AN: This story was my entry for the HEA Contest, but it unfortunately had to be withdrawn. It was originally written for Chocaholic123 for her birthday (now you can probably see where I got my inspiration from!) and she encouraged me to enter it. She is my favorite type of chocolate, and I love her to bits.

A huge thanks to my team for all their help pulling this together, Choc, J, grnidgirl and jcat5507, and to all of those who have sent me kind messages.

Hugs and Cherry Ripes to MagTwi78 for her support.

I hope you enjoy it xx

Summary: He is gone, leaving her with the bitter sense of absence and the sweet taste of his name on her tongue. Then, a mysterious letter arrives, bursting with the flavors of a love story. Will the words that grace the page change the course of her life?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

~~ Orange Kisses and Peppermint Hearts ~~

Unclipping the soft rollers, I unwound them one at a time until curls fell around my shoulders. Brushing through my thick hair to separate them, I grabbed bobby pins and a hair band, securing it in a high ponytail, teasing the top to create some volume.

A flash of mascara, a slick of rouge across my lips, and I was ready to go, rushing out of the house into the bright summer morning. As I walked the short distance along the cobbled road to my shop, I ran over all the pending orders and made a mental shopping list of ingredients I need to stock up on—vanilla essence, peppermint flavoring, rosewater, and crystallized ginger.

We'd had a spoiled batch of Venezuelan Dark earlier in the week. Thankfully, my assistant Rose was on the case. She was like a dog with a bone, and it had been a relief to have her deal with the difficult supplier.

Though it was late August and the days sizzled and the nights sweltered, the early morning still held a chill, so I'd slung a thin peach cardigan over my shoulders. I loved the way my cotton sundress swished around my legs as I walked, the polka-dot skirt swaying with the breeze.

I looked up the road and could see Rose already opening the shop. She was rolling the shutters up and unwinding the lavender-and-cream striped parasol that shaded customers wanting to enjoy their coffees and treats in the fresh air. The swirling, silver and pale blue lettering of Cocoa Swan glinted across the shop window under the rising sun.

"Morning, Bella." She waved as she saw me approaching. Her golden-blonde curls were pinned up; a large quiff curled away from her face, secured with a pale blue bandana that matched the sleeveless, dogtooth shirt she wore. It was neatly tucked into a short, black tube skirt that accentuated her shapely curves. Rose was Betty Grable incarnate.

"Morning." I pulled her into a hug, smelling her familiar scent—vanilla perfume and the fruity bubble gum she loved. "Thanks for getting started. I'll go and get the fresh stock out." I was surprised to see she'd already laid out row after row of confections in the glass display cabinets that lined one side of the shop. The air already held a mouthwatering mix of sweet aromas.

Scattered around the shop, were mismatched wrought iron tables and chairs in a kaleidoscope of colors. I vividly remembered being dragged around dusty salvage yards with my mom, searching out the neglected, rusty garden furniture. She'd brought them back to life with a stiff wire brush and a lick of paint. The shop was full to busting with memories of her, and it comforted me to spend my days surrounded by them.

"Rose, I'm going in the back. Are you okay finishing up in here?" I called out to her, unhooking my pale blue flowered apron from the wall and looping it over my neck, tying it around my waist.

"Yep, sure thing," she answered as I went into the workshop, flicking the switch on the old radio that lived on the counter. The oldies rock 'n' roll station spilled music into the quiet room while I turned all the equipment on.

The list of orders was hanging on the notice board, and I scanned my eyes over it, deciding to make a start on a batch of simple heart-shaped marbled milk and white chocolate wedding favors. I was prepping the area, singing along as I waited for the chocolate to heat and melt to the perfect consistency, when Rose pushed the door open and left a cream envelope on the stainless steel counter. My name was written on the front in black ink.

"This just came in for you." She smiled and then left, the door swinging behind her. I could hear her crooning along to the song on the radio; her breathy voice was wonderful to listen to.

I brushed my hands off on my apron before quickly sliding my fingers under the edge of the envelope and ripping it open. My hopes were dashed when I saw it was just an order, handwritten in neat looping cursive.

.

Dear Cocoa Swan,

I hope you can help me organize the perfect anniversary gift for my wife.

I'd like a selection of chocolates that reflect all the things that made me fall madly and deeply in love with her. I have to admit that I'm no chocolate connoisseur, but she is, and she always tells me that your shop does the best.

I apologize for the lateness in my request, and I have a feeling that I may think of some other ideas to add to the final box of chocolates once I've sent this. I hope this won't be too inconvenient for you.

I thought it would help you choosing the chocolates if I told you a little bit about her.

The best place to start would be the moment I knew that she was the one for me.

We were sat in a coffee shop, her hands wrapped around a cup of frothy cappuccino, while she told me about her day. Excitement glittered in her eyes, and I couldn't stop myself from reaching out and brushing the leftover foam from her lips with my thumb and tasting the sweet richness of the coffee.

She was mouth-watering.

.

Astounded, I turned the thin paper over in my hand, looking for more. The other side was blank, and the envelope was empty.

I poked my head out and gestured for Rose to come into the workshop after she'd finished serving a customer. I re-read the letter again. The disappointment I'd felt that it wasn't for me was replaced by admiration for this man and a deep longing for the love that was absent in my own life.

When Rose came, I showed her the letter. As she read it, her face softened, and when she got to the bottom, she reacted exactly the same way I did, searching for the ending. "There's no more?"

I shook my head, "Nothing. Perhaps there was another page, and he's misplaced it?"

She clutched the letter to her chest, swooning. "How romantic."

