Valentin rounded the corner, and the scent of chocolate increased tenfold until he stood before a quaint café. Fragrant coffee joined the aromas, and his eyes traced the sign hanging above the door.Amorette’s Café. It was a beautiful name for a shop filled with handmade delicacies, for a brunette so perfect it was as if the gods had fashioned her.
Valentin froze, his skin burning cold as he registered her. A group of customers had hidden her when he first approached, but as they stepped away, she came into full view, and Valentin’s world stopped spinning. She was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen, like a painting pulled from the canvasand given breath. Her long, wavy brown hair was the color of dark chocolate, her eyes matching the enticing shade. Her ponytail swung as she moved behind the counter, and his fingers twitched at his side with the urge to wrap the hanging locks around his hand and pull them back like the string of his bow. She was much shorter than him, and the angle would force her to look up through those thick eyelashes. He could picture her now, ponytail choking his fist, neck exposed, that chocolate smudge on her cheek begging to be licked off…
Valentin jerked as if he’d been slapped. What was wrong with him? She was human, a stranger, a fruit forbidden for his kind. Images like that never slipped unwanted into his imagination, and that he kept fixating on the chocolate staining her soft skin unnerved him. He needed to leave. To get far away from this shop before he broke his sacred vows.
SIX MONTHS AGO.
Two months. He stayed away for two months, but as if a needle had stitched a threat between him and that damned brunette, Valentin found himself back atAmorette’s. He lingered outside, a battle waging in his chest as he watched her steam milk for the cappuccino she was preparing. Her hair was down this time, but the urge to wrap it around his fist was no less overwhelming. He shouldn’t go inside. He should leave this gorgeous creature alone, but that small and wicked part of his soul argued that a latte wasn’t a sin. There were no rules about caffeine fixes and harmless‘have a nice day’comments. As long as he didn’t get emotionally involved with her or her love life, there was no harm in ordering a drink. He worked long hours, too long, and heoften wondered how Paris lasted centuries on the job. Valentin was so tired he could sleep for a year, and he’d been Cupid for only six months. He needed a coffee… or fifteen.
Rationalization fully in place, Valentin removed his cloaking magic and walked into the shop. The intoxicating fragrance was even stronger inside, and he wondered if it was truly the chocolate wrapping him in obsession or if it was her presence drawing him ever closer.
“Hi, welcome to Amorette’s. What can I get…” the brunette trailed off when she saw him, freezing behind the register. Valentin knew how he looked. At six foot five inches with muscles forged on the battlefield and blond hair the color of ice, he was an otherworldly sight to behold. It was why he rarely allowed humans to witness his true form. Most had this exact reaction, even though they only saw the outfit his glamour presented and not the severe uniform clinging to his body.
“I… um… sorry, what can I get you?” she recovered quickly, and her attempt at professionalism made him smile. It was a mistake coming inside. At least outside, a pane of glass had protected him from her beauty, but standing before her was like being stabbed repeatedly in the chest. How could a human woman be this lovely?
“Black coffee,” Valentin answered, noticing how her skin pebbled with goosebumps at his deep, melodic tone.
“Black coffee?” she asked in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“One black coffee, then,” she said good-naturedly as she grabbed a cup and placed it under the carafe. When it was full, she twisted back and set it on the counter. “Will that be all?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t say more. He shouldn’t be saying anything, not when an aching longing begged him to take her hand as he accepted his drink, to feel her skin press against his.
She tapped the register with a soft laugh, and Valentin handed her a ten-dollar bill, fully aware of how ridiculous it was to order a black coffee in a chocolate shop. The beautiful brunette counted the change and attempted to give it to him, but he snatched up the cup and stepped back from the counter.
“Keep the change.” He didn’t smile as he turned and fled the café. He shouldn’t have come inside. Everything about her, from her eyes to her fingers to her voice to her curves, called to him. If she wasn’t so obviously human, he would have been convinced that magic had drawn him to her.
THREE MONTHS AGO
“One black coffee.” The brunette smiled, holding out the steaming cup before he even reached the register.
