Spying in Chocolate

By SarahsSupplyCloset

Author's Note: Thanks for your patience on my fics. The holidays were a mess. And please stay safe out there. This thing is really never-ending and I wish people would just get their vaccines and wear their masks and stop making life so difficult for everyone else. Please PLEASE think about other people for ONCE. Anyway, that rant aside, hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck and I'm not making money.

Chuck stepped up to the door and knocked as best he could with his elbow, his hands full with their impromptu meal. It took a good 30 seconds before he heard the locks turning, and in the meantime, his eyes had fastened on the handball sized hole in the window beside the door, where the little pricks had thrown the wrench into Sarah's shop.

He frowned at it glumly.

But as Sarah opened the door, a smile naturally burst onto his face, seeing her again filling him with something…so so good. "Hello."

"Hi," she said, and she smiled in a way that showed her teeth. He nearly swayed from the power of it. "Come in. Oh God, I can smell the food already."

"Hungry?"

"So hungry."

Chuckling, he stepped to the side and let her shut and double lock the door behind him. She had low light in the main shop, and it was starting to look genuinely cozy and beautiful now that the wood was starting to cover the place.

He turned and gestured to the window with his chin. "That tarp working okay? I brought something thicker in the Herder's trunk if you need it. It matches the paper's color and isn't quite so, er…"

"Blue?" she asked, tilting her head cutely.

"Well, yeah. Might be a little less obvious there's a broken window here. But it's up to you."

She smiled hard at him and reached out to run her hand down his button-up. "We can worry about the window after we eat, but that was thoughtful of you, Chuck. Seriously."

"S'nothin'," he said, shrugging modestly. "We eating on the bar like last time?"

"Um, no. No, go ahead and bring the food back here to the kitchen."

He raised his eyebrows and followed her to the back.

She held the door to the kitchen open for him and he was too busy bowing his head with an accented "thank'oo" to take in his surroundings until a good 5 to 7 seconds after he walked into the kitchen.

He froze when he finally did look.

Sarah had tossed a tablecloth over the end of the counter that jutted off of the cooking section in the middle of the kitchen. There was a candle in the middle of it, held up by a makeshift candle holder, aka tinfoil she'd bunched up around it. And she'd carried in two stools from the bar in the front, putting one on each side.

"Uh, yeah, it's…sort of an apology for shooing you away earlier. I wasn't…handling the whole wrench getting thrown through the window thing well at all and I am not used to someone being around when I'm, um, like that. Like this. I'm…still a little shaky if I'm being completely honest with you. So yeah, I thought this might make it…not a date, maybe, but kinda nice, right?"

He wanted to put the food down and pick HER up. He wanted to hold her until every last bit of the shakiness and whatever other bad feeling she harbored went away. But that was intense. And he didn't want to be intense.

So he teased instead.

"Wait… did you just say 'date'?" He sent her a wide-eyed look.

Her eyes widened too as she seemed to scramble for a response. He rescued her by breaking into a toothy grin, and she shut her eyes, sighing heavily, before opening them again and giving him a flat look. "Really? You're gonna pull that with me? Tonight of all nights?"

He giggled. "Sorry. I'm a menace. Good to know we were both on the same page with our almost dinner date. I wasn't positive you took it that way, but I am now."

"You're an asshole," she laughed, snatching one of the bags from him and opening it to look inside even as she walked over to their table.

But he wondered if this was a date. Technically they were together and she'd fixed up a "table" of sorts with a candle, plates, and everything. Sure they were plastic plates, and the tablecloth looked plastic too. But who cared?

The burritos, chips, salsa, and horchata were dispersed quickly, both of them apparently hungry enough that there wasn't even much conversation, just eating, glancing at one another past the lit candle, smiling, and going back to it.

Chuck gathered up the trash and shoved it into the bags. "Okay, making a dumpster run. Anything else you need to go out?"

"Yeah, since you teased me earlier, you can take out that bag of trash, too." She pointed at a black plastic trash bag tied off in the corner of the kitchen near the freezer.

"If that's the only consequence, I'm teasing you more often." She laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows at her, heading over to the bag and snagging it. "I'll be right back."

"You better be. I need a taste tester for some new chocolate ideas I came up with."

"Oh! I'm running!"

Her laughter followed him out of the side door as he literally ran through it, letting it shut behind him. The air was cool out tonight, and it felt good as he trotted down the steps onto the pavement, heading towards the dumpster.