"It's beautiful, but there's no name or address. What should we do?" He hadn't even requested what he wanted, but I'd already visualized cappuccino swirls before I'd finished reading.

"I think you should make something. Just in case he arrives to collect them. We can always pick from the counter to make up a box if it turns out there was another page?"

"Okay, I'll make a batch and keep some to the side." I didn't know what I'd do without Rose. I was the inventor with a whimsical and creative streak, but I was completely unorganized; she kept me on the straight and narrow.

For the rest of the morning, I tempered the milk and white chocolate across the cool marble slab. The process of spreading and smoothing the chocolate over and over until it shined was relaxing, and I often lost myself in the routine. It was the perfect way to erase my worries—for a time, at least.

The shop was busy throughout the day, and I split my time between the workshop and the counter, serving steaming tea and coffee to those wanting a caffeine hit, or quenching the thirst of others with iced teas and milkshakes—and the never-ending queue for chocolate. My mom's reputation had been well known in the town, and between the shop and orders for all manner of events, there was never a dull moment.

I worked late to finish the batch of chocolates for the displays and for the letter. I set aside six cappuccino swirls. The ridged chocolates, topped with a candied coffee bean, were nestled amongst the sky blue tissue paper that lined the striped lavender-and-cream boxes, with the shop name glistening in silver across the top.

Before I drifted off to sleep that night, I thought about the letter again and the strange request. The love this man had for his wife was infused in the ink that he'd curled across the paper. I felt the usual stab of loneliness as I lay in my king-sized bed, but this time, the knife seemed to dig deeper, sharper. Being able to sleep diagonally and steal all the covers had its benefits, but I missed falling asleep and waking up wrapped in a warm pair of arms. The empty, cold space beside me was a stark reminder of what I was missing.

My dreams were full of green eyes, salty skin, and rolling waves. The orange sun standing sentry over us, watching as the flirtation that had built over the summer developed into something that burned as brightly as its own rays.

Edward's eyes had lingered over my candy-striped bathing suit as I peeled my cotton dress over my head. The crooked smile that tugged at the edge of his mouth made my heart soar as he held out his hand. "Come on. Let's go in together."

Wrapping my hand in his, I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. The sand squelched through my toes as we stepped into the shallows, wading in until the icy water surged against my stomach, stealing my breath.

He pulled me to his side, gazing down at me. "You need to get your shoulders wet. After three? Ready?"

"No. No, not yet!" I squealed, scrambling onto him. His taut body was like a furnace in comparison to the swirling water.

Edward gathered me in his arms, lifting me up until our chests were pressed together, the roar of the waves in our ears. "Hold onto me."

I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his lean waist, securing my arms around his neck. The wind had whipped his unruly hair out of its carefully crafted styled.

"So beautiful." He breathed love into his words, the warmth of it ticking my face.

"On a count of three we're going under. I've got you, Bella. I've always got you." I curled one hand around the back of his suntanned neck, holding my nose with my other.

On my nod, he pulled us both under the blue-green sea. His grip never loosened, and I didn't even feel the cold. Bursting back up out of the surf, his laughter vibrated through my body, and I brushed the water droplets away from his eyes, a few lingering like dew drops on the end of his thick lashes.

"See? That wasn't so bad."

I clung on to him, enjoying the protective circle of his arms. "I don't want to let go."

"Then don't." He pressed his lips gently against mine, and desire surged through my veins like molten lava. The rushing of the waves and the squawks of the seagulls overhead disappeared, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heart and the beat that my own drummed out in response.

~OK&PH~

The next morning I left my curls loose, folding my bangs back in on themselves and clipping them in a roll. My black halter neck dress was topped off with a thin red belt cinched around my waist, and in an attempt to add a splash of color, I tucked a red poppy into the side of my hair. I sighed, sitting down at my dressing table to try and create the same uplifting effect on my face. The glow from the blissful dream had drained from my cheeks with a swift slap of reality.

Photographs haphazardly lined the edge of the vanity mirror. Some were bright and colorful, others old and faded—yet they were all bursting with memories. Every single one was a prompt that took my mind back to days filled with laughter, happiness, and most of all, love. I ran my finger over the curling corner of a picture of myself, blissfully happy, with the wind blowing my hair as I squinted into the sun.

I allowed myself to remember, savoring every detail, before I focused on the present and carried on with my day—days that blurred together in a vain attempt to avoid the hollowed pain and absence of those who lit up my smiles.

We spotted the cream envelope, tucked under the door when we arrived, and Rose could hardly contain her excitement as I unfolded the paper, clutching onto my arm as she read it over my shoulder.

.

Dear Cocoa Swan,

I've been thinking about the next chocolate.

The first time I ever got to kiss my girl, it was a sweltering day. The heat bounced off the tarmac, shimmering distances into smudged watercolor images. She held my hand and walked by my side through the park, heading for the fountain, waiting for the moment the breeze blows the fine mist over you, cooling your hot skin. When I pressed my lips to hers, there was the faintest trace of citrus on them. Perhaps from some flavored lip balm, or a juicy Californian orange she'd eaten for breakfast. I don't know, but I'll never forget how she tasted. Divine.

I hope to have a date and address for delivery soon.

.

Rose gasped as she finished reading. "There's no name again, and the envelope has nothing on it." She turned it over and over, holding it up against the large picture window as if it would reveal its origin in the sunlight.

"It's very strange." I furrowed my brow. "Do you think it's a joke?"

"No, I don't think it's a joke at all. I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever read." She said, her blue eyes wistful. "I hope I meet a man who loves me as much as this," she said as she waved the envelope in front of me.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. "You will, Rose. I promise. The right one will come along. Probably when you're not even looking." A whirlwind romance with a man ten years her elder had destroyed her confidence when his wife, carrying a bouncing, chubby cheeked daughter, had arrived on her doorstop, instantly shattering her trust in men.

