Excerpt
Ransom pulled her into his arms, kissing her lips. His tongue sent shivers of desire racing through her. Coco matched him kiss for kiss.
Weakened by his yearning for her, Ransom pulled away, saying, “Sweetheart, we really have to stop.”
“I know…but I don’t want to,” she moaned. The kiss had left her weak and a bit confused.
Ransom kissed the top of her head. “Coco, you have my flesh screaming for you right now.”
It was going to take all of his willpower to walk out of that house tonight. Ransom was going to have to leave soon, before he gave in to the passion that had been building since he laid eyes on this luscious beauty.
JACQUELIN THOMAS
is a bestselling author of more than thirty books and is an avid reader of romance novels when she’s not writing. She and her family live in North Carolina, where she is busy working on her next book.
Books by Jacquelin Thomas
Kimani Romance
The Pastor’s Woman
Teach Me Tonight
Chocolate Goodies
Chocolate Goodies
Essence Bestselling Author
Jacquelin Thomas
Dear Reader,
February is the month of love!
I love Valentine’s Day and everything that it represents when it comes to romance. One of my favorite gifts is chocolate—I love it. Flowers are also nice, but there’s just something so special about chocolate. Chocolate has a power to captivate unlike any other food. Two of my favorite desserts are Molten Chocolate-Caramel Cake and Chocolate Crème Brûlée.
Grab your favorite chocolate dessert, a comfortable seat and settle down to meet Ransom Winters and Coco Stanley. I enjoyed writing about them and sharing their journey to happily-ever-after with you.
Thanks for the never ending show of support and Happy Valentine’s Day.
Jacquelin
Chapter 1
“Michael, all that hip-hop music doesn’t bother you?” twenty-nine year old Constance Stanley asked her brother as they finished packing up a box of chocolates shaped like the Easter Bunny. She was going to drop it off to a preschool down the street from her house later that evening.
The school was having its annual Easter celebration on Friday. Stanley Chocolates donated a box to them every year.
“And if that wasn’t bad enough, all I ever see coming out of D-Unit is a bunch of thugs,” she complained. “Why didn’t the owner just open a music store on Crenshaw or in Compton—anywhere but here in Brentwood?”
“Coco, you worry too much,” Michael responded. “There’s been no trouble since the store opened, and none of the other tenants are complaining. Have you even gone over there to meet the owner?” Her brother managed their family-owned chocolate factory, Stanley Chocolates, which was next door to her shop.
“No. I’m not sure I want to meet him, either,” she huffed. He’s probably a thug as well, she thought, but didn’t say it.
“I think you’d feel better if you do,” Michael said as he followed her out to her car. “Instead of making all these snap judgments. C’mon, I’ll walk over there with you.”
Coco unlocked her door and then shielded her eyes from the bright morning sun. It was a beautiful day in April. Much too pretty to be working inside, but life didn’t stop for perfect spring days.
“I don’t know…maybe later this afternoon,” she told him. “That way I can tell him to turn down his music. We definitely don’t need him or her scaring away our customers.”
Michael laughed. “The music is not that loud, Coco. You can’t even understand the lyrics. As for ruining business, I don’t think you have to worry about that. You know the saying, ‘chocolate is a girl’s best friend.’”
“Speaking of chocolate,” Coco began, “I have this idea for a new product for my shop. What do you think of combining cardamom, citrus and organic walnuts with Venezuelan dark chocolate?”
“Sounds delicious,” he murmured. “Is this something you want me to experiment with?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to play around with it myself,” Coco said with a quick shake of her head. “You have enough to do with that big order that just came in for the Randolph Hotel.”
Jacquelin Thomas It’s not like I have much of a social life these days.
Coco checked her watch. “I need to get out of here. It’s almost time for me to open.”
Michael gave her a hug. “See you later, sis.”
She left the plant and walked next door.
Shortly after Coco opened the doors, her first customer strolled inside.
“Good morning, Stella,” she said with a smile.
“Hey, girl,” she responded. “Coco, I need half a pound of almond butter crunch.”
She quickly packaged the order and handed it to her customer. “It’s going to be twenty dollars even.”
“Thank you,” Stella said. “I just broke up with my boyfriend so I’m curling up tonight when I get home, with a good book and this bag of chocolates. They always make me feel better.”
Coco nodded in understanding. There had been many nights when she’d bonded with a bag of chocolate-covered peanuts and a book or a feel-good movie.
Like her brother said, chocolate was a girl’s best friend. It was this guilty pleasure that kept her family in business. She had skillfully turned Coco’s Chocolate Bar into a very successful venture.
Constance, who preferred to be called by her nickname, Coco, descended from a long line of chocolatiers dating all the way back to the early nineteen hundreds. Her great-great-grandparents had made chocolate and sold it to the local markets. When Coco graduated from college, she’d opted to open a gourmet chocolate shop featuring exotic spices and flavors and make all the chocolate, too, instead of following the family tradition of only making chocolates and distributing them to other stores. Coco had always wanted to open her own specialty shop; it had been a lifelong dream as long as she could remember.
Coco’s Chocolate Bar carried exotic chocolates like ones made of sea salt and roasted almonds, pralines and peanuts from Marcona, Spain. Dark chocolates rich with the zip of New Orleans–style chicory coffee and cocoa nibs.
Based in the Brentwood area of Los Angeles, Coco’s featured a warm and cozy sitting area, adorned with a beautiful marble bar with mint-green leather chairs for customers to gather and enjoy a taste of her unique chocolates, all of which were produced in the huge plant next door. She also carried her family’s line of chocolates.
A young woman strolled into the shop, propelling Coco out of her musings. “Hey you,” she said. “Elle, what are you doing here?”
The woman smiled. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d come by and pick up some white-chocolate-covered pralines for Mama. You know how much she loves them.”
Coco scooped up the treats into a shiny silver bag. “How is Aunt Amanda doing,