But the hair stood up on the back of his neck as he pushed at the lid of the dumpster to toss the trash bags into it.

He turned to look down the alley towards the lot on the other side of the shop and saw a dark car sitting parked in two spots, idle. The way the nearby light post shone light down on the car made a figure visible inside of it. Someone was sitting in the driver's seat, just watching. He felt them watching him in particular, even as he turned to face them full on, straightening his spine.

Who in the hell just parked there like that watching…?

The note Sarah'd taken off of the wrench. Had this person thrown the wrench through her window? Did they write the note?

Chuck quickly threw the rest of the garbage away and immediately started walking towards them. Was it stupid? Maybe.

Was he doing it anyway? Yep.

He clenched his fists as he walked towards the car. But then the lights turned on, blaring in his face. He held up his hands to block it from his eyes, and he was forced to watch as the car buzzed out of the parking lot, not fast as if they were afraid he was any real threat to them, but slow and methodical, confident almost.

It freaked him out.

Were people watching Sarah's shop now? The same people who produced the wrench with the note attached to it?

He decided he was nuts for thinking that. He pushed it out of his mind, and he walked back to the steps, moving much more slowly up them, opening the door and going inside. Somebody was probably just…resting in their car or something. And they spotted him come out the side door to throw out the trash, and when he started walking towards them, it spooked them and they decided to leave. That was normal enough.

And Sarah was already rattled by the wrench incident, and by whatever had been on that note. He didn't want to freak her out further by telling her what just happened, when it was probably a totally harmless thing.

So he pushed it out of his head completely as he swung back into the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink.

"How'd it go?" she asked teasingly.

"Haaaa. Great. So good, yeah. The dumpster was very cooperative," he said over his shoulder, turning off the sink and drying his hands.

"Thanks for doing that," she said sincerely then as he wandered back to sit across from her again.

"My pleasure. And hey, listen, any time you need some trash to be taken out, I'm your guy." He poked himself in the chest with his thumb.

"Oh, really?" she giggled. "Any kind of trash?"

"Literally any and all trashes. Including piece of shit almost-landlords."

Sarah raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. "There was nothing almost about it. No damn way was I going to rent that place the second I saw him give me the creeper eye when my realtor and I first got there. The place was already out. Not that I didn't look at it anyway," she said conspiratorially, leaning close to him and looking up at him through her eyelashes. "And it's really too bad, because it was so cute and so perfect." She huffed in frustration.

"Well, this wouldn't be happening right now if you had chosen that place in spite of the sexual harasser landlord. So hopefully that's a plus that'll make you feel better about missing out on it."

"It is a plus," she said immediately. "Though I…did leave you my phone number before my run-in with Sammy the Sexual Harasser."

Yikes. The look she gave him was pretty blatant. And he deserved it. He winced. And she continued.

"So the real question is…would you have eventually used the number if I hadn't ended up renting this place instead of that one? The ball was sorta in your court."

"It was. And instead of taking advantage, I…" He winced again.

"Okay," she said when he didn't finish. And she even rolled her eyes a bit at him as she climbed up to her feet. She grabbed her stool, walked it around to the corner next to him, put it down, and sat on it again, leaning her elbow on the countertop and dropping her chin in her palm. "Moment of truth. You called me using that number tonight, which means you kept it because I only ever gave it to you that one time when we first met in the Buy More. What's the deal, Chuck?"

Well, shit. Was it too late to bring up the car in the parking lot? The driver watching him from behind the wheel, in the dark, like a creeper? That'd be a good distraction.

But cruel.

Chuck sighed heavily, before he dug in his pocket and pulled out the folded up post-it. "At the risk of seeming like a complete weirdo idiot, here it is." He slapped it down on the counter between them.

"You still have that in your pocket?" she exclaimed, and she let out a surprised giggle. "Why?" She picked it up and opened it, peering down at it. "Apparently I absolutely failed at flirting when I did this," she admitted with a self-deprecating smirk, wiggling the post-it in the air before putting it down on the countertop.

"You didn't fail at anything, I-I failed at…having even a speck of courage. I also didn't quite catch that you were flirting but again, that's all on me." He was blushing bad. He could feel it. "Okay, just bear with me for a second. I'm going to try to explain. I'm probably going to sound like a complete loser but here's the honest to God truth."

She waited patiently as he took a big long breath and let it out slowly.