"I know." She sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be complaining."

"Don't be silly. I'm surrounded by love." And I was. However far away he was, I never doubted Edward's feelings for me.

Love may be a powerful emotion, but it can be easily crushed, like an ear of corn in a hailstorm. I hadn't heard from Edward for so long. It was hard to remember the feeling of being in love without it being streaked through with other emotions—fear being the strongest and loudest of them all.

"You are always so positive, Bella. You astound me." She squeezed my hand, passing me my apron and pulling on hers. I was training her in the basics so she could help out while I was out on deliveries, and so I could have few days off.

"It's the only thing I can be." I smiled, but I knew it didn't reach my eyes, worry fluttering in my chest. It never left me, and its wings would beat thunderously if I'd allow it, but I captured it and held it as still as I could, just so I could breathe.

I spent the afternoon showing Rose how to make dark orange crisps for our mystery letter writer. I explained how to add just the right amount of flavoring to the fresh batch of honeycomb that we'd made. Heating the sugar and bicarbonate of soda, creating the billowing texture that pooled out onto the metal sheet before it set hard, allowing us to crumble it. And, how to ensure that all the bubbles were removed from the hexagonal molds before we put them in the fridge

Having a helping hand allowed me to finish up at the same time the shop closed, so we walked down to our local park, buying snow cones from the stall to cool down under the early evening heat. Getting our inspiration from the letter, we headed for the fountain. It was a circular, shallow pool with an ornate centerpiece. Water tumbled over the moss ridden stone; the usual minor ripples it created were magnified by the barelegged children splashing through it, their shrieks filling the air.

"I wonder if this is his fountain." Rose mused.

"It could be. This is the biggest one around." I'd spent many a hot day in this park. The dry summer heat sapped the water from everything else, so it was an oasis. I smiled at the memories that came to mind as we sat on the grass, just out of the reach of the cool mists, the evening already starting to cool down.

My eyes were drawn to the large willow tree, its branches trailing down to the sun-warmed grass, and a memory flickered and flared to life.

Edward had parted them like a curtain, allowing me to walk under his arm into the dappled haven underneath. We lay on the grass, staring up at the slashes of cornflower blue sky visible in the ceiling of branches that curved overhead.

"I could stay here forever," I mused, turning my head to see him sit up, leaning his head on his elbow. We'd spent too long outside, painting the tall white fence that surrounded my mom's garden, and he had pink sunburn along the straight of his nose. Speckles of the paint still dotted his skin. We'd showered together trying to remove every trace, but we'd become distracted. I smiled, and Edward leant down, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Just thinking about last night." I lifted my hand to his forehead, lightly scratching a stubborn paint spot with my nail until it flaked off.

Edward picked a buttercup from the grass and traced it over my arm. "Which bit?"

"All of it." I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks; Edward's ministrations had reached my shoulder, and I shivered from the sensation—a fine line between ticklish and aroused.

"I think you should give me details," he teased, dancing the soft petals across my cleavage.

"Edward," I warned, but my traitorous nipples strained against the yellow cotton of my dress. A wordless moan fell from his mouth when he saw.

He brushed the buttercup up my throat, my eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. "If you hold a buttercup to your chin and it glows yellow, it means you love butter," he said. I could feel him holding it there, although it didn't touch my skin, the sensation tingled.

"You love butter," he decided.

"Everyone loves butter." I cracked open one eye, seeing his tongue dart out to moisten his lips. Reflexively, I did the same.

"I don't," he added, twirling the flower in a circle over my lips until I laughed and batted his hand away.

"Yes, you do."

"Okay, I lied. I do, but I love you more." He leant down and kissed my moist lips, sensually running his tongue across their edge. I tasted cinnamon and smelled the hint of mint from his shaving foam, still on his skin, though the coarse stubble was already showing along his jaw.

Savoring his taste and the feel of him beneath my fingers wasn't enough, and before long, we were rushing home where we retreated in our bubble, exploring each other until the sun tinted the sky pink the next morning.

That was the day our bubble had burst. The day Edward's orders came in—he was shipping out. The verdant green that dominated my thoughts was replaced by a dulled, muddy khaki that dominated my nightmares.

Rose lay back, kicking off her ballet pumps. "I wonder if there'll be a letter tomorrow."

"Maybe," I answered, watching the darkening sky, lost in my thoughts.

We lay there for a few hours, chatting about everything and nothing, until the mosquitoes started to circle, looking for bare skin to feast on.

~OK&PH~

Another bright morning brought another mysterious letter. I didn't have a chance to read it, a last minute order for a garden party came in, and I was elbow deep in rum truffles and pralines until well after lunch.

A bell jangled as I was ringing up the order, and I looked up to see my dad enter the shop. He was still dressed in his mechanic's overalls, his name emblazoned on his chest, and his hands black and grimy.

"Don't touch a thing," I warned him.

He held his palms up to me. "I promise. I will look only."

I arched my eyebrow at him. "Only looking? This is an interesting development. What about if I offered you a hazelnut disc—just to look at?"

"Well, I'd have to test it out, of course. Don't want the standards slipping," he joked, pulling a less than clean handkerchief out of his pockets and wiping his hands.

"I thought so." I held one of the fragile discs out to him. It was almost as large as my palm, but he stuffed it in his mouth, and it was gone in an instant. They were his favorites.

He nodded his head as he chewed, making me laugh. "Delicious. But, I might need another just to be sure."

