A Slice of Chocolate Pecan

This story is submitted as part of the 2025 Valentine's Day Contest.

Author's note: Almost forgot, just a heads up to save people some time. This story is purely romance with basically no erotic parts :/. Sorry! It was just meant as a sweet little short story, I really hope you guys enjoy.

© 2025 by crazyness1

VALENTINES DAY 2025

Ch 1.

I sat in a booth at the beachfront diner, in Galveston, Texas, overlooking the murky grey water of the Gulf of Mexico. I checked my watch for the third time in the last five minutes. The second hand dragged itself forward, stretching each moment like taffy. 12:45 PM. Susie, the buxom blonde I had met on a dating app a few months ago, was late. Again. She was supposed to have been here at eleven thirty for lunch.

I sighed and leaned back in the squeaky diner booth, pushing my half-empty glass of water aside. The condensation had pooled on the table, leaving behind a small, wet ring that I traced with my finger absentmindedly. It was Valentine's Day, and once again, I found myself sitting alone, staring at the red and pink decorations strung up across the diner like some cruel joke. A paper heart hung lopsided over the jukebox, the edges curling slightly under the globe lights. It felt like a metaphor for my love life.

Five different dates. Five no-shows. Always on Valentine's. Always at the same diner. Maybe it was a curse. Maybe I should have gotten the hint after the second one, but optimism can be a stubborn thing. With Suzie, it had started off so promising. They always did. She was a bombshell—charming, flirty, and she knew just how to push my buttons. We had fun, all of them did. Drinks flowed easily, laughter even easier. I always picked up the check, no questions asked. It felt good to treat them, to see them smile, even if deep down, I wondered if they were more there for the free meal than for me. Invariably, they'd all stand me up on Valentines. Sometimes with a text. Sometimes nothing.

My buddy Greg always told me I was too nice for my own good, and maybe he was right. Or maybe I was just a fool who believed in the whole Valentine's magic nonsense.

I sighed again, this time louder, hoping it would somehow expel the creeping disappointment settling in my chest. Louise, the middle-aged waitress with tired eyes and a heart-shaped pin on her uniform, glanced over at me with a sympathetic smile.

"Another no-show?" she asked, her voice soft, carrying the weight of too much experience in these kinds of situations.

I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Looks that way. Maybe she's just running late."

"Yup, could be." She said, though she looked doubtful. "You want some pie while you wait, hon? On the house. Best chocolate pecan in the state."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Thanks Lou, I appreciate it, but she's probably not coming. No point taking up another booth, for another hour, waiting for something that's not showing." I stood up and grabbed my coat. "Maybe love's just not in the cards for me."

"You'll find someone, just gotta give it some more time. Plenty of fish out there. " She placed a hand on my shoulder. "If you change your mind about that pie, we'll keep an extra one waiting for you in case you come back."

A couple waved their hands for a check. She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, before walking off towards the next booth.

I sighed, shaking my head, and muttered to myself, "Happy Valentine's Day to me."

Ch 2.

I put on my coat and stepped outside, the brisk winter air cool against my face, my coat flapping in the wind. I got into my 2005 Toyota Tacoma. Turning on the truck, I warmed myself as I ponder what to do next. I didn't feel like going home and being by myself just yet. I decided to head to the Barnes & Noble at the River Oaks Shopping Center. A book sounded like the perfect way to end an otherwise disappointing day and a bookstore seemed like a great way to avoid the never ending crowds of happy couples.

As I pulled into the Barnes & Noble, my heart sank. The parking lot was nearly full, and it was painfully clear that some kind of event is going on. A steady stream of people filtered through the well-lit entrance, their laughter and chatter spilling into the air. I spotted a minivan about to leave and waited patiently for the spot, signaling my intent. Just as they pulled out, a sleek silver Mercedes swooped in from the other side and took the spot before I could react. Angrily, I honked my horn, but the driver, some asshole dressed like 'Corporate America', got out and, without looking at me, waved dismissively at me as he locked his car and headed inside. I idled there, seething, genuinely debating plowing my piece of shit truck into his fancy ride. Finally, taking a deep breath, I decided that spending the next ten years of my life paying off some douchebag's car repair bill was definitely not worth five minutes of gratification. Annoyed, I gripped the wheel tighter and circled the lot, searching for another spot. I finally found one tucked in the far corner, wedged between a giant SUV and a cart return.