Valentin had fled the café three months ago, telling himself to stay away, but two weeks later, he had returned. The random caffeine stops had turned into weekly visits, but he argued seeing her once in a while held no harm. With each passing week, the need to see her became increasingly unbearable. He never spoke more than necessary, resolved to only order coffee and study her face while she poured the liquid. They didn’t exchange names, although he guessed it was Amorette since she owned the café. All they traded were coffee and cash, and smiles on her part. He rarely let a grin grace his lips, and he tried to prevent his voice from saying more than please and thank you. Some days tested his resolve more than others, though. Her spirit was infectious, and it amused her that he declined her offerings of handmade chocolates. She tried every visit to tempt him with her newest creations, and when her attempts failed, she sought to wranglefull sentences out of him. She experienced greater success on that front, and despite his best intentions, he found himself answering her more and more. Her triumph made her smile, which only encouraged his voice. He always kept his thoughts innocent, even though her dark hair begged to twist around his wrist as he pulled, but he locked that fantasy away in a cage to grow feral and ravenous.
“You sure I can’t tempt you with anything else?” She waggled her eyebrows as she accepted the ten-dollar bill. She tried to give him change every week, but he refused, letting her keep the large tip. He liked how her face lit up when she tucked the extra bills into her apron. Owning a business was stressful, even one that seemed successful, and if he couldn’t speak with her the way he craved, he would leave her with something that brought a smile to those full lips.
“No thanks.” Valentin gripped the coffee and backed up, holding her gaze as long as he could.
“Maybe next time,” she teased as another customer stepped up to order. “One of these days, I’ll convince you to buy chocolate in my chocolate shop.”
THREE WEEKS AGO
“Here you go.” She handed him his weekly coffee, but unlike their other encounters, her smile failed to reach her eyes, and Valentin’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. Every time he walked inside this café, she was all smiles and teases. He said little, but she didn’t mind filling the silence with her attempts to seduce him with chocolate. If only she knew she was trying to convince Cupid to eat sweets. Her teasing would becomeinsufferable. Valentin almost wanted to break the rules and tell her just to hear her rant about the guardian of love only drinking black coffee. But today she was a different woman. The spark was gone, and as a Cupid, he sensed the rancid stench of souring love swirling around her.
“Keep the change,” Valentin said, careful not to touch her skin as he handed her the bill. He had never noticed an aura of love surrounding her before, and he had assumed it meant she was unattached. He could never love her, never have more than these stolen moments, but his selfishness hoped no other man had claimed her. Sensing the turmoil tugging at her spirit made him realize that there was something worse than another holding this glorious creature’s heart, and it was someone damaging it.
“You don’t have to keep tipping me,” she said, her voice tired. “It’s just black coffee.”
Valentin leaned into his power, pushing aside his own longing. This was his calling, and if her love was suffering, it was his job to protect and heal it. He remained silent as his spirit wove through her emotions, searching for her fraying threads, but after a few seconds, it retreated into his body. He frowned in confusion. She was clearly upset, the residual sorrow tied somehow to her love, but nothing spoke to him. There was nothing within her for him to seize hold of and defend.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said quickly, and he realized she assumed his frown was for her refusal of the tip and not the confusing emotions pulsing through her spirit. “I just meant…” she trailed off as if she didn’t have the strength to argue.
“You didn’t.” Valentin rearranged his features into a neutral expression, even though he wanted to wrap her in his arms. For the first time in his brief career as Cupid, he was helpless to heal someone’s love. He had grown too attached to her, hersmiles clouding his judgment. This was what Paris had warned about. Never get involved with a human. It ruined their chances at happiness, and with a sickening in his gut, he realized he had broken the one absolute rule. He cared for her. He adored her laughter and her teasing. He dreamed of her lips, her hair, her curves. His growing affection was ruining her relationships, and she stood before him in desperate need of Cupid’s aid. Yet he was powerless to defend her romance.
Valentin stared at her, memorizing her face as she shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. He wouldn’t be back. He wouldn’t let his selfishness harm her future.
“Okay, good,” she said softly, tucking the change into her apron. “I’ll see you next week?” He didn’t answer, and her look of concern surprised him. “Right?” she asked, and her tone shattered his heart. It never occurred to him that she enjoyed their interactions as much as he did, but the disappointment on her face proved he needed to leave this beautiful human alone. Her emotions were evolving as well. Her attachment to him had grown like a flowering weed, determined and unexpected, yet undeniably lovely.