"There's no rhyme or reason to the way my brain worked through all of this, and I absolutely know that I was wrong to wait until tonight to call you. I'm just a mess, Sarah. In ways you can't even begin to understand. Part of that, the whole being a mess thing, is that I was—and have been since then—genuinely confused about how that phone number ended up in my possession in the first place."

She frowned in question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it just boggles my mind that a woman like you could…go for a guy like me. To the point where after only a few minutes of us interacting, you gave me your phone number to call you for a DATE, I mean that's just…I didn't understand. It didn't compute. YOU wanting to go on a date with ME. Just…" He demonstrated his head blowing up with his hands and mouth.

She smirked a little but her eyes were serious as they stayed on him, her chin still propped in her palm. "Did you think I gave you a fake number or something like that?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. That would've been cruel, I mean, I didn't even ask you for a number because it didn't occur to me you'd ever be interested in a guy like me for ANY reason let alone you wanting to go on a DATE with me? No way. It wasn't like I thought you were being cruel. I guess I wondered if you were confused?" She narrowed her eyes dubiously. "No, really. Like, maybe you saw something in me that wasn't there. I dunno. Some physical attribute or something in what I said or did that made me seem better than I am. And I didn't call you because I just thought the second you actually, you know, met me and got to know me, you'd regret giving me your phone number. So I figured I'd save you the trouble."

"You're nuts," she said quietly. And then she reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. "What I saw that day was a good man who seemed sweet and funny, cute even. Meeting you and getting to know you better only emphasized that I was right about you. It's underscored what I saw in you."

He gaped at her a little. "Oh. Ahem. Like-Like I said, I'm…aware of how stupid and unbalanced my thought process around you and this phone number has been."

"Okay, you've explained why you didn't call me. Unfair self-doubt and thinking I'm somehow so far above you, which you're absolutely wrong about." He gave her a doubtful look and she glared back at him for it. "What you haven't explained yet is why this?" She tapped the post-it. "You keep producing it from your pocket, Chuck. Which means that even though we've been hanging out since then, getting to know one another, becoming friends, and…that…kiss in my apartment the other day…" Chuck blushed as she bit her lip shyly. He wanted a reenactment of that kiss. Right now. Though he guessed now wasn't the time. She wanted answers, not a make out sesh.

If he could somehow manage both, though…

Shaking himself, he cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the countertop. "That's a little easier to explain. See, I, um, like you a whole lot." He shrugged, as if that explained everything, but he could see on her face that it did not explain everything.

"Do you…keep stuff in your pocket anytime you like someone?" she asked almost tentatively.

"N-No. It's not—Okay, I kept this in particular because I like you a lot and you, a beautiful funny sweet badass talented super smart woman, wrote down your phone number and gave it to ME out of all people. And it was kind of a reminder for me that I…can hold my head up. You know? In spite of all the things not going…perfect in my life. At least an incredible woman gave me her phone number. Whether she knew what she was getting into when she did it or not, she still did it."

Sarah just stared at him, eventually shaking her head in utter disbelief. "So you didn't call me because you thought you didn't deserve to go out on a date with a woman like me, but you kept my number in your pocket to remind yourself that a woman like me liked you enough at first blush to give you a phone number…"

He wrinkled his nose. "Well, when you say it like that…"

"Chuck."

"I know, I know. Feel free to cancel this date, and any subsequent dates, and also our friendship. I wouldn't judge you for it."

"You freaking idiot, I'm not canceling anything." She shoved his arm and giggled. "But you know it sounds ridiculous right?"

"I know it does. But I wanted to tell the truth. As ridiculous as I figured it would sound. I told you I'm kind of a mess."

She put her finger on the post-it, a quiet smile on her face, and she leaned in closer. "You put this in your phone now, right?"

He chuckled. "I did. Yeah." She picked up the post-it then, and she grabbed his hand. "What're you—?" She slapped it into his palm, then forced him to close his fist around it.

"There. If you really need to keep that with you to remind yourself that you're a great guy, do it. I actually think it's probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard." She paused, grinning at him, but then the grin dimmed and she moved in even closer. Oh God yes. She was mere inches away, biting her lip. "But I need you to hear this from me, let it sink in…" Please let her kiss him. He was dying to feel her lips on his again. "I don't just give my number out to whatever guy I cross paths with, especially not when I've just moved to a new city. I don't make friends easily, and I definitely don't keep them easily. I'm an introvert, a raging introvert you could say. And after…" She looked to the side, swallowed hard, and then glanced back up at him. He couldn't read the look on her face. "Let's just say I haven't had the best romantic luck. I didn't give you my number lightly. It was a weighted decision. And I'm glad I made the decision I did. Because you are even better than I thought when I wrote down my phone number on that post-it."