As I got in, I was greeted by the smell of new books and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. There was a book reading and some author meet and greet going on. Something about Valentine's and some up-and-coming romance authors. Ignoring the people, I made my way to the fiction aisle, spotting the novel I had had my eyes on for a while: "Behind the Garden Gate" by K. Z. Ness, one of my favorite authors. It was one of his latest works, a piece on BDSM that, according to critics at the New York Times, was supposed to be a real page turner. Quite a change from his usual romance genre.

I looked around for a place to sit and was irritated to discover all of the cushy armchairs had been taken and most of the tables as well. Only one last place, a tiny one person table by the small coffee shop, was available. I squeezed into the small space and tried to get comfortable. I had just cracked the book open when I heard someone behind me.

"That's a great choice," said a husky, cheerful voice.

Ch 3.

Startled, I snapped the book closed. Embarrassed to be caught reading erotica in public, I turned to see who the voice belonged to, my neck turning red. I turned to see a barista from the café, a woman in her late twenties with purple and white streaks in her hair, which was styled carelessly in a punk fashion. A nose ring gleamed under the warm lighting, and two earrings adorned her left ear. She wore an apron over her white shirt and jeans, holding a steaming cup in one hand and a dish towel in the other. Despite her somewhat outlandish appearance, she was quite pretty. Way prettier than Suzie or any of my other previous dates. She had a button nose, large brownish grey eyes, and pixieish features. She was clearly out of my league.

"It's just something, I saw. I don't know what it's about." I lied, my ears slightly pink. Thankfully the cover art was just of a literal gate and not some passionate sex scene, making my lie slightly believable.

"It's really good. It has lots of bondage and submission, if you're into that." She continued clearly not embarrassed at all, herself. "I prefer his other works, the more romance based ones, but this one is really hot as well."

I stared at her, caught off guard by her candid attitude. I had spent my whole life pretending to be the picture of mainstream normalcy around women, always hiding the quirks that made me, well, me. But here she was—completely unapologetic and unashamed of her interests. It was... refreshing. For once, I decided to throw caution to the wind and be true to myself.

"Actually, I did know what the story was about, I just didn't want to admit it." I said with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, a rich, throaty sound that bubbled up effortlessly, carrying a hint of mischief and warmth. It wasn't the polite, restrained kind you'd expect-- there was a slight rasp to it, a musical quality that lingered in the air, inviting and unapologetically real.

"Yeah, I figured. I've worked here for two years and I've never seen a dude buy a book like that without knowing what he was getting." She chuckled.

"Yea, I guess I could've been a tad bit less obvious." I said, scratching my neck.

"Lizzie." She said, putting out her hand.

I shook it firmly, her hands feeling small and soft in my own. "Matt."

"So Matt, what brings you to a bookstore on a freezing Valentine's Day? I take it you're not here for the book read." She said, nodding at the gathering of people in the center of the bookstore.

I scratched my neck again in embarrassment. "I was stood up by my date so I figured I'd just spend the rest of my day reading rather than wallowing in my apartment."

"Stood up on Valentine's? That's pretty cold." She said sympathetically. "Did they have a good reason though?"

I shrugged. "Nah, not even a text." I said, holding up my phone.

"Dayummm. That's cold." She said sympathetically.

"I'm used to it." I let out a small grin. "It's the fifth time I've been stood up on Valentine's, actually."

"No way? You've been stood up by the same girl on Valentine's five times in a row and you're still with them?" She said in disbelief.

I laughed. "No, no. Different girls."

"Oh. Hah." She let out a laugh, then covered her mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It just took me by surprise."

"Nah, you're good. It is kind of funny when you think about it."

She giggled. "Well, at least your taste in books is significantly better than your taste in women. Sounds like you can really pick 'em."

I grinned. "No kidding. It was always at the same diner too."

"Hmmm... did you ever consider maybe not going there?" She asked with a smirk. "You know, just a suggestion. Kind of seeing a pattern here."

"The thought never crossed my mind. They've got some great food."

"Which diner is it?"

"The Lighthouse Cafe down on East Beach Street."

"No way? I love that place! Well, I guess it wasn't the food then." She said, "Or your looks." She added looking me up and down.

"Huh?"

