The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley)

by Ava Miles

  Jane smirked at Elizabeth, who shot off her chair and ran toward the bathroom for all she was worth. It was one sanctuary Rhett had never dared cross.

  She didn’t make it of course, and soon she was laughing as her hair hung to the floor when he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

  Soaking up every minute of their fun, she didn’t protest like Jane usually did. No one had played with her like this growing up, and she felt like she was making up for lost time.

  This was her family, and family did funny, crazy things together.

  She knew who had her back.

  Chapter 23

  Fortunately, Wednesday was a slow night at High Stakes, so Terrance left the kitchen in his sous chef’s capable hands and changed out of his work clothes. His chef’s jacket was dotted with sauce since he’d daydreamed about Elizabeth and let a sauce bubble over, a rarity. More embarrassing than his slip, his whole staff seemed to understand what was up with him.

  Apparently his Latin dance antics at the beautiful Elizabeth Saunders’ class were currently top tier gossip in town. It was his first taste of small town life. Terrance was used to his life being the fodder for the media, but somehow this was different.

  Dare Valley was charming, but he didn’t appreciate knowing his sex life was going to be discussed at Arthur Hale’s Bingo night. Hadn’t Jill chortled with glee when she’d told him about that? Dr. Evil was still wreaking havoc wherever she went. He’d sent up a chocolate soufflé, hoping to sway her from her sinister ways.

  Time would tell if she could reform.

  Even though he wanted to push his car over the limit to reach Elizabeth’s house, he didn’t speed. Was he acting like a good boy or what? His mother would never have believed it.

  The lights were warm and welcoming when he arrived, and he jogged up her steps only to see the door open. Framed behind a sea of soft light, she stood there, naked as the day she was born, Venus come to life from a frothy pool, awaiting her pleasure.

  His loins tightened at the sight of her.

  “I knew you’d be early,” she said as he reached her.

  Yanking her to him, he lowered his mouth to hers, and like usual, they went from hot to combustible in that precious space of a second. He’d never mastered the art of making love to Elizabeth slowly the first time. Seemed like that pattern wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

  He shuffled them inside and slammed the door as she tore off his clothes. The bedroom was too far away, and she was so warm and ready, he ended up pressing her against the door and kissing his way down her body.

  “I’m hungry,” she said with enough sauce in her voice that he had to fight the urge to take her right then. “I thought you said you’d bring me something to eat.”

  He bit the inside of her thigh gently and then kissed the mark. “Later. God, I want you.”

  He continued his path of lush kisses inward, and she grew frantic and tense in his arms. She was panting, moaning, and he used everything he could remember about her body to drive her wild. When she came, the sight of her bucking against him was so erotic he had to lock his muscles to keep from entering her. He kissed her instead and nestled her against his chest when she descended back to him.

  Those luminous blue eyes finally opened. “Hi.”

  Even though he was straining for his own release, he kept a leash on his desire. “Hi.”

  “I missed you today.” She trailed her hand down until she wrapped her fingers around his hard length. “Seems you missed me too.”

  “Ready for round two?”

  Pushing him onto his back on the floor, she straddled him, and the sight of her curvy body with her long blond hair trailing over her shoulders stole his breath.

  “Are you?” she breathed out as she took the condom he handed her and rolled it over him.

  He didn’t answer, simply rose up to a sitting position and took her mouth again before he finally entered her. Like always, their dance was instinctive. He knew just where to thrust, how deep and how fast, while she knew exactly when to circle her hips and drive him wild.

  When their releases came, he felt that familiar pull of something more, something special—the same kind of sensation he had when he created a culinary masterpiece. The kind of emotion that went beyond the everyday and into a whole new realm.

  Tucking her close, he didn’t fight the moment, the pull, the feeling, whatever this was with her. She laid her head on his chest, her body soft against him.

  “Do you ever wonder what it is between us?” he asked in a low voice.

  Her muscles tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “Yes.”

  He waited, but she said no more. Neither did he. For both of them, it was enough.

  Soon, he realized the hardwood floor was cold, and he needed to clean up, so he stood and extended his hand to her. They made it to the shower, where they enjoyed more fun and games.

  Relaxed beyond words, he retrieved the groceries he’d bought from his car. He’d had the foresight to leave them behind before coming to her door, knowing he didn’t want putting away groceries to be the first thing on the menu for them. When he returned, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. She was wearing nothing but a cream silk robe. With that view, he began to sort through the contents of his well-stocked bags.