"Well…" He swallowed thickly, trying to catch his breath. He didn't know how to take what she'd said. He still didn't understand it. He didn't get what all she saw in him, and maybe he never would. "You're leagues better than I thought you were that day, and I thought you were extremely beautiful and funny and interesting, so I'm maybe still a little confused. But the difference between me now and me back then is that I'm willing to just…trust you on this. For now."

"For now?" She arched an eyebrow, amused.

"For now. Yes. Because at the moment, I really want to do this and I don't want to spend too much time over-analyzing it…"

"Do what?"

He decided to show her for once, closing the distance and kissing her. He slipped his hand around her upper bicep and pulled her in even more. He felt her smile against his lips, and then her arms slowly slid around his shoulders.

She slipped her fingers into his hair, letting out a soft sigh, and Chuck rounded her hips with his own arms, tugging her even closer.

Sarah squeaked then, jerking forward, having to catch herself against the counter as he practically pulled her off of the stool. He broke the kiss in concern.

"Sorry!"

She laughed, standing up. "This feels safer."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I, um, I lost a sense of where we were for a second."

Still giggling, she stepped in closer and he turned to face her better. As she sidled up between his legs, she propped her elbows on his shoulders and draped her forearms about his neck, leaning down to continue kissing him.

Chuck hummed against her lips and wrapped her up in his arms, tilting his head back to give her better access.

She accepted the invitation and leaned her weight against him, letting him hold her up as she kissed him even harder, and then her fingers went into his hair again and he felt a shock of desire blast through him when she gave a little tug on his curls.

He moved his hands to her hips, and almost as if she'd read his mind, she crawled onto his lap, straddling him on the stool, tightening her hold on him, her thighs squeezing his waist.

It was the soft whimper a half minute later, the way he felt her body shiver against his, that made something deep inside of him switch on. A trigger. And he stood up, slipping his hands under her thighs, keeping her close as he continued to kiss her.

He turned towards the counter as she clung to him tighter, gasping in surprise as he poised her on the edge of said counter and pinned her there.

Chuck felt her smile against his lips, their teeth knocking a bit, but he didn't slow down for anything, slipping a hand to the small of her back and tugging her hips in close, their fronts grinding.

Sarah broke the kiss and gasped out a whimper, and he felt her hands grapple down his back, twisting in his shirt and pulling at it as if she was trying to get it off of him.

Oh dear God, he thought. Please let it be now. Please let this be it.

His body tensed, waking up in every possible way, as he felt her cool hands slip under his shirt and press against his bare skin at his waist, her fingers stroking along his hip bones that jutted up from the waistband of his pants.

He whimpered and tugged her into him again, thrusting lightly as her tongue licked against his.

Chuck figured this might be what it felt like when someone was losing their mind. He didn't give a fuck about literally anything else but feeling this woman. In every possible way. And making sure she felt him.

She seemed to be getting a tad bit impatient with his shirt, though, tugging at it, so let go of her and grabbed it, starting to tug it himself, meaning to get rid of it entirely, not caring if he had to literally tear it off to get it out of the way.

But then he heard a distant sound.

Was it a knock?

Somewhere?

Did something fall?

Was it another wrench? A rock this time?

Shit…

They pulled back at the same time, both of them gasping, their purple-hued eyes meeting, the heat still crackling in the air between them.

Sarah groaned quietly and he agreed with the sentiment entirely, pulling his hands away, stepping back from her so that her thighs loosened around him, her legs falling away. He took her by her hips and let her slip down from the counter with his help.

And they continued to stand close to one another.

Chuck finally blushed then, realizing how close he'd just come to taking her, having her, right here on the countertop of her kitchen.

"Uh, I-I think someone…is at your door. Maybe," he said breathlessly, still painting a little.

"Mhm," she squeaked, nodding quickly. "I'll just go…and get that."

"Yeah. Right."

"Yep." She gestured shakily to him, their hips still brushing, Chuck still standing so close to her. "I'm just gonna squeeze…by here…'scuse me, I just—"

"Yes. Sorry. Right." He stepped back and to the side to give her room. "Should I go…with…or?" He scratched the back of his head. "Just in case."