"You know, you look kind of cute. Like in a rugged Matt McConaughey way." She said earnestly, gazing intently at my face.

My ears turned pink. I'm not used to getting compliments from girls, especially not from ones as pretty as Lizzie.

Then with a smirk she added. "Maybe they saw that same giant 'Fuck You' look you had walking in here and got scared."

"Oh, you saw that?" I said with some chagrin.

She laughed good-naturedly. "Saw it? I felt it. You had that aura about you. Like Darth Vader about to slaughter some padawans."

I laughed in spite of myself. Funny, super cute, a Star Wars fan, and a possible bondage bunny? No way was this girl real. "Okay, that wasn't completely my fault. I was already having a bad day and some jerkwad in a silver Mercedes totally stole my parking space."

"Oh you mean David?".

"David?" I asked nonplussed.

"Yeah David, you know, slicked back hair, dressed like 'Corporate America', always comes in and orders a triple-shot espresso, no cream, no sugar, with some oatmilk, because he thinks it makes him seem sophisticated. He's always bragging about some trade he made and how he'd like to take me out for a spin. Dude's a total creep."

I grinned back at her. "You know, I was considering ramming his car just a few minutes ago."

"Oh yeah? What changed your mind?".

"My bank account."

She laughed, another genuine pealing laugh that made me feel warm inside.

"Lizzie!" Barked a voice from behind the cafe counter. "Restroom needs a cleanup! And we need some more help with the orders."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Matt."

I gave her a friendly wave as she headed back to the counter.

Ch 4.

I tried to return to my book but I couldn't concentrate. Unable to help myself, I kept sneaking glances at Lizzie as she worked. She moved with an effortless rhythm, working the complex espresso machine and scribbling down orders with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. Despite the chaos behind the counter, she still had that same easygoing smile, flashing it at customers and coworkers alike. Every now and then, she'd tuck a stray strand of purple-and-white hair behind her ear, her eyes scanning the café floor with a sharpness that told me she was more observant than she let on.

At one point, she caught me looking. Instead of looking away, she smirked and gave me a playful wink before returning to steaming milk for some guy in a tailored suit—probably another corporate drone looking for his caffeine fix. I smiled back at her-- her easygoing carefree spirit was just too damn infectious. I found my cheeks hurting from smiling more than I had in years.

What was wrong with me? I let out a sigh. She was so obviously out of my league and here I was staring at her like some lovesick puppy. I needed to clear my head. I stood up and put on my coat. Then I grabbed the novel and turned to go.

"Leaving already?" came her lilting voice again.

I turned to look at her. She stood there with a lopsided grin, looking at me with those sharp, playful eyes that seemed to see right through me.

"Actually I wanted to order something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Could I get a triple-shot espresso, no cream, no sugar, and a splash of oatmilk?" I said with a deadpan.

It took her a second, then she laughed. "Shut up. No way..."

I laughed, then mustering up my courage, I blurted out. "Actually, I was wondering if I could get a date with you?". My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for her reaction.

She paused as if pondering a response.

Cringing internally, I hurriedly added, "I don't know what came over me." I let out a nervous laugh. "Must be something in the air."

"No, no. I'd like that." she said.

I stared at her, unsure if she was putting me on. "You- you would?" I stammered out.

She smiled sweetly. "Sure. My shift's over in an hour if you don't mind waiting."

I nodded dumbly. "Sure. I'll just wait over..." I looked back to see that my table was now occupied by an elderly gentleman. "I guess I'll just stand over there." I point at a bookshelf.

She laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

Ch 5.

Three finally came. I had found another seat in one of the cushy armchairs by a fake fireplace. Lizzie came bounding up. She no longer had on an apron and instead was dressed in a black jacket and was holding two cups of coffee. She handed one to me.

"Here ya go. You looked like you needed a pick-me-up."

"Thanks." I said taking the cup.

She nodded towards the entrance. "Shall we?"

I nodded. I paid for my book and we headed outside, the wind enveloping us in a cold embrace. She gestured at the back. "You want to check out the pond?"

I actually wanted to head indoors as quickly as possible but I agreed anyway. We walked down a dirt path to the pond.

"In springtime I usually come out here and feed the ducks." she said conversationally as we walked around the pond's edge. "But I guess they've all flown south for winter."

"What, like bread?"