  “You didn’t have to bring groceries,” she chided, but picked up the celery root the size of a pineapple with a puzzled look on her face, turning it over in her hands.

  He’d bet a million bucks she didn’t know what it was. Heck, most people wouldn’t. “These ingredients are special. You can’t get them in Dare right now.”

  Her look said it all. “So what are you going to make me?”

  “A special ingredient arrived today that I want to try out. You up for something unusual?”

  She eyed his bags with suspicion now. “You don’t have bull testicles in there, do you?”

  Like that would ever be his perfect ingredient. He was a man after all. No way serving up some poor male’s balls would be his Holy Grail. “Fennel pollen.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “Excuse me. Did you say you’re feeding me pollen? Terrance, I am not a bee.”

  “Could have fooled me. Earlier you sure were buzzing like one.”

  She socked him. “Those are sexy sounds, not…insect sounds.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he said, taking out the container holding what could be his perfect ingredient.

  He’d stared at it earlier after cracking the seal, hoping this would finally be the end of his quest. Inhaling the heady scent of fennel, he’d tasted a pinch. The licorice and citrus had saturated his tongue, and for a moment, it was like tasting the most perfect sunshine on a summer day, the promise of peace palatable. This might be the one.

  “I’m going to add it to couscous, along with the most incredible olive oil you have ever tasted from Tuscany.”

  “Okay, I’ll trust you.”

  Those words did something to him. Suddenly all he could see was her, sitting there under the kitchen lights, her skin still warm and radiant from their lovemaking. Vixen had been so beautiful, but seeing Elizabeth all natural like this… Something shifted in his heart.

  The container of fennel pollen fell from his hand onto the counter. He couldn’t see anything but her, didn’t want to see anything else, taste anything else, experience anything else.

  “Hey!” she cried. “I’m hungry here, and while I want more sex too, I want to eat first.”

  He shook himself. She’d misunderstood his gaze. It hadn’t been lust. It had been…hell, he didn’t know what. Shoving his hand into the grocery bag, he drew out the couscous.

  While she sipped the wine he’d brought, a buttery Chardonnay from one of his favorite vineyards in Napa, he cut and pan-fried the celery root chips. The couscous didn’t take long, and as he drizzled olive oil on it, he knew it was the moment of truth.

  When he added the fennel pollen, he would discover if it was the perfect ingredient.
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  Dusting the soft grains with the mustard-colored powder, he drew out a stainless steel spoon and prepared himself. Whatever it was—nirvana or mundane—he was ready to accept the truth.

  Taking a delicate portion, he raised it to his lips, inhaled the fragrance of lemons and spice, and then opened his mouth. The couscous was perfectly al dente; the olive oil called to mind ancient and gnarled olive trees of Tuscany; and the fennel powder gave him the vision of a field of those tall green stalks swaying in a gentle breeze on a summer day.

  The taste was marvelous.

  There was enjoyment, yes, but not that moment where everything stood still. Not that feeling of home, of endless peace.

  He set his spoon aside. It wasn’t the perfect ingredient.

  Elizabeth jumped off the counter and rubbed his back. “Hey now. It can’t be that bad. I mean your food never sucks.” Taking his spoon, she took a portion and shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes widened. “Wow. I mean, that’s incredible. Why did you look so disappointed?”

  “It’s not the perfect ingredient,” he told her. “I keep looking for it, but I haven’t found it yet.”

  Somehow he ended up telling her, trusting she wouldn’t think he was crazy or the biggest food nerd on the planet.

  “That’s a pretty tall order,” she said when he finished telling her. “Maybe that one thing doesn’t exist. For me, it’s like ice cream, I guess. I eat it when I’m upset, hoping it will fill the hole inside me, but it never does.”

  She immediately busied herself with grabbing them plates and silverware, as though she’d revealed too much. Closing the container of fennel pollen, he set aside his hopes and dreams for the ingredient. No, it wasn’t the one, but it was incredible and deserved to be honored in his kitchen.

  “I’ll have to make you my Italian gelato,” he told her as he brought the food to the table. Maybe the best ice cream would bring her peace. He wanted that for her more than anything.

  “I’d love that,” she replied, watching him as she lit the candles. “But what I said about the ice cream…it’s a bit…heavy. I’m sorry.”

  He turned his head and stared at her. “And my story about the perfect ingredient wasn’t? Elizabeth, I want you to tell me things like that. No secrets, remember? Come here.”