I rolled my eyes at him and handed another over. "Was this a purely hazelnut chocolate visit, or was there something else you needed?"

He looked a little sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, I was thinking of taking something home for Sue."

Since my mom had passed, breaking my dad's heart, he'd been so lonely, even when surrounded by friends and family. Sue had helped to look after him when I was at work, by cooking and cleaning, lending an ear or her shoulder. It had taken him a long time, but he'd finally opened his eyes to see Sue as more. Nobody could replace my mom in his or my eyes, but she never tried to, and that was why she was perfect.

I grabbed a small, striped paper bag and filled it with peppermint cream hearts, tying it with some silver string. "Here you are. Don't tell her I chose for you. Say that you remember they were her favorites, okay?"

"Thanks, Bella." He beamed and leant over the counter, offering his cheek.

I kissed my lips to his freshly shaven skin. "Love you, Dad."

He had almost made it to the door when he turned round, his eyes conveying his concern. "You okay?"

I bit my lip. "Yep. I'm fine. Busy as a bee."

He nodded. "Love you, Bumble."

It wasn't only me that was missing pieces of the jigsaw that depicted our lives. I couldn't even make sense of the image anymore—it was blurred and distorted.

My weak attempts to control my emotions failed. They flooded the hollow space carved into my chest like a tidal wave. It was a long time after the bell jangled that I got back to work, turning out all the chocolates from their molds from the fridge and packing them into gift boxes.

Rose barreled into the room, flapping the letter. "I can't believe we've forgotten this!"

"Go on. Open it. My hands are covered in chocolate." I held them up to show her. "Can you read it out?"

She opened the envelope with a careful touch, trying not to rip it any more than necessary. Her eyes flashed over the words, and she placed her fingers on her lips, looking at me in wonder.

"It says,

.

Dear Cocoa Swan,

Thank you so much for bearing with me. I think of a new thing every day and know it has to be in the box of chocolates.

The first time I ever watched her sleep…" Rose's eyes flicked to mine, glistening with unshed tears.

"The first time I ever watched her sleep, her heart was breaking. I didn't know what to do. I don't think there was much I could have done other than turn back time, and stop the bad decisions that people make.

It wasn't evening. Light streamed through the blinds, casting shadows over the room, but a sliver fell across her face. Her beautiful hair was wild and untamed around her head like a mane as she slept. The ray illuminated the facets of her dark hair, mahogany, auburn, chestnut, caramel, and rich, rich chocolate.

I wanted to run my hands over the soft strands, to feel the silk slipping through my fingers. I wanted to know how it would feel against my own skin, but that would have to wait.

I did wait, and I bet you're wondering if it was worth it?

More than you could imagine.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help with this."

.

Rose took a deep breath.

"Is that it?" I asked. Emotions stirred in me at this unknown man's words. It was so sensual and personal, I almost felt guilty reading it.

"No. Nothing else." She held up the page for me to see. "What are you going to make for him?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe some dark chocolate? Or, perhaps I should marble it? What about chocolate caramels?" I chewed the inside of my cheek in thought.

"Yes, chocolate caramels are perfect. Gosh, I wish I had brown hair now." Rose pulled on a blonde curl.

"I know what you mean." I thought about my own naturally dark hair, now dyed a deep red. It had seemed a good idea at the time, though Rose wanted me to dye it jet black so I could be Betty Paige to her Betty Grable. Maybe a change would be good. I decided I would make an appointment to get it done. They say there's no better cure for heartache than a makeover— though I already knew that wasn't true.

~OK&PH~

The radio buzzed the next morning, waking me with the news that there was going to be a heat wave. I slammed my hand down on it, turning it off, and rolled out of bed. Dressing for the extreme heat, I wore my floaty, pale blue and white pinstriped shorts and a white sleeveless blouse. It knotted at my waist, leaving a flash of my pale skin without revealing too much. After twisting my hair into a chignon—the cloying heat from my thick hair on my neck would be unbearable—I tied a mint green chiffon scarf to keep my bangs back and slid my sandals on, hurrying outside.

Rose had the same idea and was dressed in a yellow cotton sundress with a nautical collar as she swept the sidewalk outside the shop. Loose curls tumbled down from where she'd pinned them, and she swept them away from her face as she spoke, "Morning, Bella. Don't forget the new supplier is going to be here today."

Our old supplier had refused to budge and would not refund a penny for the ruined chocolate. So, like a jilted bride, I was casting my eyes elsewhere.

"I haven't, and I think we're going to need to make sure the ice machine is stocked up today. It's going to be a hot one." She agreed, and I headed straight for the workshop, setting to the day's tasks.

I realized after an hour or two of losing myself in the soothing tempering and molding of a batch of Chocolate toffees, that she hadn't mentioned a letter, so I went to find her. The shop was quiet, and she stood out on the sidewalk talking to a man. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. He wore dark jeans over white Chucks and a black t-shirt. Its sleeves were rolled up, fighting a losing battle against his bulging biceps.

I went to stand with them outside, hoping there would at least be a breeze, but already it was stifling. The leaves on the magnolia trees that lined our street were motionless. Even the birds that usually filled the air with their high-pitched chirps had quieted, no doubt hiding in the shade.

"Hello." I alerted them to my presence. Rose looked flushed, and I saw the man had a glass of iced tea in his hand. The cool trails of condensation dripping down the side, making me realize I was parched.

"Oh, Bella, this is Mac. He's the new supplier. Mac, this is my boss, Bella." She beamed at him.

