Champagne Dreams & Chocolate Kisses

By Leigh McKnight

This is a book of short, romantic stories about smart, sexy, beautiful women who go after what they want.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leigh McKnight
• Release date: Sep 22, 2011

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Champagne Dreams and Chocolate Kisses

5 Short Romantic Stories

Leigh McKnight

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2002 Minnie Dix

Published by Morris Publishing

1-800-650-7888

3212 Easr Highway 30, Kearney, NE 68847

Champagne Dreams and Chocolate Kisses. Copyright @ 2002 Minnie Dix. All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system without permission in writing from the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be included in a review.

All characters, names, descriptions or traits are products of the author's imagination. Similarities to actual people--living or dead-- are purely coincidental.

0-9725965-0-X

Cover design by: Tigerron Wells

Champagne Dreams and Chocolate Kisses

Monica Sinclair wasn’t sure when her feelings for her incredibly handsome long time acquaintance, Kerry Webster, changed from friendship to love. All she knew, for certain, was that her feelings had changed. Could it have been one cold, rainy night when she was alone in her two bedroom condo and couldn’t stop thinking about him? Perhaps it had been one day when she looked at him and everything about him had changed. Had Kerry really changed? Had he suddenly become a different man? It was hard to tell when Monica’s feelings changed, but she did know that her feelings for Kerry now were stronger than mere friendship—much stronger.

The two had met in church several years ago, they began hanging out together and had quickly become friends. Monica was a nurse, and she loved her chosen career, however, poetry was her passion. In her spare time, she wrote poetry that she recited every Thursday at open-mic night at one of the local bookstores.

Kerry supported Monica faithfully. He attended many of her readings, applauded her spiritedly and afterward, they’d go out for dinner and dancing, or even drinks. Sometimes they would simply settle for a quiet dinner at her home, and ending their enjoyable evening, he’d kiss her warmly on the forehead—the kind of kiss one gave a sister or a friend. Only, Monica wanted more. She always wanted more. She longed for Kerry to take her into his strong, masculine arms, gently caress her body with his and kiss her long and passionately until she felt her head swim and the earth tremble under her feet. There were evenings she spent alone when she would lie in bed, closed her eyes and let herself dare to dream of the possibilities that would open up if she and Kerry would decide to take their relationship to the next level.

One evening after she had recited her poetry at open-mic night, they had dinner at Burgandy’s, one of their favorite restaurants. Later, Kerry drove Monica home. He slowly walked her up to her condo.

Woman, you are so damn fine, he said, admiring the way the off-white dress she was wearing stopped mid-calf and clung to her five-foot-eight, shapely body. The dress looked so good against her caramel skin.

Oh please, you are always one to flatter, she replied.

But Kerry had meant every word he had said. He appreciated the way Monica looked; her dreamy dark eyes surrounded by long thick lashes and generous lips that curled into a breathtakingly beautiful smile over pearly white teeth. Just as he appreciated her beauty, he knew other men did as well. It was obvious by the way they would check her out all the time, even when they entered a restaurant and she moved with grace as if she were gliding across the room. Men even gazed at her while she and Kerry were having dinner. They couldn’t seem to take their eyes off her. She was the center of attention wherever she went. That much Kerry didn’t appreciate.

I’m serious as a heart attack, he said and the admiration in his eyes warmed her heart, but before she could reply, he continued, and this has nothing to do with flattery. You are wearing the hell out of that dress tonight, baby. You look absolutely amazing. But, you already know that, don’t you? He smiled and added, You have to. I mean how can you not know?

Wow! But, no. Shaking her head, she smiled up at him, with huge dimples indenting her lovely cheeks, Monica added, not really, but thanks. You’re not looking too shabby yourself, Mr. Webster.

Yeah, and I bet you say that to all the guys.

All what guys? The dark eyed woman glanced at Kerry and continued to smile. I wish.

He grinned back at her as they approached her door.

Aren’t you coming in for a while? Have a night cap, perhaps? she asked, walking a little ahead, but looking over her shoulder at him in a flirtatious manner.

Kerry hesitated a moment.

Monica turned and waited for him. Aaah, come on, she urged, tugging his arm. I’m not biting tonight unless you want me to, she teased, as she large almond shaped chestnut eyes sparkled with mischief from a face that was exquisitely beautiful, right down to her narrowly shaped nose and pouty lusious lips.

Yeah, sure. That’s what they all say, he teased back. What Monica didn’t know was that he wanted to spend all his time with her. But, believing she only wanted friendship, he opted not to do anything to drive her away.

I promise I’ll kick you out before daylight, she taunted him.

Well, all right, he agreed, following her into the condo.

Monica closed the door behind them. What can I get you? she asked, releasing his arms.

I’m fine. He walked with her into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Monica turned on the CD player and slow, soulful music began to flow, filling the room with wonderful sounds. Then, she joined Kerry on the couch. So, how was your day? she asked and waited for his response.

