Page 12 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

Her glare intensifies. “What are?—”

I nudge the pan toward her. “Don’t you need to put the batter in that?”

She doesn’t move, not for a long moment. Then she sighs heavily and reaches for the bowl.

“You know,” I say, “I don’t get the fuss about chocolate.”

I know women love it, especially when they’re on their periods and that entire national holidays have been built around giving it—Valentine’s Day and fancy chocolates, Easter and the chocolate bunnies and pieces hidden in tiny plastic eggs.

I just…don’t get it.

When she doesn’t answer, I look up from the counter, see she’s gone slack-jawed. “What?” I ask into the quiet that’s fallen.

“You don’t like chocolate?”

Why is she asking it like that? Like I’ve just committed the worst sort of crime?

In fact, they’re all looking at me like that.

I frown as River stares at me for several long seconds, and frankly, I don’t care if she’s looking at me like I’m nuts. It’s nice to finally see her eyes, her adorable nose, her kissable mouth?—

The way her blush spreads prettily on her cheeks.

Then she shakes her head slowly.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she says, pouring out the batter.

“Though”—I set the towel aside—“if there was any chocolate that I’d like, it would be yours.”

Her eyes fly to mine.

“What?” I ask again.

River blinks, something sliding across her expression.

Not annoyance. Something…softer?

Then it disappears. “I need to get these in the oven so I can go home.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Briar asks.

“No,” she says. “I have to go.”

Briar opens her mouth to protest, but River holds her stare. “I have plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Briar asks suspiciously.

“My plans,” River says firmly.

“But—”

“Raindrop,” Brooks interjects and their gazes clash for a moment.

Then Briar huffs out a breath. “Fine.” A scowl. “But if your plans are so important, I can finish the brownies up.”

River has just slid them into the oven and she turns back, concern on her face. “I?—”