He took my hand, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Bella. Rose has been telling me all about the problems with your previous supplier. I hope we'll be able to work much better with you. We pride ourselves on our quality products and customer service." His smile revealed two childlike dimples that almost seemed out of place on such a mountain of a man. His demeanor gave me reassurance, and I left Rose to fill him in. I'd never seen her so animated.

After getting a cold glass of tea, I remembered the letter. My eyes skimmed the empty surfaces, before sweeping to the floor, finally spotting a tiny corner of a cream envelope peeking out from under the doormat. Leaning down to slide it out, I read the front. There was no stamp there; it must have been hand-delivered

I was going to wait for Rose, but curiosity got the better of me, and I opened it, concerned that I wouldn't have enough time to make the order.

.

Dear Cocoa Swan,

I hope these letters are finding you well and my ramblings make sense?

The first time I saw her naked, she took my breath away. I don't think I've ever gotten it back.

I savored her slowly, focusing on one part of her body at a time. She was so close to me that it was easy. Her hair had been lightened by the sun, and when I brushed it away from her shoulder, I noticed a trail of freckles had appeared on her sun-kissed skin. They reminded me of a shooting star. The largest trailing into almost invisible specks, and she shivered as I traced the line with my finger. Her skin was hot from the sun it had soaked in, and there was a pale line hidden from the rays by a strap. I pulled the material down slowly, removing it from her body, and I brushed my lips on that shooting star. The smell of her skin was mouthwatering as I ran my nose along her shoulder to her neck and travelling up until finally, I kissed her lips. She smelled like coconuts, and she tasted like love.

I have managed to secure an address for the delivery, but I will have to inform you of the time, as I need to finalize a few things. Please could you deliver the box to 17 Appleseed Street. There is a gated garden in between a row of red brick houses. You will find the entrance there.

Thank you again.

.

My heart thumped against my chest, and the sensuality of his words heated my cheeks. I hoped that his wife would get to see these letters; perhaps I could include them in the chocolate box. I wasn't sure whether that would be presumptuous of me, but I gathered them all together anyway and wrapped some silver string around them, deciding I would take them and ask him. She shouldn't miss out on his wonderful words.

My mother was an avid journal-keeper, noting her thoughts, worries, fears, and dreams down, every single day. I read it from time to time, getting comfort from her familiar scrawl. I'd started one myself after my eighteenth birthday, jotting down my muddled teenage thoughts. The pages of the worn leather bound notebook were almost falling out. It had lain unopened in my handbag for months; I'd lost the will to keep it up. My thoughts only wanted to fill it with the same thing over and over and over—the same words, the same question, and the same prayer.

I shook my head as if to dislodge the thoughts that were starting to take form, grabbing some desiccated coconut from the shelf and setting to work on some coconut fudge.

Rose appeared, chatting excitedly about the new supplier as I poured the boiled sugar into new trays. "He's asked to take me out tomorrow night. There's a movie playing at the open air cinema."

She was ridiculously giddy, and I enjoyed the light relief, chatting about what she would wear after I'd agreed she could finish early. She had all but forgotten about the letter, until I reminded her about it, and she looked a little dizzy as she agreed that I should package his notes up with the delivery. I avoiding heading outside into the heat, and instead spent most of the evening making a batch of creams—peppermint, rose, strawberry—and some tiny caramel drops.

~OK&PH~

The next day, I picked a full-skirted dress, feeling the need to boost my mood with some fun. Rose and I both had a penchant for the netted underskirts, and I had a rainbow of them in my closet. I chose a deep red one, and slipped my A-line dress over the top. It was covered in a pattern of cherries, so I slicked my red lips on and left my hair loose, finger waving the curls away from my face. I looked at the girl in the mirror, her clothes looked fun and her figure was beautiful. Her hair striking and her eyes bold. She should have felt like she was walking on air, but instead she felt deflated.

I didn't even get a chance to get inside the shop before Rose waved the letter in my face. She pulled me down into an aquamarine painted chair next to where she was sat, laying the letter out on the ornate mint green table outside the shop window. "Quick, lets open it now before we open up."

.

Dear Cocoa Swan,

This is my last request, and I want to say thank you for everything you've done so far.

The first time we made love…

Perhaps this is too personal to write down. Maybe a few words will help.

Soft curves and burning desire, need and lust. Hot breath and grasping hands. Satin skin and slick heat. And undeniable love, heart pounding, breath stealing, shuddering love.

Please, could you deliver to the address in my previous letter at 7pm this evening?

Once again, I am forever in your debt.

.

Neither of us spoke after we'd finished reading the letter. But, my heart was pounding and my breath was stolen. How could so few words be so erotic?

"Wow," Rose said.

"Yes. Wow," I echoed her sentiment.

"What do you think this time?"

"Something powerful. It has to be. How about … no." I shook my head trying to think of the perfect chocolate.

"What about dark chili truffles?" Rose added.

"Maybe," I replied. "In each of his letters he's told us about the things that remind him of her—the flavors and scents. But, when it comes down to it, the one thing that shines through above all of that is his love for her."

Rose nodded, slotting the letter back into the envelope. "What are you thinking?"

"He loves her—pure and simple—so perhaps that's what we should give him."

"Plain chocolate?" Rose sounded disappointed.

"No. The purest, richest dark chocolate in the world," I suggested.

Rose gasped, "Yes, that's absolutely perfect." She jumped up, clapping her hands. "I can't wait to find out what she thinks. She is one lucky lady."

"I think they're both lucky." I smiled at her, trying to ignore the pain in my own heart.

"Do you want me to deliver? I can take them before I go to meet Mac?" Rose asked as I followed her in, her knee-length, paisley-patterned sundress swirled around her legs, the sunlight showing their outline.

