Chocolate Dreams at the Gingerbread Cafe by Rebecca Raisin Page B

takings, including the festival, and it looks as though we’ve made more than we anticipated. All our hard work was worth it in the end.
    I’m just about to lock the front door when Damon pushes against it. Charlie stands behind him, gripping the edge of his shirt.
    â€œHi,” I say, confused. We’d planned to close up and meet at home so Charlie could have a nap after running around town most of the day. I’d planned on guzzling a big glass of wine.
    â€œI forgot to give you something,” he says, stepping into the café. He hands me a small silver-wrapped egg.
    â€œHey!” I say. “We didn’t have silver eggs. Where did you get this one?”
    â€œWe made it. Go on, see if you like it.”
    I take my time unwrapping the egg, which is not like me at all but I figure if Charlie, a seven-year-old, can be delicate, I can certainly try.
    Once the foil is off I see a smattering of letters embossed into the chocolate. “What does it say?” I peer closer.
    They stand silently.
    And then I see it. I feel my cheeks color, and I do the silly jump-clap dance again.
    The teeny, tiny words spell:
Will you marry me?
    â€œYes!” I scream and collapse into Damon’s arms. Charlie looks up, her smile dazzling as I pull her into the hug.
    Damon’s face shines as he says, “Open the egg.”
    I go to smash the egg in my palm as I normally do, when he grabs my hand to stop me. “Maybe just bite the top off first.”
    Why can’t I be ladylike, just once? I take a small bite and the shell crumbles. Amidst the chocolate rubble lies an antique-looking diamond ring. It’s so feminine, and delicate I immediately love it. He reaches for the ring, and slides it on my finger. I hold my breath, hoping it’s not too small; he inches it over my knuckle — a perfect fit. In fact, it looks as if it’s always been there. I can’t help grinning at my finger, which I’m sure looks downright silly.
    â€œI knew the very moment I met you, I was going to marry you,” Damon says softly.
    I bite my lip as I think of all the things that spun through my mind when I first clapped eyes on Damon, and, if I’m honest, I thought he was as delectable as one of CeeCee’s pies, but wouldn’t have thought of telling a soul. “Is this why you’ve been leaving the house before daybreak?”
    â€œSurely was. I had to enlist CeeCee’s help to make the egg, and then there was the matter of getting her approval on the right ring…”
    Charlie toddles off to help herself to a snack. With one last look at the ring, I put my hands in Damon’s back jean pockets and pull him close. “I thought it was my bed hair that had you running scared in the mornings.”
    â€œThere’s not one thing I don’t love about you, Lil. Not even the way you choke over the coffee I make you in the mornings…”
    â€œOh, you noticed that?”
    He throws his head back and laughs. “It’s like you’re forcing yourself to down a cup of poison.”
    I feel myself color and I laugh. “OK, so I can go back to instant coffee now.” Damon’s coffee machine is like his other child; I didn’t have the heart to tell him how bad it tastes to me.
    He nods. “I can’t wait to tell the world you said yes.”
    â€œI can’t wait either.”
    He leans down and kisses me, and I feel as though my life has just begun. I was only practising before. This is the real deal. We stand back gawping at each other, mirroring the same goofy look.
    CeeCee pokes her head through the door. “Is there a Mrs Guthrie here?” she asks, pretending to be someone else. And that’s when I lose it. I’m a laughing, sobbing, shrieking mess of happiness.

Chapter Twelve
    I flick the bedside light off, and tiptoe from Charlie’s room. Back in our room, Damon’s propped up in bed reading a