Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection

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Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection Page 2

by K. C. Lynn


  I nod then flick an annoyed glance at Sawyer, making sure not to look directly at him. “You?”

  There’s a smile in his voice as he answers. “I’ll get the usual. And, of course, throw in a slice of whatever delicious pie you baked for me today.”

  I roll my eyes at his arrogant assumption and walk away. Though, the sad truth is, every morning I do think about him as I make whatever pie I decide on for the day, because I know he’ll be eating it. I’ve often wondered what his favorite one is, but of course I would never ask.

  Hanging the slip up for Mac, I grab two cups and start filling their drinks. With a side-glance, I notice Sawyer stand and head toward the bathroom. No matter how hard I try not to, I find myself completely drawn to his every move. That sexy swagger of his makes my toes curl and knees weak.

  It should be illegal for someone to look as good as he does. Today his messy blond hair is covered with a black Hurley cap, the longer strands brushing the tops of his ears. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders and lean muscles. Loose, faded jeans that sport a few holes in them hang low enough on his lean hips that you can spot the edge of his boxer briefs…well, I’m assuming boxer briefs, they look like boxer briefs. Oh boy would I like to find out. Wait…no, I don’t.

  I’m yanked from my internal battle when I realize all that hotness has changed directions from the bathroom and is headed my way.

  Uh-oh!

  My head cranes back, eyes connecting with Sawyer’s, and I find the biggest, most arrogant smile plastered on his handsome face.

  “See something you like, Cupcake?” he asks, his smoldering voice as smooth as Tennessee Whiskey.

  Heat invades my cheeks once again. Well now, this is embarrassin’. This is why I try not to look directly at him. Otherwise, I lose all common sense.

  Rather than answer his question, I shove the drinks into his hands. “Here ya go. You can take these back to your table. Thanks for comin’ to grab them.” Without another word, I spin on my heel and storm into the kitchen.

  His chuckle follows me—taunting me.

  Even his stupid laugh is sexy.

  Sawyer

  “What is with her? Why do you think she avoids me like the plague?” I ask Cade on the drive over to Jaxson and Julia’s.

  I’m feeling frustrated after leaving the diner. That woman tangles me up in knots and I fucking hate it.

  “Maybe she’s just not into you. You know that’s possible, right?”

  “No, it’s not that,” I say, dismissing the suggestion. It can’t be. Not with the way her pretty amber eyes eat me up like I’m one of those delicious pies she makes. Christ, it makes me want to bend her over, hike up that waitress dress, and fuck her until we’re both dying for air.

  “Maybe it’s because you’re always messing with her. It really pisses her off.”

  I chuckle. It does but I can’t seem to help myself, she’s so fun to rile up. I love it when she gets all flustered; it’s a hell of a lot better than witnessing the pain in her eyes that she tries so hard to hide, something I want to know more about.

  Our conversation comes to an end when we pull up to Jaxson and Julia’s.

  Now I get to ruffle someone else’s feathers.

  A smile curves my lips as I climb out of the truck. Cade knocks first but we get no answer. Knowing Jaxson, he probably has his new wife in bed. So I make sure to knock again, louder this time.

  The door flies open to a shirtless, scowling Jaxson.

  Yep, I was right. He was trying to get laid.

  “Do you always have to come at the worst fucking time?”

  “It’s nice to see you, too.” I clap him on the back, passing him with a cheerful smile.

  Julia pokes her head in from the kitchen, her hair rumpled, looking like she was just about to be fucked good.

  Her greeting is much more polite than her husband’s. “Hi, guys, come in.”

  “Hey, Julia,” Cade replies, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  My greeting is a little more, shall we say, hands-on. “Well hey there, beautiful.” I wrap my arms around her from behind, my hands resting on her slightly rounded stomach as I give her a kiss on the cheek. “I have to tell you, Julia, you’re starting to make me have a thing for pregnant women.”

  “Oh, Sawyer.” She giggles, delivering a playful elbow to my ribs.

  Rough hands jerk me back, the collar of my shirt strangling me. “Get the fuck off my wife, asshole, and keep your hands to yourself.”

  I’m unable to control my laughter as I take a seat next to Cade.

  “Oh, Jax, lighten up, he’s just teasing.”

  “Yeah, Jax, lighten up.”

  The look he shoots me is a good indication that it’s time to back off. He’s only fun to rile up to a certain point.

  We are now at that point.

  “Are you guys hungry?” Julia asks. “I can make you something.”

  “We just came from the diner so we’re good. But thanks anyway.”

  “The diner? Was Grace working again?” she asks, taking a seat on Jaxson’s lap.

  Cade answers with a nod.

  “Of course she was,” she grumbles. “I don’t know why I even bothered asking. That girl has been working herself into the ground lately.”

  I noticed that, too. It seems all she does is work.

  “Can I ask you something,” I speak, knowing I shouldn’t.

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “Why does she always avoid me?”

  “Because she’s smart,” Jaxson answers with a smirk.

  Now it’s my turn to scowl. “I’m serious. She doesn’t even look at me half the time.”

  At least not when I’m addressing her, but I leave that out.

