A Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection

by LYNN, K. C.

  “Because you’re as cute as a cupcake, you smell as sweet as a cupcake”—his tone drops and turns husky—“and I’ll just bet you fucking taste as good as one, too.”

  Whoa.

  All the oxygen gets sucked out of my lungs, my heart kicking into overdrive.

  Damn, the man is good. He’s the master at flirting. He could become a professional and write a book on it.

  I wish I could think of a witty comeback but I’m not nearly as smooth as he is.

  “All right, your turn,” he says, saving me from having to make a fool out of myself.

  I look at up him, my head tilting inquisitively.

  “What reminds you of me?” He elaborates.

  Sex!

  Yikes, hold that tongue of yours, Grace!

  “What makes you think anythin’ reminds me of you?” I return, hoping he doesn’t see the truth in my expression.

  “Come on, there has to be something? Let me guess, sex? Orgasms?”

  Well that hits a little too close to home.

  It isn’t long before the perfect thing comes to mind. Smiling, I glance up at him. “You really wanna know?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you ever heard the song “I’m Sexy and I Know It”?”

  His steps falter and smile vanishes.

  I start to worry that I overstepped, but then he throws his head back and lets out the huskiest laugh I’ve ever heard. It’s so infectious that I cover my mouth and laugh, too.

  “Okay, Cupcake, that was a good one. I’ll give you that.”

  “Thanks. I thought it was quite clever myself,” I admit, pride thick in my voice.

  He tosses another question at me. “Favorite color?”

  “I have two—pink and yellow.”

  He nods. “I can see that. Mine’s blue, since I’m sure you’ve been dying to know.”

  I shake my head, biting back a smile. That would have been my guess, since that is the color of his truck. The deep blue is so dark it almost appears black until the sun hits it.

  “Favorite movie?” he asks.

  “27 Dresses.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s a chick flick,” I tell him. “Okay, my turn.”

  He lifts a brow, almost seeming surprised, his arms spreading wide. “Ask away, Cupcake. I’m an open book.”

  “Favorite food?”

  “Any one of your pies.”

  I roll my eyes so hard I practically see my brain. “I’m serious.”

  “I am too. They are the best I’ve ever had and I’ve had many samples. Although, I have a feeling your taste would beat out all of it.”

  Holy moly!

  My cheeks turn to what I’m assuming is a deep shade of red. I’m thankful it’s dark out, but apparently not dark enough.

  “I like making you blush, Grace.”

  I turn my head to the side, trying to shield the evidence with my hair. “Yeah, well, it don’t take much. So don’t let it go to your already oversized head, Evans.”

  The response makes him chuckle and again I find myself laughing with him. It’s been a long time since I laughed like this. I’m smilin’ so much that my cheeks ache.

  Since we’re on the subject, I finally ask the one question I’ve been wanting to know. “Which one is your favorite?”

  “What?”

  “What pie is your favorite?” I avoid eye contact with him, feelin’ embarrassed for some silly reason.

  “That’s a tough one because I really like them all. The one I had just the other day comes to mind first. It has berries and chocolate and shit in it.”

  I burst into laughter. “I never, ever put shit into my pies, Sawyer.”

  “You know what I mean… So, what’s it called?”

  My smile fades, a heaviness settling over my chest. “Missin’ My Mama Pie,” I admit on a whisper, paying close attention to the pavement beneath my feet.

  “Why did you name it that?”

  “Because I was missin’ her when I made it. It’s what pulled me out of bed at three in the morning.” I shrug. “Whatever I’m feeling at that moment is usually how I name my pies.”

  I’m startled out of the heavy moment when Sawyer snags my elbow, his steps coming to an abrupt halt. My mouth opens to ask if everything’s okay and that’s when he pulls me in for a hug, his strong arms banding around me.

  I tense, caught off guard by his sudden affection, but it doesn’t take long for my mind to register the embrace. My body relaxes against him, arms wrapping around his waist as I soak in the comfort he so graciously offers. His heat envelops me, warming me from the inside out, and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Something I didn’t think I was ever capable of feeling again.