"Um. Sure. B-But your shirt…is…"

The knock sounded again.

He looked down, his shirt was very mussed, and it was apparent that it was mussed from hands pulling it up his torso. "Yes, I'll…take care of this…first."

"Okay." And yet another knock. "I'm coming!" she barked over her shoulder. "Fuck!" She hissed quieter as she stomped out of the kitchen altogether, slamming her hand against the swinging door and disappearing through it.

He wondered if whoever was knocking might die tonight for interrupting.

Would he help her bury the body? …Yes, he thought he would.

Fixing his shirt, he finally wandered out into the main shop, straightening himself a little, wondering if his lips were swollen. He'd checked between his legs just to make sure that wasn't going to be a problem. Thankfully, it wasn't a noticeable problem to anyone but himself. God, he squirmed a bit at how tight his pants felt.

"And who is th—Oh. It's the Buy More Nerd GERD."

Chuck blinked at the contractor. "Did you just…call me heartburn?"

"Heh. Yup."

"What are you doing here this late?" Sarah interrupted, making the burly man's smirk dim as he got serious all of a sudden. "Besides insulting my f-friend, I mean," she added. And Chuck heard the slight pause before friend. After what they'd just been doing? He got it.

"I, uh, was getting ice cream." He gestured with his thumb towards the ice cream shop a few doors down. "Saw the light was on, thought I'd check in and make sure nothin' was wrong." He cleared his throat. "Seems somethin's wrong." He pointed at the hole in the glass, the tarp strung over it. "The hell happened?"

"Some…punk kids threw a wrench through the window. I just cleaned it up, Chuck helped me out, no big deal. Have a guy coming tomorrow to fix the window."

"A guy? What guy?" Casey asked. "You getting some guy to come fix your window without runnin' him by me? I'm your contractor."

Chuck took a few steps closer, ready to hand the guy his ass for the tone, but Sarah cut in instead.

"And this is my shop, Mr. Casey. I'm the one cutting the checks. So if I want Mr. Kellogg from Kellogg's Windows to come by tomorrow and quickly fix this window for me, that's what I'm going to do."

The contractor blinked, pulling his chin back. Chuck thought he saw respect cross the other man's features for a moment, and then he cleared his throat and grunted. "Well… fine. I guess. But we could'a fixed it."

"It's fine. You have work you need to focus on and I'd prefer you do that rather than fixing this stupid window."

Casey nodded, then, turning to glance at the window. "You see the kids who did it?"

She shook her head. "Um, maybe the car they drove off in, but—"

"What'd it look like? Make? Model? Year? Color?"

Sarah turned to exchange a weirded out look with Chuck, and he just shrugged back at her. "Um…I couldn't quite catch it, I guess. It was a darker colored car, maybe an older car, mid-2000s. A coup? I dunno, I was a little…shaken up."

"You see anything strange besides that? Since then, I mean?"

Chuck didn't know why he decided to keep the lone car he'd seen parked in the lot when he was taking the trash out to himself. But he still hadn't told Sarah, either. And anyways, why did this contractor want to know? That was weird.

"Nothing, no." Sarah shook her head.

"I saw a man in a Santa hat drinking a smoothie at a bus stop when I was driving here earlier, and it's barely October…" Casey glared as Sarah sent him an amused look, a glint in her eye. "Never mind. That wasn't what you meant."

"Yeah well…keep your eyes peeled, huh? And watch your step," Casey said, looking at both of them. "If you think things are funny, I wanna know." He grumbled low in his throat. "Don't want to be sending my guys here to do work without 'em getting a heads up if any weird, dangerous shit is going down. Doesn't matter how much you pay us."

Chuck frowned. "You'd just…ditch out on the job like that?"

"Nope. But we still wanna know if we should be looking over our shoulders when we come here to work." He grunted and walked further into the shop, trudging right past Chuck towards the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked. "It's too late for you to be doing work." She rushed after him and Chuck turned on his heel to follow her.

"I'm not doing work. I'm just checking to…" He paused as he got into the kitchen, and they all knew exactly what made him pause. There was still a candle burning, the lighting a bit low… To anyone with half a brain, it was obvious what had been happening, maybe not the details of it, before Casey had interrupted. And with just the two of them here alone? This late?

Chuck tried hard not to blush.

"Just want to do a bit of a check, make sure I didn't leave my, uh…toolbox. Here." The contractor made his rounds through the kitchen. His fingers idly dragged under the lips of the countertop as he walked, looking around the room. "Don't see it, though. Maybe I left it at the office."