  “Sawyer…” Julia starts, shifting uncomfortably.

  “What is it? Tell me. Have I offended her in some way? I know I mess with her a lot, but I’m only kidding.”

  “Can I ask why you want to know? What is it you want with her?”

  “Honestly, I don’t really know. But it would be nice to at least be friends with her, talk with her.”

  Her shoulders deflate on a sigh. “You just have to be patient with her. She’s guarded, she’s been hurt, and I have a feeling I only know the half of it. It’s taken her a long time to open up to Kayla and me.”

  I tense at the information. “What do you mean, ‘hurt?’ What kind of hurt are we talking about here?”

  She looks away, her eyes dropping to the table. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  “Is this something we should know about?” Jaxson asks. “Is she in trouble?”

  “No, well, at least I don’t think so. Like I said, I only know some of it.”

  We all stare at her, refusing to back down and she finally gives in.

  “She lost her mother tragically when she was seventeen,” she whispers. “And don’t ask me for the details because I’m not sharing them with you, but it was really horrible. I also have a feeling that where she was, before coming here, was not a good place.”

  “What about her dad? Where is he?” I ask.

  “Again, that’s not my story to tell.” Her eyes narrow at the hard look I give her. “Forget it. You’re not going to bully me. Grace trusted me and I will not betray her. But, Sawyer, if you want to get to know her then do it, just…”

  “What?” I ask when she trails off.

  “Just whatever it is you want with her, whether it’s friendship or more, I ask you to be sure about it. I don’t want either of you to get hurt. You both mean a lot to me.”

  I nod, giving her my word.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend a long night with Grace in my bed, because I do, but I also want to get to know her, especially now.

  All these unanswered questions aren’t going to cut it for me. I will take Julia’s advice and tread carefully but I refuse to back away from this. One way or another, I will get my answers, even if I have to break through eve
ry damn barrier she has.

  Grace

  “Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m sending you home,” Mac says, his voice stern.

  “Why?”

  “Because you have been here for ten hours, Grace, and you worked twelve yesterday. You look about ready to fall over. You need to go home and get some sleep. Ruby’s coming in; she’ll be fine on her own now that the supper rush is over.”

  “I’m all right, Mac. Really.”

  His hand moves to my shoulder. “This ain’t up for debate, darlin’. Go home and get some sleep. I appreciate all your help lately but it’s important you get rest.”

  “All right,” I relent quietly. “But just know I don’t mind all the hours. I need the money.”

  “Oh,” he says, his eyes narrowing, “and what exactly are you needing it for?”

  “I’ve been thinkin’ about taking some online courses for school. I haven’t decided exactly what yet, maybe business or somethin’.” I shrug. “But even online it can be costly.”

  “Well,” he starts cautiously. “How much are we talking about? Maybe I can help.”

  “No!” My hand lifts, stopping him from going further. “You have already done too much for me. I will not accept anythin’ more.”

  He becomes irritated at the quick rejection, a scowl forming on his worn face.

  I close the space between us, wrapping my arms around the big lug. The last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings. “I love and appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Please don’t be offended, and understand that I can’t accept any more from you.”

  His burly arms hug me tight, a little too tight that I find it hard to breathe. “Fine, you stubborn-ass girl, I’ll drop it for now. But you are going home, Grace, and I want you to get some sleep. That’s an order.”

  I step back, giving him a sassy salute. “Yes, sir.”

  His lips twitch. “Go on and get outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.”

  “Bye.” Lifting to my toes, I give him a quick kiss on the cheek then collect my purse and jacket. Before leaving, I grab the table scraps that I sat aside throughout the day and head for the back door, hoping the sweet, homeless, chocolate Labrador is there.

  I spotted him when I took out the trash the other day and he bolted in the opposite direction, absolutely terrified of me. I’ve tried everything to coax him closer but nothing has worked. He doesn’t trust me yet; which is something I can understand. So I decided to start leaving leftover scraps for him and hope he’s been the one eating them.

  Sure enough, as soon as I push open the heavy door and set the container down, I hear a clickin’ sound on the concrete. It isn’t long until the cute, but homely lookin’ dog, comes trotting around the corner. He stops a good distance from me but doesn’t run off.

  I take this as a good sign and remain where I am, kneeling by the door. “Come on, it’s all right, I won’t hurt ya.” My tone is calm and gentle. “Are you hungry?” I ask, pushing the table scraps toward him.

  His head tilts, a low whimper escaping him.

  What are you so afraid of?

  Hope fills my chest as he starts toward me, his steps cautious. I remain still, barely taking a breath. He comes only close enough to eat the food I brought.

  I raise my hand ever so slowly, making sure he can see it and gently lay it on the side of his neck. “Good boy. See, I won’t hurt you.” My fingers are gentle, stroking his greasy fur. “Where did you come from? Don’t ya have a family?”

  He whines again, the sound completely breaking my heart.

  “It’s okay. Don’t feel bad. Families are overrated anyway. And they’re stupid if they don’t love something as special as you.”

  A chuckle erupts behind me, scaring the bejeezus out of me. I jump with a scream and land on my butt, smackin’ my head against the door in the process.

