Love, Chocolate, and Beer (Cactus Creek #1)(78)

When our waiter told you how disappointed we’d been, you did the sweetest thing we still can’t really believe. You told us you would make the seasonal beer again just for us and that if we came back in three weeks before we headed home it’d be there waiting. I had no way of knowing if you were blowing smoke, and you had no way of knowing if we’d actually show.



Thankfully, we both had faith in the other. When we all came back three weeks later, sure enough, you had that wonderful brew waiting—a special tiny batch you’d made just for us. It was just as good as we remembered.



Sadly, unexpectedly, that was the last cherished memory we got to share with my husband’s father. You gifted us with that. You truly have a heart unlike any other, Dani Dobson. Thank you for being the special person you are.



—Becca and Lance Lowrey



*



AND ON IT WENT.

From long, emotional stories sent by regulars she’d known for over a decade to shorter, excited notes from couples who’d just met this past month during one of Ocotillos’ blind date nights, every Valentine’s Day card was filled with moving stories of love. Letter after letter, each one of them squeezed the tears right out of her heart.

By the time she got to the last card, Dani was a wreck, a curled-up mess of tears. She didn’t even remember picking up the phone or dialing the number but somehow, Luke answered and swept in minutes later to hold her as she cried her eyes out.

She’d simply had no idea all these people had been so touched by what she’d considered such small gestures. Every bit of love they’d shared with her filled her heart so much that it almost hurt.

When she told Luke as much, his eyes turned even more adoring. “Sweetie, you have this gigantic heart filled with a downright inspiring capacity for love. But you’ve spent all your time giving it instead of letting yourself receive it. So now that it’s all coming back to you, your heart’s just getting a little overfull is all. Don’t worry, it’ll make room. It’s your heart, after all. It knows it has to keep up, simply for what you do for others...and who you are.”

Irrationally, that of course made her cry even more, and through her tears, she realized that her heart did feel different. She felt different.

Like a five-year-old pointing an accusatory thumb, her mind declared, “Luke started it.”

He really had.



*



“HEY, SWEETHEART. How was work?” asked Luke, packing his laptop and the depressing projected post-lease-increase financial predictions away to make room for Dani on the bed.

Dani threw her keys on her dresser and flung herself onto the covers beside him. “It was fine. Derek stopped by for maybe ten seconds for a take-out order. He said hi and left. I honestly don’t know what’s going on with him lately. He won’t even talk to me about it. Jonathan says it’s just about his job but I can’t help feeling like it’s about me.”

“Give it time.” He pulled her into his arms, comforting her as best he could. “I’m sure it’s not you. Your brother just hit a rough patch. Quitting a job he was at for five years to look for a new career path can’t be easy on the guy, even if it was his choice.”

“That’s just it. He’s not looking; he knows what path he should be on already.” With that cryptic remark, her voice shrank away, getting smaller the more obscure her words became. Soon, she seemed to be talking more to herself than him. “I just wish I could help him,” she whispered, eyes closed. “I should’ve. Not that I would’ve...” She trailed off her scattered ramblings and then shook her head, tucking her chin on his chest and ruefully refocusing her eyes on his again. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense. My brain’s scrambled tonight.”

A wobbly half-dim smile edged her lips. “Why don’t we talk about your day instead? Rylan was telling me Quinn has a new Red and White Day promotion. How’s that going?”

The last thing Luke wanted to do was change the subject. Lately, Dani looked like she was dealing with the weight of a boulder on her shoulders and he couldn’t figure out why that was. Whenever he’d bring it up, she’d almost look ready to talk about it...before sadly smiling away the subject. Tonight, however, her exhausted features were begging him more strongly than usual to put a pin in their discussion and wade them over to shallower waters.

He sighed and tried not to take it personally. “The promos are going as good as can be expected, I suppose. We don’t have the same traction as we did with Valentine’s Day but we’re doing well for March.” Still troubled by the sadness in her eyes, he began absently kneading his fingers down her back.

She groaned softly. “You know, I’m getting addicted to these massages you keep giving me. If you’re not careful, I’m going to turn all diva and start expecting them every night.”

He brightened a little then, chuckling at the impossible notion. “I’m not worried. I think last Sunday alone is proof positive that you going diva on me will never happen.”

“Last week?” she peered at him quizzically. “Oh, hehe, the wedding.”

“Let’s recap, shall we? The day of my friend’s wedding, you ran to the grocery store in your PJs to get a last-minute wedding card. When you got back, you took a one-minute shower and then yanked on an un-ironed dress, along with a lovely pair of rubber beach slippers—the only non-sneaker footwear I think you own. You air-dried your hair with the window down in the car on the way to the reception. Once there, you promptly helped the bartender—who you of course knew—run the bar when he got backed up, and snort-laughed when the waiter brought you wine instead of beer to drink for the bride and groom toast. After a fierce game of tag with every child at the wedding, you then sucker-bet me and dragged me out to dance horrifying NFL end zone classics like the Sprinkler, the Dougie, and the Dice Roll as your prize. Next came my personal highlight of the evening when you tossed whiskey back with my buddies while owning them in NBA smack talk. Finally, on the way home from the hotel, you begged me to get us a deep-dish pizza as a post-wedding snack, but you didn’t even let us eat it till it was cold because you attacked me in the living room and had your wicked way with me on the carpet. Twice.”