"There's been no other toolbox here except for mine all day," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"Right, checks out. Okay, I'll get out of your hair," he said, his voice saccharine. He stopped at the kitchen entrance and pointed at them both. "Make sure you watch each other get back to your cars, you hear me? No telling what maniacs are out here. LA. Liberal heathens."

And then he was gone. Chuck heard the front door slam and he turned to look at Sarah as she slowly shifted to face him, a frustrated look on her face.

"He seems like a happy person."

She raised her eyebrows.

"A real ray of sunshine. I like that about him."

Giggling, she shook her head and walked back out to the front. He followed and watched as she locked the door. He could feel the mood had deflated, even though that spark was still there.

He could honestly strangle the contractor for interrupting when he did. Granted, the guy would murder him. Easily.

But still.

"Think he seemed a little butthurt about you not having him fix the window," Chuck said then, interrupting the slightly uncomfortable silence as she just peered at him with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, maybe. Although, I don't know. He seemed…strange. Like, what the hell does he care past what his job requires him to care about? The work he's being paid for."

Chuck shrugged. "Maybe they're just super thorough over there. Or he's possessive about his clients."

She smirked at him and he shrugged again.

"That right there is definitely a difference between us in philosophy. Here I am suspicious, wondering what he's doing checking in on the shop the same night a wrench was thrown through the window." She paused. "And you swoop in with your unwavering trust in people."

"Now hold on." He chuckled, holding up a hand. "I didn't say I have unwavering trust in him. The guy's a jerk to me every time he sees me." Something occurred to him then and he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Come to think of it, he kind of…looks at me funny."

"Looks at you funny how?" she giggled.

He tried to replicate it and she laughed harder. "I can't do it. I just get that feeling like someone's watching me and I look over my shoulder and it's him. Then he grunts and goes back to work."

"That's…kind of weird."

"It is. Yes."

"So we're agreeing that John Casey the contractor is weird?"

"We're agreeing on that, yes."

"Can we also agree that he was a seriously unnecessary addition to this arrangement of ours?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow and ducking her chin so she was looking at him through her eyelashes.

"Seriously so unnecessary."

She giggled, closing the distance between them. "And for the record, you don't give me heartburn."

Chuck laughed, crossing his arms. "Oh, that's good news. It would be really hard for me to convince you to give me a second date if I gave you heartburn."

"I could just take an antacid," she said with a shrug.

He laughed again, so damn glad he'd somehow lucked out into being at the Nerd Herd desk when she first walked up to it with her phone. She was funny and cute and insanely beautiful. And talented, to boot.

"I'm worth having to eat antacids like they're going out of style?"

"So far," she flirted, straightening his shirt for him. She smirked. "Hey, want to be my taste tester for something?"

"Oh fuck yes."

She cracked up at how immediate and intense his response was, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the kitchen.

$...$

Sarah clamped her lips between her teeth and watched as Chuck hopped down off of the counter, still licking his fingers of the chocolate that had melted on them.

"How do you continue to make the best chocolate I've ever eaten in my life? The flavors hit my tongue in STAGES, Sarah. That's insane!"

She giggled, crossing her legs where she was perched, still on the counter. "Thanks. So you think I should put these out?" She shook the container she'd brought them in.

"You'll sell out on day 1. Easy." His eyes drifted down to the container innocently and she smirked, thrusting it towards him. "Yesssss!" He took another and took a luxurious bite out of it, doing an adorable, kid-like dance stomping his feet and pumping his fists. "Ohmuhgah'sogud," he mumbled around the chocolate. "I've always loved chocolate, I have to say, but I feel like hanging around with you is going to make me a chocolate connoisseur and I'm not mad about it at all."

"Neither am I," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I could use a taste tester around here."

He thrust his hand up straight into the air over his head. "Me. Can it be me? I'd like to do this for you."

Sarah laughed and reached over to tug his shirt teasingly. "S'not gonna be anybody else. I've got a realtor, some contractors, you, and…that's about it."

"You haven't met anyone else yet?"

"When have I had time?" she asked with a shrug. "I'll find people eventually I'm sure. It isn't my priority now. This place is my priority."

Chuck nodded, thoughtfully. And she watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. She'd felt those lips on hers. She'd tasted that tongue. And she'd felt the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen, waist, and back under her fingers. His curls in her hand. And how incredibly good it felt to have her lower half pressed hard into his.