"Thanks, that will be a great help. I have a big order for a benefit I need to get started on," I explained.

I spent the rest of the day melting, tempering, and molding pools of milk, dark and white chocolate. I'd put aside some simple squares for the mystery man, stamping a small heart in each square as a finishing touch. I wrapped up his box and tied it with a string, putting the letters next to it, ready for Rose to deliver.

Just as she was about to leave, she rushed through the door with a distressed look on her face.

"Bella, we've just had a call." She was frantic, and I couldn't tell whether it was from excitement or stress. "It was our mystery man."

"He called?" I was shocked. I'd half expected him to be imaginary.

"Yes. He apologized, but he wants to add something to the order," she explained.

I looked at the clock that hung on the wall. "But I thought he wanted them delivered in half an hour?"

"He said he doesn't mind if it's a little later. But I …" She paused, and I understood her worry.

"It's fine. Don't panic. I can deliver it. You get off and enjoy your date." I waved her away.

"Oh, thank you. I owe you." She blew me a kiss and turned to leave.

"Rose, what did he want?" I shouted before she disappeared.

She peeked through the door, and her cheeks were flushed pink. "He wants three dipped Kirsch cherries. That's all he said—no stories this time. He sounded so delicious."

I laughed at the way she rolled the word over her tongue. "Okay, have a good time tonight."

As I prepared the chocolates from scratch, I wondered what they stood for.

Something even more personal than the last letter? I flushed at the thought. Or perhaps something he remembered she liked—cherry coke, cherry lip-gloss, cherry pie.

Dipping the alcohol-soaked cherries in the melted dark chocolate, I stood them upright by their stalks and placed them in the refrigerator to set while I cleared everything away. I didn't mind making the delivery, I was intrigued to meet the mystery man, and hopefully, I might catch a glimpse of his wife. With the box of chocolate that represented his love clutched in my hands, I turned off the lights and locked up, heading to Appleseed Street.

It was only a few blocks away, so I didn't have to worry about the chocolates melting as I walked through the darkening streets. The sun was setting, and the sky was streaked with pink and orange clouds, fading from cerulean blue to the colors of dusk. A gentle breeze cooled my bare shoulders.

Finding the faded sign that spelled out the right name, I walked along the road until red brick turned to wrought iron wrapped in varying shades of green foliage. I unlatched the gate, walking down the gravel path that crunched under my sandals. Sweet magnolia hung in the air mixed with the fresh scent of roses, and a spicier scent I couldn't recall. The garden gradually darkened the further I walked, the tall buildings on either side casting a shadow, but up ahead, I saw the warm pinpricks of fairy lights wrapped around an archway of wisteria. Hoping that would lead to the door, I drew closer.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized someone was standing there.

I smiled and headed toward him, but as he stepped out of the shadows, I faltered, dropping the box of chocolates at my feet, my hands flying to my mouth to stifle my cry. Tears blurred my vision until I had to blink them away.

He stood in the dimming light, smart in his army-green uniform, his hat tucked under his arm. It could have been any soldier returning home from war, but his handsome face, strong jaw, and perfectly kissable lips, left me in no doubt. The crooked smile that I'd thought about, day in and day out, made my knees feel weak, and my heart leapt in my chest.

"Edward." The word fell from my mouth in a whimper, and I flew into his arms, feeling the smooth green material of his uniform under my fingers as I grasped onto his shoulders.

"Bella." He caught me easily, clutching onto me as I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms round his neck, burying my face into his shoulder as sobs shook my body.

He spoke my name over and over, gripping my head and lifting it so he could look at me. He peppered kisses all over my skin and my lips, kissing away my tears while I kissed away his. I ran my fingers all over his face, feeling the stubble along his jaw, and his lips before running my fingers through his short hair, as if I had to feel every minute detail for it to be real.

"I don't understand. You're here. Are you really here?" I couldn't stop the tears from falling, and I clung onto him as if my life depended on it. He bunched the red netting of my skirt in his hands as he pulled me against him, muttering his love for me, breathless and rasping.

"I'm here. I love you, Bella. I'm here." His words wrapped around me until I thought my heart would explode.

"I love you so much." I whispered against his lips, kissing them over and over, tasting and savoring until it overwhelmed me, but still I couldn't stop.

Eventually, he lowered me to the ground, keeping his arms around me, my body pressed against his chest. I nuzzled my face against his crisp khaki shirt and black tie, while he pressed kisses to my forehead until I gasped at the realization that I'd dropped the chocolates on the ground. I span round and picked up the box, dusting it off, hoping they were still on one piece.

"I'm supposed to deliver these. I …" The shock of seeing him stood there had knocked all coherent thoughts from my mind.

"Bella, my love." Edward held his hand out to me and I took it. He sat down on the brick steps under the archway, pulling me to sit next to him. "The chocolates are for you."

"For me? No, they're for an anniversary. It's a wedding anniversary." I furrowed my brow in confusion, searching his handsome face. The fairy lights reflected in his eyes, so I couldn't see them clearly, but I knew they were the color of peppermint leaves. His strong jaw and nose were more defined by the shadows and his plump lips were moist and red, like the skin of a ripe plum. I couldn't believe my own eyes, reaching out to trace the shape of his lips with my fingertip.

"They're for you," he repeated, and my mind slowly processed what he meant. Emotions flooded me, and I couldn't speak.

"Open the box?" he asked, taking my hand and kissing the pads of my fingers.

When he'd finally kissed all five, he released it, and I slipped the silver string off, opening the lid. The chocolates had jumbled all over, so I took a moment to straighten them and to ground myself. His appearance, and now his revelation about the letters, had knocked me sideways—the words were all meant for me.