She shook her head. "Nah, bread's bad for them, something about their diet and feathers. We're supposed to feed them peeled, halved, seedless grapes."

I shook my head. "Those are the most bougie ass ducks I've ever heard of. Must be nice."

She laughed as I took a sip of the coffee.

The coffee was strong, black with no cream or sugar. I looked at her in surprise. "How'd you know I like my coffee black?"

She grinned. "Easy, I can usually guess most people's coffee preferences before they order. You seem like a very practical, no nonsense kind of guy, so I just figured."

"Okay, well mine was pretty easy. What about him?" I asked, pointing at a jogger.

"Well, he's more likely to order one of our lemonade refreshers or maybe an iced black coffee."

"What about her?" I pointed at a girl wearing fur boots and a down jacket.

She rolled her eyes. "Pumpkin spice latte."

"Hey, you're just going off stereotypes now."

She shrugged, taking a sip of her own coffee. "There's a reason why they exist."

I pointed at a mother wrangling two kids near the edge of the pond. "What about her?"

Lizzie studied the woman for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... Well, her kids look like they're in elementary school, so she's definitely got her hands full. She's probably running on fumes most days, but not the kind to go for straight espresso—too harsh. And she's dressed too well for a plain black coffee; comfort matters to her." She snapped her fingers. "Hazelnut coffee, with cream and sugar. Oh, and two pumps of vanilla—something sweet to take the edge off."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You got all that from a quick glance?"

She grinned. "It's a gift."

I inclined my head in respect. "Not bad."

"So what do you do for work?"

"I'm a realtor." Not to be outdone, I quickly added. "I can usually tell what type of house people own by just their appearance."

She snorted. "Right."

"Try me."

"Okay, do the last three people I just did."

"Easy. That jogger lives in a one bedroom apartment, that girl lives with three other girls in a condo by whatever college she attends, and the woman lives in a nice suburban house, probably a French Country house or an Eastlake." I said confidently, making up shit as I went.

"Uh-huh." she said unconvinced, taking another sip of coffee. "and what about me?"

I looked at her appraisingly. "Well, you're a barista."

"Well spotted." she said dryly.

"And 27...?"

"28."

"With a degree in liberal arts?"

"And dance."

"Well I'd say, in this economy, you're probably living in a shack under a bridge."

She snorted coffee out her nose. "Hey! Fuck you." she said, laughing as she choked on her coffee.

I grinned. "Just kidding."

"Well, you're not far off."

We had circled around the pond completely.

"So.. what now?" she asked.

"You down for some bowling?"

"Oh thank God. I thought you were going to suggest mini golf."

I chuckled. "That's next on the agenda."

Ch 6.

The bowling turned out to be great fun. Lizzie was surprisingly competitive, and I found myself enjoying the easy banter as much as the game itself. She had a unique approach to bowling—granny rolling the ball down the lane one frame, then launching it like she was in an action movie the next.

"You're just jealous of my technique," she teased after yet another wildly unpredictable throw that somehow resulted in a spare.

"Technique? The hell was that? That was pure luck." I laughed, shaking my head as I lined up my shot. "Watch and learn."

I rolled the ball with what I thought was precision, only to watch it veer off into the gutter. Lizzie burst out laughing, clutching the ball return for support.

"Wow. Clearly a master," she said sarcastically between giggles.

I watched her with a grin, caught somewhere between amusement and admiration. She was so effortlessly herself—no pretenses, no trying too hard. Just Lizzie. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I didn't have to try so hard either. I'd never felt this way about anyone before. She just got me.

After we had finished, it was so fun we decided to go again. This time we spent it trying to outdo each other on the wildest bowling techniques known to man and some unknown ones as well. A few more frames and after an epic loss on my part, we flopped down in the worn-out plastic chairs, nursing the last of our sodas.

"So... minigolf now?" I teased her.

"Helll nah." she said as we headed out of the bowling alley.

"Actually there was just one last place I wanted to go." I said as we got into my beat up Tacoma.

"Yeah, where?"

"It's a surprise."

Ch. 7

As I neared the Lighthouse Cafe, it was almost nine and the cafe was mostly empty except for a few regulars. A few pink streamers littered the ground and red and silver heart-shaped balloons floated near the ceiling. Lizzie's eyes widened in surprise and recognition. "Seriously? Isn't this where you went to get stood up multiple times? You don't think it's cursed?"