  All too soon he breaks the contact, but his body remains close. His hands frame either side of my face, tilting my head up until our gazes meet. “I’m sorry about your mom, Grace.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

  “If you ever need anything you can call me,” he says. “It doesn’t matter what time it is, I’ll always come.”

  “Why?” I ask, unable to stop myself.

  “Because you’re my friend, and I take care of what’s mine.”

  Warmth blooms across my chest, my heart swelling at his kindness. Without wanting it to, a single tear slips from the corner of my eye. Sawyer is there to catch it with his thumb, refusing to let it fall. Then, he surprises me once more by dropping a kiss on top of my head. The simple gesture is almost enough to make me break down into a blubberin’ mess.

  He slings an arm around my shoulders and starts moving again. “All right, Cupcake. Back to twenty questions. What’s your favorite pie?”

  “Hmm,” I muse, thinking of my answer. “Grace’s First Kiss Pie.”

  He tenses, his body tightening next to me. “I’m not sure I want to know why it’s called that.”

  His teasin’ brings a smile to my face. “My mama created it, after my first kiss. It’s a graham cracker crust with raspberries, whip cream, and chocolate, because it was a sweet kiss. She even made little heart shapes with the dough on the top.”

  He grunts. “Sounds like a sissy kiss to me.”

  Laughter tumbles past my lips but it fades the moment we turn onto my street. Disappointment strikes me, hating to leave him already. I really enjoyed his company. One of the reasons I like being at the diner so much is because I’m always around people. Being alone gets old real fast.

  I think about the letter I mailed out a week ago. One I should have sent when I first came to Sunset Bay and hope it will change my life for the better.

  “So this is where you live,” he says, assessing the old house as we head up my driveway.

  “Yeah, it’s Mac’s. He rents it out to me. Or at least he’s supposed to. Our agreement was he’d garnish rent off my wages, but my checks always have the full hours I worked. If I bring it up to him he gets all grumpy so I just keep quiet and appreciate it.”

  When he remains silent, I look up and find him watching me with an expression I can’t decipher.

  “Give me your phone,” he says, putting out his hand.

  “Have you ever heard the word please?”

  There’s a smile on his face as I reach into my purse and pull it out. He takes it from me and enters in what I’m assuming is his number. It has my heart dancing in my chest like a silly schoolgirl.

  “There, now you have my number and I have yours.”

  I take my phone back and see he sent himself a text. The contact name he gave himself has me bursting into laughter—Sexy Sawyer.

  “You, Sawyer Evans, have the biggest ego of anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Not ego, baby, just confidence.”

  I shake my head but can’t hide my smile. “Goodbye, Sexy Sawyer. Thank you for walkin’ me home. I enjoyed talkin’ with you.”

  He grabs my wrist in a gentle grip, his expression somber. “I mean it, Grace. Call me any
time and I’ll come, no matter what.”

  Emotion burns the back of my throat. “Thank you.”

  His eyes are on me as I climb up the front steps. “I’ll pick you up again tomorrow.”

  I toss him a look over my shoulder, my brow lifting at his bold statement. “How do you know if I work?”

  “Because I know everything, Cupcake.” After flashing me one of his panty droppin’ smiles, he walks away, taking all of his arrogance with him.

  It leaves me with a flock of butterflies in my tummy and warmth in my heart.

  Sawyer

  My mind reels as I walk back to my truck. I’m starting to realize there are many sides to Grace. She’s not only sweet but also sassy. I loved hearing her laugh tonight, something I know she doesn’t do often. Yet, no matter how much she smiled that pain still lurked in her pretty eyes. Whoever put it there, I want to find them and rip their fucking throats out.

  It took every ounce of control I possessed not to kiss those sad, pouty lips of hers when she spoke about her mom. She makes me feel shit no other girl ever has. Raises every protective instinct inside of me.