  The dog yelps and takes off.

  “Shit! Grace, are you all right?” A concerned pair of green eyes comes into my view as Sawyer kneels in front of me.

  “Sawyer? What the heck are ya doin’ sneakin’ up on me like that?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Mac told me I could find you back here. I didn’t want to intrude on your conversation with your new friend there.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, the beginning of a smile curving his lips.

  I glare at him, hoping to conceal my embarrassment. “Well, thanks a lot for scarin’ him off. Do you know how long it’s taken me to get that close to him?”

  His amusement fades, guilt taking over his expression. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you or the dog. Is your head all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m all right,” I tell him softly. “What are you doin’ back here anyway? Don’t you ever get tired of eatin’ out?”

  He smirks, turning my insides into goo. “I’m not here to eat, I’m here to see you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I thought I would see what time you were off work and offer you a ride. Looks like I came at the right time, Mac told me he’s sending you home.”

  “You want to give me a ride home?” I ask, suspicion rearing inside of me.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why?’ Why not?”

  Why would he want to? What does he get out of it?

  He stands, offering me his hand. I look at it for a long second before accepting it. His warm fingers curl around mine, sending a tingle up my arm, spreading right to the tips of my toes.

  I’m pathetic.

  “Well, thank you very much for the offer, but I like walkin’.”

  And if I’m around you for too long, I could end up jumping your bones.

  He shrugs, not the least bit put off. “Okay, I’ll walk with you then.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Sawyer. I can manage on my own just fine; I do it all the time.”

  His eyes narrow in annoyance. “I know you can.”

  I peer up at him, trying to figure out what he’s up to.

  “Listen, Grace, I just want to talk. I thought we could get to know each other better since we have mutual friends. That’s all.”

  Oh! Well that’s awful nice of him. Now I feel bad for being so suspicious.

  “All right. If you really want to walk with me, I’d like that.”

  He flashes me a smile, but it’s not his usual arrogant one, it’s a genuine one, and boy is it lethal.

  “I want to,” he assures me.

  “Come on then, we’ll head out through the front.”

  We walk back inside, my body humming from his close proximity.

  The walk home is going to be a long one.

  “See ya tomorrow, Mac.” I wave as we pass by him.

  “Bye, darlin’, and remember what I said—sleep, young lady!”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumble.

  Once we get outside, I bundle my jacket up from the slight chill in the air. Nearing the end of October you can feel winter on the horizon.

  “What did Mac mean about you getting sleep?” Sawyer asks, falling in step next to me. He slows his stride since my legs are not nearly as long as his.

  “He’s just bein’ a mother hen,” I say, cutting my hand through the air. “He thinks I work too much and don’t sleep enough.”

  He grunts. “You do work too much.”

  I shrug. “Mac needs the help and I need the money.”

  “And sleep?” he asks.

  “Sleep hasn’t come easy for me in a long time,” I confess softly, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

  His questioning eyes burn into the side of my face.

  I quickly change the subject. “Aren’t you cold? Where’s your jacket?” I ask, pointing to the same T-shirt I saw him in earlier today.

  “Cupcake, this is not cold. I grew up in Denver, you haven’t seen cold until you experience a winter there.”

  I find myself intrigued with this tidbit of information. “You grew
up in Colorado?”

  “Yep, born and raised.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see snow.”

  “Believe me, it gets old fast. It’s colder than shit and a pain in the ass to shovel.”

  Shoveling probably isn’t all that fun, but I’d still love to experience it at least once.

  I feel his eyes upon me again but I don’t look over at him because, well, I don’t want to embarrass myself like always.

  “What about you, Grace? Where are you from?”

  “Florida.” My answer is nothing more than a whisper. It hurts to speak about the place where I lost everything that mattered to me.

  “Did you like it there?”

  I nod, since my throat suddenly feels a little too tight.

  “Do you miss it?”

  “I miss what I lost there.”

  Gah! What the heck is wrong with me? I have a loose tongue tonight.

  “But I really like it here, too,” I continue. “It’s a nice town, and I’m glad I met Julia and Kayla.” My pathetic attempt to change the subject sounds lame, even to my own ears. “Do you like it here?” I ask, hoping to steer the conversation back to him.

  Thankfully, it works.

  “I do. And what I love most about it is getting to piss off Jaxson on a regular basis.”

  A smile plays at the edge of my lips as I think about all the ways he’s always pokin’ at Jaxson. “How’s the gym comin’ along for y’all?”

  “Good. We should be up and running in another couple months.”

  “Julia has told me a little about it. Sounds like it’s gonna be a great place.”

  “Yeah.” Is his only response before he turns the tables on me again. “Tell me about yourself, Cupcake.”

  “Well…my name is Grace and I hate bein’ called Cupcake.”

  There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks again. “Sorry, but I can’t help it, you just remind me of a cupcake.”

  I scoff. “I’m sure I remind everyone of a cupcake now, since you shoved one into my face at the wedding.”

  He chuckles, amused with himself. “That’s not why you remind me of a cupcake.”

  My eyes shift to his, my curiosity getting the better of me. “Oh yeah, then why?”

 

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