Petit Morts 14 - Just Desserts by Josh Lanyon

Author:Josh Lanyon [Lanyon, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The shop was new. Or maybe it wasn't. It had been months

since Ridge had been in the small town of Horton. Come to

think of it, the shop didn't actually look new. It looked like it

had always sat there, perfectly positioned between the green

awning of an art gallery and the gingerbread-trimmed porch of

a stationery store.

Sweets to the Sweet read the elegant gold and black script

across the polished window front.

Tug opened the door, the bell jingled cheerily, and Ridge

executed a neat, quick bounce over the threshold, wheeling

himself inside.

The rich, Cimmerian smell was almost overpowering.

Chocolate, yes, but other scents. Subtle scents. Espresso,

marzipan, honey, rum, green apples, toadstools.

Toadstools? Where did that thought come from?

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Tug looked around smiling.

It was certainly nicely laid out. Ridge looked around,

bemused. The floor was a pattern of black and red squares,

like a game board in hell.

"Well, well, well." The voice was soft and accent-less.

Ridge had thought they were alone but now he spotted the

man behind the counter. In fact, he wondered how he'd first

missed him.

This could only be the like-a-character-in-a-play Chance. He

was tall and slender with a pale face framed by long, dark hair.

His eyes were what Ridge noticed most. They were heavy-

lidded and of an indeterminate color. They glittered in the

32

flickering sunshine as he studied Ridge with unconcealed

curiosity.

"Back again," Tug said. "I left the box I bought this morning

out in the sun."

"How careless." Chance continued to eye Ridge. "That could

be an expensive mistake."

Generally, the wheelchair acted like a cloak of invisibility.

This unstinting appraisal was making Ridge uneasy.

"But this is better. You can pick exactly what you like." Tug

moved to the glass cases and their temptingly arranged trays of

confections.

"Yes, this is better," Chance agreed.

"Do I know you?" Ridge asked.

"You don't remember? I'm wounded." Chance put a hand to

his heart in a theatrical gesture. His eyes laughed wickedly at

Ridge.

Ridge wheeled forward, but all at once he lost his nerve and

guided the chair next to Tug. He looked into the case of

beautiful candies as though that had been his intention the

whole time.

"What do you like?" Tug asked. His hand rested absently on

the back of the wheelchair as though unconsciously picking up

Ridge's unease.

"I don't. I don't like chocolate."

Tug looked puzzled, and no wonder. "Oh, I thought...."

"I wanted--want--the chocolate for a gift."

"Oh."

"For that certain special someone," Chance supplied.

Ridge turned to him. Was he imagining that Chance seemed

to know something...something he couldn't possibly know?

Chance met his gaze. His elegant eyebrows shot up in

inquiry.

No. Chance was simply one of those smartasses who always

had to put his two cents in.

"How can you not like chocolate?" Tug sounded interested,

33

not critical.

"It does seem rather sinister, doesn't it?" Chance remarked.

Tug chuckled.

It came suddenly to Ridge that Tug was a very relaxing

person to be around, that life with someone like Tug would

be....

Impossible now.

"Just pick something," Ridge said. "I don't care."

"Have you ever tried white chocolate?"

"I don't like sweets."

Tug did a double take. " No sweets? None? Nothing?"

"No." Ridge wasn't even sure if that was true, but nothing

came to him, and he wanted out of the shop and the candy case

that was beginning to smell like damp, dark earth.

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