  Not only do I plan to see her tomorrow but also every day after that. She is full of secrets, and I am going to find out every single one of them no matter how long it takes.

  My phone chimes with a text, pulling me from my thoughts. I fish it out of my pocket, a smirk curling my lips when I see whom it’s from.

  Cupcake: Thank you again for walkin’ me home, Sexy Sawyer. Let me know when you make it to your truck so I know you get there safely. :)

  I grunt. What does she think I am, a sissy?

  Me: Cupcake, I’m badass. Believe me, I will make it to my truck safe and sound. Now let’s be honest, you just wanted an excuse to text me. Miss me already?

  My phone dings again a second later with her response.

  Cupcake: Ha, in your dreams, Evans! Seriously, how do you manage to carry that big head of yours around?

  Yeah, she can be fucking sassy.

  Me: I’ve got big shoulders, baby.

  Cupcake: *Eye roll*

  Me: Have a good sleep, Cupcake. I know you’ll be dreaming of me.

  Minutes tick by before I finally get a reply.

  Cupcake: Maybe! ;)

  My cock hardens, every muscle in my body tightening with lust. Very soon I will be doing all the things I’ve been dying to do to her, but it will be done the right way. No just fucking around. I promised Julia I’d tread carefully and that’s what I’m going to do. The last thing I want to do is hurt Grace. Although, I have a feeling she’s the one who holds the power to destroy me.

  My steps slow as I come up to my truck and find Jenny leaning against it, a girl I was warned about the moment I came to town. She used to work for Cooper and apparently enjoys company often.

  I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about fucking her. I like to fuck, a lot and often, but she doesn’t smell like a cupcake and since meeting Grace that’s all I want.

  She pushes off my truck as I approach, shoving her tits out for me to notice. “Hey, Sawyer.”

  “Jenny,” I greet, not bothering to hide my annoyance. I’ve been brushing her off for weeks and she’s obviously not getting the damn hint.

  “Where were you just now?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I walked a friend home.”

  “Grace?” She sneers the name, taking my irritation up another notch.

  I don’t confirm or deny and step around her to open my truck door.

  “I have to admit. Your friendship with her surprises me.”

  “And why is that?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  She scoffs like the stuck-up bitch that she is. “Come on, Sawyer. She’s not your type and we both know it. She’s pathetic; the girl doesn’t even own a car. From what I hear, Mac found her on the street and gave her a place to live. She’s nothing without him.”

  I can have a pretty bad temper when I’m pushed, and this bitch just went too far.

  Slamming my truck door, I stalk toward her, fear washing over her smug expression. “You don’t know me and you sure as hell don’t know Grace. Keep your fucking mouth shut about her, or you and I are going to have major problems. Do you understand?”

  She takes a nervous swallow but lifts her chin. “Just stating what I’ve heard. If you want to get messed up in that, that’s your choice.”

  “Yeah, it is, and it sure as hell is better than getting mixed up with the likes of you.” Without another word, I get into my truck and drive away before I do something I can’t take back.

  Mac pretty much found her on the street.

  I have no idea what Grace’s story is or what happened to land her where she is, but I have every intention of finding out and making sure no one hurts her again.

  Grace

  I can’t believe that after all this time I’m finally going to meet my father, a man I’ve longed for but don’t know.

  Since moving to Sunset Bay, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to contact him. It’s what brought me here in the first place. Last week, I finally bit the bullet and sent him a letter, since I was too scared to receive his rejection in person. But he didn’t reject me; he wants to meet me.

  Earlier today his assistant called, asking if I would have dinner with him this Friday night at one of Charleston’s finest restaurants. Of course I accepted, then I wanted to vomit. I’ve dreamed of this moment for years but now that it’s finally going to happen I have no idea what to say.

  The sound of Mac’s coughing fit brings me out of my anxious thoughts. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s nine, only an hour left until closing. “Mac, go home. Seriously, I got this.”