"Which is the first letter?" Edward leaned so close as he looked in, his familiar scent washed over me, and I breathed in deeply. How many nights had I lay awake clutching his t-shirts to my chest, terrified that I'd never smell it again?

I picked out the chocolate, holding it up to his mouth so he could take a bite. "cappuccino swirl." I ate the other half, relishing the mix of rich chocolate and bitter coffee that exploded across my taste buds. Edward leant in and kissed my lips, running his tongue along them until I opened up for him to taste more, deeper. He hummed as our tongues danced lazily before he asked. "Do you remember that day?"

I smiled as he brushed his thumb across my lips, shaking my head; it was such a familiar gesture. I could have never guessed which time he'd meant.

"It was the day you and your mom signed the lease on the shop," he explained.

"But that was just weeks after we met." Edward had crossed my path, changing it inexorably, just after I graduated high school. He'd been two years older than me. We'd met at a bonfire during a summer of beach barbeques and salty skin. I'd immediately steered clear of him, intimidated by his good looks and boisterous charm, but we'd eventually became friends over that summer, and it had remained that way until well into the fall, despite the fact that I'd been madly in love with him for months.

"It was the first time I'd seen you so talkative in front of me." He laughed softly. "You lit up the whole damn coffee shop, and I knew then that you were the one."

"You knew I was in love with you too, right?" I fingered the fragile tissue paper as I spoke.

"I hoped you were. That's for sure."

"I was. Deeply," I told him, watching the crooked smile that passed across his face.

"Which was the next letter?" He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer to him. Our bodies were touching all the way down to our knees. My bare legs flush against his dark green army slacks. I held up the dark orange crunch, and he took a bite.

Edward rolled his eyes in appreciation. "I love that one."

I ran the words of the letter through my mind, and I realized now what he was referring to. When I'd compared the mystery man's kiss to ours, it had been the first proper kiss we'd had, pressed up around the side of my house in the darkness so my parents wouldn't see. I'd been drunk on Edward and dancing at the town hall jive competition. That kiss had carved out who I'd become in so many ways. The way I dressed, the music I listened to, the man I loved. I saw how they all linked together. But that wasn't the kiss Edward meant.

"It was an orange ice lolly," I reminded him. "You came to meet us at the park. We'd been sitting on the wall of the fountain all afternoon trying to keep cool. You threatened to throw me in, remember?" He nodded. "I ran away and tried to hide, but you caught me easily. I'd been eating an orange ice-lolly and still had the wooden stick clamped in my teeth, but you pulled it out and kissed me quickly, picking me up and dumping me into the water. It was the first time you'd ever done anything like that—kissed me."

"I've never forgotten that day. I just couldn't remember why oranges always reminded me so much of it." He'd dropped his hand down to my hip and was tracing lazy circles. It was almost dark now. The only glow came from the lights that wound around the archway and window, up the sides of the building.

He continued, "When I was away on tour, I always looked out for oranges, you know, and they're pretty hard to come by in a warzone. The guys would laugh at me because I always smelled the peel before I ate them, savoring every single segment. When I closed my eyes, I could picture you vividly, and it helped me get through every day."

It was my turn to kiss him now, and we lost ourselves in each other again for long minutes.

"The third?" Edward spoke, his warm breath tickling against my lips. I searched out the chocolate caramel.

"Watch your teeth on this one." I held it to his lips and he bit down until it was split in two. We both sat in silence, chewing the sticky toffee, until he laughed and set me off too. Hearing his deep chuckle felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me. I felt the relief at hearing it again right down to my bones. I closed my eyes, memorizing it as I always did every time he came home on leave, storing it to bring out on the worst days, when it hurt to breath, when I missed him so much.

"I noticed you've changed your hair. It's red and fiery." He tugged on a curl, wrapping it around his finger.

"I thought it might make me feel better." I'd had a particularly bad month, not hearing from him for weeks on end—similar to this last time, although that had turned into almost two months. Every passing second without contact had seemed like it dragged on for an eternity. Time was in slow motion, but my anxiety for him was in fast forward.

"I like it," he added, and I felt him breathe in with his nose buried in my hair. "You always smell like chocolate. I've missed that."

"When did you first see me sleeping?" I asked, remembering the looping handwriting spelling out the words broken heart. It could only have been related to my mom's death. A drunk driver had mown her down on her way home from work. The impact of that one person's selfishness had created a tidal wave across the town, devastating many people. The destruction was the worst for those of us at the epicenter of her life.

"The morning afterwards. Your dad let me in. I didn't want to disturb you, but I couldn't leave you alone," he explained.

"I knew you'd come, but I didn't realize you'd stayed," I said, feeling the scratch of his stubble on my shoulder as he rested his chin there.

"I've never felt so helpless in all my life as I did during that time."

I leaned my cheek against his forehead, and then pressed a kiss to it. "I know." Edward cradled my face in his hands and captured my lips, slowly caressing my tongue with his. When he stopped for air, he leant his forehead against mine and the sounds of our heightened breaths were accompanied by the cicada calls, building into their night chorus.

I felt his smile against my skin as he brushed his lips over my cheek. "I'm looking forward to the next one," he joked, and I found the coconut fudge, letting him sink his teeth into the stodgy sweetness.

"You know, I didn't put two and two together at all. I even thought how beautiful a shooting star of freckles sounded. I didn't know I had that." I brushed my hair back from my shoulder, but there was no use in this light, you couldn't see a thing.

"I've never seen it so distinct as that summer, and it was just my interpretation of it." He shrugged. I felt his fingers trace along the small dip of my shoulder.