Kerry Webster was the owner of Magic Web’s Jazz Club and although he loved the business he was in and was good at generating enormous interest so that his club was almost always packed, he said most days were hectic. Kerry had always prided himself in hiring young people who had difficulty finding good paying jobs, but time and time again, it had been proven that that wasn’t always the best route to take. It was one of those run of the mill days; lots of employees reporting late for work, with some of them claiming illnesses, some legit while others are so obviously bogus that you can smell them a mile away.

Kerry, you have to remember you can’t save the world.

That’s what I keep telling myself.

Kerry and Monica chuckled.

I understand your plight, she told him. Her job was hectic as well but on a different level.

I loved your poetry this evening, he complimented enthusiastically.

You did? Really? Her eyebrows raised. Kerry had always complimented her after a reading, but this time his praise appeared more spirited.

Don’t be so surprised. It was really good, but different from your usual stuff, he acknowledged.

You picked that up, huh? Monica was surprised he’d noticed that her poetry had changed. The words were coming from a different place now, a deeper place, and she had wondered whether he could see her evolution.

Yeah, he replied, honestly.

Delighted, as Kerry’s opinion had always been important to her, Monica said, So you have been listening to me. I thought you have been hanging out with me to check out the other ladies kicking their spoken words.

Yes, I have been listening to the other ladies making their mark, but I go to all these bookstores, every Thursday night, because of you, he replied and the brightness of honesty in his eyes was soon replaced by a glint of pure mischief. I could say that I go for their fabulous coffee.

They chuckled but after considering a moment, Monica turned to look at him. You really think my poetry is good?

You’re not searching for more compliments, are you?

Perhaps, she said shyly. But, I really do want to know…the truth.

I think your work is great—wonderful in fact. I think you’re a budding Maya Angelou.

She burst out laughing. Then, she looked away from him. Yeah, right.

Seriously.

Oh, you. She punched him in the arm. Monica had to admit she was shocked by such a comparison, yet flattered at the same time.

You have a remarkable talent, baby, and I’m really proud of you.

Pleased, her head cocked to the side, Monica looked at Kerry again and said, Thanks. She bowed at the waist from where she sat on the couch. Thank you very much.

Kerry settled back in the chair. What’s the word on finding an agent? he asked, aware that for several months his friend had been on an unrelenting search to find someone to represent her work.

Nothing has changed. Three more rejections this week, she replied sadly. To tell you the truth, Kerry, it’s as though either the agents are communicating with each other, or the same person is answering the correspondence for all the agents. ‘We are sorry to inform you that we do not accept unsolicited work’ or what about this one, ‘We received the material you submitted and we do not feel we can successfully market your work in its present form,’ something like that. Monica sighed and gave a little laugh; still Kerry could hear the deep disappointment in her voice.

Come here, he said, wrapping his arms around Monica and pulling her close to him. It’ll happen, baby. You just have to be patient. He kissed her on her cheek. Just give it some time. It’ll happen.

You know, Kerry, I know what I want. I always have, but sometimes I feel helpless trying to get it. She turned her head and staring into his dark brown eyes that were flushed with thick lashes, she confessed, I hate feeling helpless.

Helpless isn’t usually the word that comes to mind when I think of you, Monica.

Uh huh, she said nonchalantly.

No, really. You’re good. There is no question about that, so don’t be so hard on yourself. Just give it a little time. It’s gonna happen for you. You’ll see.

Feeling encouraged by his words, she rubbed her cheek against his chest, close enough to inhale the faint smell of his expensive cologne. Nice. Very nice, she thought. She said, Me and my champagne dreams.

Don’t forget the chocolate kisses.

Yes, champagne dreams and chocolate kisses, she said, a little above a whisper.

Nestling closely in the comfort of his arms and staring off into space, Monica fell silent. Kerry noticed. What’s going on? he asked.

What? She turned a questioning look on him.

You seem a million miles away.

That far, huh? Monica sat up, a little annoyed that her literary career wasn’t materializing as quickly as she’d envisioned.

Kerry stretched an arm along the back of the couch behind Monica and the other on the arm of the chair. Cheer up, girl. Kerry is here. He smiled, showing beautiful white teeth.

She smiled. Kicking off her shoes, she began massaging her feet. Sitting silently for a moment, Kerry observed Monica. Then he got up from the couch. He stood a moment, looking down at her. Tall, dark and handsome in an expensively tailored suit, Kerry dropped to his knees in front of her. Here, he said, removing her hands from her feet. Let me do that.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. You’re going to massage me feet? Kerry had never massaged her feet before. This was a first, but there was a first time for everything, and she certainly wasn’t going to refuse the offer.

If you don’t object.

Are you kidding me? Absolutely not. Monica extended her feet and settled back in the chair. Bring it on, brotha.

You are going to love this, he promised.

I’m sure that I will, she cooed, her eyes nearly closed now.

Kerry noticed her toenails were painted the same shade of bronze as her neatly manicured fingernails. He slowly wrapped his hands around her petite foot and began to massage it. He quickly withdrew his hands in a playful gesture.

Monica’s eyes popped opened. What’s wrong? Why did you stop?

"Your feet don’t stink, do