  “I don’t like leaving you alone here at night.”

  “I’ll be fine. Sawyer is coming in soon and walkin’ me home, so I won’t be on my own for long.”

  The thought has my heart leaping in my chest. It will be the third night in a row that he’s walked me home. Every night he leaves me with a smile on my face and an ache between my legs. I never thought a guy like him could be into me. The girls I picture him with are exceptionally beautiful, like he is. They stand out amongst a crowd, looking like they belong on the cover of a magazine. Not someone as plain-Jane as me.

  It’s no secret Sawyer’s a flirt but somethin’ about the way he looks at me, makes me think he does feel differently about me. Maybe he feels this connection just as much as I do.

  When Mac has another coughin’ spell, I point my finger at him. “Go home and sleep. That’s an order,” I say, mimicking the words that he used on me the other day.

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  “Thank you, darlin’. Call me if you need anything and I’ll come right back.”

  “I’ll be fine. You just take care of yourself.”

  He mumbles something intangible and leaves out the back door.

  I walk back out front to check on the table of high school guys who came in a half hour ago. All of them sport the same football jackets and arrogance. They’re rude, obnoxious little jerks and I’m pretty sure they’ve been drinkin’.

  “Hey, baby, bring your sweet ass over here and bring us more coffee,” the blond one yells out at me.

  His two friends break into laughter, finding his crude behavior funny.

  I hate confrontations and try to avoid them at all costs but these guys have left me no choice. Instead of bringing him more coffee, I grab the bill and place it on their table. “Sorry, boys, but we’re closin’ early. It’s time for you to leave.”

  “Come on now, don’t be like that. Give us some more coffee.” The mouthy one brushes his fingers along the inside of my leg, inching them under my dress.

  I swat his hand away and step back. “Don’t touch me! This isn’t a bar, it’s a diner. You need to pay your bill and leave now!” My heart hammers in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins.

  He pulls out a bunch of bills and
throws them at my feet. “Here, bitch, and there’s a little extra in there for you to suck my dick.”

  Their laughter fills the room, until the confrontation takes a fast turn.

  Sawyer appears out of nowhere, yanking the blond guy from the table and forcing him to his hands and knees before me. “Pick up the fucking money and hand it to her nicely.”

  “Screw you, man! Mind your own business.”

  He shoves the kid’s face into the floor, making him howl in pain. “I’m not into beating the shit out of kids, but I will make an exception if you don’t pick up the money and hand it to her nicely.”

  The two other guys begin to stand until Sawyer snaps his furious eyes on them, pinning them in place. “Whatever you’re thinking, rethink it.”

  They are smart enough to listen.

  I’ve never seen this side of him before, and holy moly is it frightenin’. “It’s all right, Sawyer,” I coax gently. The last thing I want is for him to get in trouble for helping me.

  “No, it’s not. He’s going to pick it up and give it to you nicely, or I’m going to rip his dick off and shove it down his own throat since he wants it in someone’s mouth so bad.” He leans down closer, bringing his face an inch from the guy. “What’s it going to be, kid?”

  The guy picks up the money and hands it to me.

  “Now apologize to her.” When he remains silent, Sawyer knees him in the ribs, making him curl over. “That’s the last time I’m going to be gentle.”

  “I’m sorry,” he wheezes out.

  Sawyer hauls him to his feet, gripping a fistful of his shirt. “If any of you ever come in here again, I will work you over so bad you won’t be able to even hold a fucking football, let alone play it. Got it?”

  All three of them nod.

  “Good. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

  They leave the restaurant in a rush, never looking back.

  Releasing a shaky breath, I begin collecting their dishes, my hands trembling violently.

  “You all right, Cupcake?” Sawyer asks softly, swiping his thumb across my wet cheek. That’s when I realize I’m cryin’.

  I wipe my tears away furiously, hating that I let them get to me. “I’m fine. I just hate confrontations.” A plate drops from my trembling hand and smashes on the floor. “Shit!”