"Because, I burnt myself at the outdoor pool. I remember now, I was so mad that I had ridiculous strap lines, and I had to cover myself from head to toe in aloe vera cream to take the heat out."

"Peeling you out of that sundress was one of the most incredible moments of my life." He growled, lightly his finger running underneath the strap of my dress and down towards my cleavage. "I've missed this so much." His fingers trailed a blaze over my skin.

"What was the next chocolate?" he asked; his voice gruff.

"I picked the small square and snapped it in half, handing part to him and letting the other melt on my tongue. The rich taste sent my taste buds into a riot, and I moaned in appreciation. For all the variations and flavors I made day in day out, pure dark chocolate was my favorite.

Edward reacted instantly to my throaty moan and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me into his lap, spinning me around so I was straddling him. His hands skimmed under the red netting, fluffing it up. I felt him grasp onto my knees, slowly sliding his hands up my thighs until he grasped my hips, pulling me against him. I could fell his arousal already, and the throbbing started to build between my legs.

"I can't wait to feel you. I'm going to savor every inch of you, and then I'm going to do it again, and again." He caught my lips, biting down gently, and I could taste the bitter chocolate still left in his mouth.

"What about the cherries. What were they for?" I asked as he nuzzled at my neck with his lips. The roughness of his five o'clock shadow sent tremors through my body.

Edward pulled away and held my shoulders pushing me back gently, splaying his hands across my waist, tracing the pattern on my dress with his fingers. I watched for a moment until it clicked. "You saw me?"

"I couldn't help it. I was desperate to see you. Even though I'd planned this grand idea, I wanted to throw it all away and just scoop you up into my arms when I saw you through the shop window. And I chose three cherries because …" he chuckled, "…

I was remembering the song you always sang when you ate them, counting the cherry stones."

"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor Man, beggar man, thief?" I ran through the list, counting to three. "Soldier." I laughed, my head falling back. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"I remember everything you say." He added, causing me to laugh even more. He had a terrible memory.

"How did you do all this? When did you get back?" My mind sifted through the past few days for an explanation as to how he'd managed to surprise me.

"I only got back today, but I knew I was coming home four days ago—the day your first letter arrived." He smiled sheepishly while I narrowed my eyes at him.

"How did you get the letters here so quickly?" I asked.

"I had a little help," he admitted. I was intrigued, but there was only one real accomplice.

"My dad." I wanted to feel angry with them both. They'd known how desperately worried I was, and they had the chance to allay my fears four days ago, but they chose to wait.

As if he could read my mind, he responded, "Don't be angry with him. I made him promise. He didn't like it, but he agreed."

"So you sent the letters to him?" I was confused at the timings.

"Bella, I wrote those letters a year ago before I shipped out. Your dad's had them ever since," he explained, nipping my earlobe and dragging his teeth down it. I shivered from the exquisite sensation. "He rewrote them for me with the timings."

I puzzled over the handwriting, deciding it must have been Sue. Neither Edward nor my dad could have managed such beautiful script; their usual scrawl was often illegible. I was forever squinting, trying to decipher the love notes Edward left for me, dotted around our home.

"I can't believe you planned all this. When I read those letters, I was so jealous of the woman the described. The words were so beautiful, and his love for her was palpable and so, so sensual. It took my breath away."

"And made your heart pound." He added.

"Yes, and you're doing it again now." I looked into his eyes, still in shock that he was sitting here in front of me, and he'd gone to all this trouble to surprise me.

"You do the same to me. Every single time." He punctuated each word with a kiss to my collarbone. "Is there anything else you didn't understand about the letter? Another question you want to ask?"

I thought for a moment and there was. One thing.

"Your letters said it was for your wife's anniversary, and so I never suspected it was from you, well, because I'm not your wife."

Edward's eyes burned into mine. He brushed his thumb across my lips as he had done when he wiped away the cappuccino foam. He traced his finger across my shoulder where I knew the shooting star was hidden, and then he tangled his fingers into my hair, gently tugging. I let my head fall back, opening my neck to him; he ran his nose along the column of soft skin, humming. The throaty sound travelled to every single nerve ending until they danced. Finally, he pressed a lingering kiss to my lips.

"Bella." He paused, trailing his hand down over my heart, pressing his palm against my skin, his eyes held my gaze. "For me, there's only ever been you. From the moment I laid my eyes on you that summer, there has been nothing else. I only see you. I only need you. No matter the awful things I saw and experienced, I always turned my thoughts to you. You were my sanctuary." Under the warmth of his hand I could feel my heart thumping, or perhaps it was his thrumming in response.

The sparkle of lights around us intensified the emotions shining in his eyes, and I could feel warms tears trailing down my cheeks. The pressure of my heart bursting out of my chest with love for him was almost unbearable. Edward pulled me closer and ran his hands down my sides, over the curves of my hips, and then back up. The movement was almost reverential.

"I know you're mine like I know the grass is green, and the sun is hot." Edward laughed softly, tightening his hands around my waist. "It's just a simple fact. Nothing complicated or confusing about it. You are my life, Bella." His words hung in the air like petals on a breeze. Everything around us faded into the background as my eyes soaked in his face—a face that I'd etched in my mind and on my heart, indelibly. His face held an expression of pure adoration that mirrored my own.

Edward cupped my cheeks, brushing my tears away with his thumbs. His lips curved into a smile full of nervous anticipation. "Will you let me be yours?"

I couldn't help but smile at his question—as if he could ever have any doubt of my answer. "You always have been."

He let out a slow shaky breath "Bella, will you marry me?"

I brushed my lips against his as I answered over and over again. "Yes."

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