They'd been so close.

If Casey hadn't intruded with his weird timing, showing up this late at night to "check on things" when he saw the light on, Sarah was 90% sure she and Chuck would have christened the kitchen.

And that thought sent a heat through her so intense she wasn't exactly prepared for it. She was pretty sure that wasn't happening again now. Casey had ruined it, the fucking asshole.

There was this strength and gentleness, this want and need, desire flooding off of Chuck as he held her against the counter and kissed her, cradled her tightly.

She still wanted him, even as he kept doing that adorable stupid dance of his as he finished the piece of chocolate. And she distracted herself by shakily breathing out a, "I'm thinking I might put a tiny rose on top. I have little candy ones I've made. I just keep them all the time pretty much so that I can toss them on chocolates to make them look…I dunno, fancy."

"You should just make this into bars. I would eat this as a bar. I'd eat like 3 bars in one sitting."

Snorting, she raised her eyebrows. "Well okay. Noted. Maybe I will do bars for this one."

"Wait, are you…actually going to listen to me? Sarah, I don't know shit about any of this."

She giggled. "Maybe not, but you're a good gauge of how a typical customer might feel about my creations, so this is very helpful. If you want it in bar form, other customers probably will too."

"Huh. That's sound logic."

She squirmed a little and took a deep breath, before words just spilled out. "Do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow? Like actually going somewhere for dinner? For a date I mean. Not this cancelled raincheck mess I forced on us because I was so shaken up by the wrench incident."

His brown eyes softened and he gave her a warm, crooked smile. "I would love to." A spark of excitement lit his face, glee, and then he was able to get himself in check. "I mean, yeah. Yes. Sure. Dinner sounds good."

"Sounds like a yes?"

"Definitely."

Feeling a thread of shyness go through her, she tilted her body a little and pulled her shoulders up to her ears. "Okay. Great." She nibbled on her bottom lip. "I might know where I want to take you. Can you meet me at my apartment tomorrow at, like…6?"

"6. Yes. Definitely."

"Okay."

She didn't have a place. She intended to call her realtor and ask her. She'd make it work. Because they were going to go on a real date tomorrow. No rainchecks. No wrenches thrown through windows. No cryptic notes threatening her over her dad's transgressions.

Just her and Chuck enjoying dinner out together.

And in the meantime, she could figure out what to do about her father's shit and the fact that he still hadn't called her back, even when her safety was potentially on the line.

Making out with Chuck had pushed all of that to the back of her mind and now it was here in the forefront again, damn it. She felt ridiculous as she slipped off of the counter and stepped into Chuck's body, rounding his shoulders with her arms and just hugging him, burying her face in his shoulder.

He hugged her back immediately, wrapping her up in his embrace and holding her tight. Cradling her even. She felt the tension flow out of her and she took a deep, calming breath.

She hadn't meant to seek comfort from him. This wasn't what she wanted this to be. He was her friend, and they were exploring the potential of being more than that…maybe. But she didn't want to run to him whenever she had daddy issues. She didn't want him to become her one way safety blanket.

He deserved better than that.

But God he felt so good holding her like this.

And the comforting quiet he was allowing to exist in this moment, content with just holding her and not saying anything.

"Sarah, are you okay?"

Of course that didn't last long.

She couldn't be mad at him for it. She'd just randomly walked up to him and was clinging to him now like he was the last life vest on a sinking ship. "I'm okay," she said, holding him harder.

"Are you sure? Because it's…okay to…not be okay. Nobody could blame you for that. And I'll just be right here with you until you feel like you…er, feel okay. If that makes sense. I'm tryin' to say I'm here for you, however you need me to be."

Sarah's eyes slipped shut and she just focused on the places where he was touching her body, each fingertip scorching against her body, filling her with warmth. His cheek against her hair.

"Thank you, Chuck. I guess I'm still a bit jumpy."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better…Casey didn't seem all that concerned about the wrench through the window. And he seems like the exact type of guy who'd know all about…I dunno, nefarious shit."

That made her laugh and she let all of her weight fall against him so that he was holding her up. He didn't seem to mind it at all. "He really does. And I bet you're right. Thanks."

"Sure."

She finally pulled back and glanced at her watch. God it was so late, or rather early. Nearing 2 am."Ugh, I have to meet with a marketing guy in the morning."

"Ah. Yes. Right. Night's over, huh?" He glanced at his own watch. And then he did a double take almost like a cartoon character. "Holy shit, how'd it get to be 1:48 in the morning?"

"I have 1:49, personally."

Chuck snorted. "We should definitely call it a night, whether it's 1:48 or 1:49. So that you can be as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as possible for your marketing meeting."

"And you need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed too, don't you? For work?"

"What, that place? I could do it in my sleep." There was a tinge of almost bitterness in his face as he said it, a slump to his shoulders again, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

"But, um, yeah…" He looked a little ashamed for being so negative for a moment, shuffling his feet. "Yeah, I should be at least alert. And professional."

She smiled quietly at him.

And then as if of one mind, they both moved around the kitchen to clean things up, and he helped her pack up the chocolates in a more orderly fashion. She decided maybe Casey and his workers could use a little incentive to work faster and chocolate might do the trick.

By the time they wandered out to their cars, Sarah locking up as he waited beside her, keeping his eyes on the parking lot like a tall, nerdy sentinel, it was closing in on 2:30.

She wasn't tired at all. She just felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to climb into her car and drive away from him. Even if she would see him tomorrow.

She turned to face him then, backing towards her car, and she snagged his wrist, pulling him with her. "I should thank you, Chuck…"

He raised his eyebrows. "For what?"

"Not letting my…behavior today throw you off."

"There was nothing wrong with your behavior, Sarah," he said immediately, shaking his head. They got to her car and she leaned against the driver's side, peering up at him as he stepped in close, cupping her shoulder. "Still, I'm glad you asked me to come tonight."

"Only because you called to check up on me, which was very sweet."

"You seemed shaken up and I could tell you wanted to be alone, but I still wanted to…make sure you were okay. That's what you do when you care about somebody," he shrugged.

"That's what YOU do when you care about somebody, Chuck. Not everybody is like you. If we were, maybe this planet would be in a lot better shape." She reached up to smooth her hand down his chest. Speaking of good shape, she really wanted him to use his strong arms to hoist her up against her car and finish what he'd started in the kitchen before stupid John Casey slammed his meaty fist against the door of the shop.

Or maybe inside the car was better. Less public.

But he didn't and wouldn't.

So she'd have to wait.

And instead she curled her fingers around his waist and gently pulled him up against her, pushing off of the car to stand at her full height and leaning her head back to give him access as he leaned down to kiss her.

She hummed in reluctance when he pulled back a minute later.

But then he leaned down even further and hugged her tight. She clung back, turning her face into his neck and taking a deep breath. "Seriously, Chuck. Thank you for the company. Thank you for coming. I didn't realize I needed it until you called and I heard your voice again."

She felt him smile against her hair and it made her heart thud loudly in her chest.

"You're welcome. Thanks for giving me another chance tonight. I know it isn't what you normally would have done, that you probably would've dealt with all of this crap alone, so I know what it meant for you to change your mind. I'm glad you did."

"Me, too," she said quietly. She really was so glad she did. She'd needed this. Her nerves were frayed. And her dad was failing as a father yet again.

When they broke out of the hug, Chuck pressed a kiss to her cheek. It was so intimate and sweet that she decided to let that be the last thing before she got into her car.

"Drive safe," he said as she stepped out of his embrace and unlocked her car to get in.

"You, too."

She climbed into her car and locked herself inside, watching as he walked over to the Nerd Herd car that was parked a few spots away. Maybe she was just projecting, but she thought he had a little skip in his step. It made her smile, watching him unlock the car, open the door, and swing in behind the wheel, the way he had to fold his long legs up to fit inside.

Sarah left the lot first, and she thought maybe Chuck was taking Casey's warning seriously, meaning to sit there in his car and watch until she left this place before he did the same. Looking out for her.

It filled her with warmth even if it was a little silly.

And it made her feel less hopeless about the note that had accompanied the wrench that had been thrown into her chocolate shop. Maybe her dad wouldn't come through, but when push came to shove, she at least had somebody who might. If she told him. She wasn't telling him. She couldn't tell him.

Not yet, anyway.

She wanted to keep him at arm's length, at least with that part of her life. Not just because she was afraid he'd think she was too much trouble, too dangerous, to be around. But because she felt a soul-deep need to protect this man, from everything, but especially from her, and the baggage she brought with her. The potential danger of her father being…who he was.

Sarah drove home not knowing how to feel, except that she knew she had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and keep her eyes peeled.

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