  She crossed to him, and he simply opened his arms. The moment of vulnerability was ripe between them. He held her until he felt himself settle, heard her exhale deeply. He kissed her hair and let her go with a gentle squeeze.

  “Okay. Speaking of transparency, I wanted to tell you I’m driving up to Denver in the morning to have lunch with Natalie Hale about business. Since you and Jane are tight, and Natalie is going to be her sister-in-law, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention the meeting until Natalie says something.”

  “Well…Jane and I—”

  “Don’t keep anything from each other,” he finished. “I know, but I wanted you to know I’m having lunch with Natalie, and that it’s professional, so there are no misunderstandings. It’s up to you if you want me to tell you what it’s about now or after I talk to her.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  He nodded and told her about his conversation with Mac. She was quiet throughout, just sipping her wine now and again. “I told you so you wouldn’t think for a moment I was interested in her,” he finally said, reaching for her free hand. “I know we never talked about being exclusive before, but we were that summer. At least I was, and I think you were too since we were together almost every night.”

  “I wasn’t with anyone else.”

  “Good. I don’t want to be with anyone else now either. Okay?” He’d never really had this conversation before, and he felt both queasy and excited.

  Commitment. His first.

  “And I’d like to…shit…make love to you without a condom if you’re on the Pill. I can show you my latest tests. I’m clean.”

  He fished out a hundred to cover the awkwardness. He’d never made love to a woman without protection before.

  “I’m on the Pill, and I’m clean too. I…ah…would like there to be no barriers between us. I’ve…never done that with a man.”

  He exhaled sharply. “Neither have I.” Then embarrassment made him hunch his shoulders. “I mean with a woman.”

  “I knew what you meant.” Her eyes lowered to the table, and her pulse beat strong in her neck. “We’re getting pretty serious here.”

  A heaviness anchored in his gut. Wasn’t commitment supposed to make you happy? “We were pretty serious before. Are you thinking about running again?”

  “After I just told you what I did?” she whispered. “No. I just…sometimes it’s really intense between us.”

  He reached for her arm and drew her to him again. Touching her always settled him, and he thought being close to him did the same thing for her. Lowering his head, he kissed her gently, caressing her bottom lip like he was tasting his first Chantilly cream.

  “I know it’s intense. But it’s a good intense, right?”

  She nodded and tucked her head into his neck, everything about her vulnerable now.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “You can’t promise that, and you know it.” She caressed his nape before returning to her seat.

  “Hey,” he said in a soft voice as she started to serve herself some couscous.

  Her chest rose with a deep breath as she looked up to meet his eyes. He hated seeing the wariness there.

  “I’m not him.”

  She jerked like he’d shot her, and he almost regretted it. But it had to be said.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  The victory was sweet, and a little mind-blowing to a man who’d never really believed he wanted commitment.

  The first time around, he’d taken their relationship for granted. Hid his delight at their exclusivity, trying not to make a big deal out of it. With this second chance, he was going to be more intentional. Spell things out. Somehow he knew it was the key to getting her to trust him all the way. Like he wanted to do with her.

  He took over, serving her the celery root chips. Simple fare, but neither one of them liked to eat heavy this late at night.

  Now wasn’t the time to push for more information about the man who’d stalked her. The violence in Terrance scared her, and he would learn to control that. For both their sakes.

  Her trust in him was enough for now, but as he poured them more wine, he knew the day would come when he’d ask for the man’s name. Then he’d decide what to do about him.

  Violence wasn’t the only way to punish the bastard for what he’d done to her.

  Chapter 24

  Natalie had chosen Beast + Bottle for her lunch with Terrance not only because it was one of the best restaurants in Denver, but because the space had housed other great culinary giants like Aix, Olivéa, and Petit Louis. As far as Natalie was concerned, there was something magical about the location, and she knew Terrance would appreciate that.

  Foodies believed in culinary magic—even supposedly cynical ones like The Tattooed Chef.

  She loved the restaurant’s honey-colored hardwood floor, simple white walls, and white-tiled bar punctuated with white posts. There was time to savor it since she’d arrived first by design. She was already sitting at their table when Terrance breezed through the front door, causing the staff to jolt to attention. Heads turned throughout the restaurant. A few women licked their chops at the sight of him in dark designer jeans, a cream Irish sweater, a suede brown jacket, and tan Italian boots.

  Natalie knew the owners, and out of courtesy to them, she’d mentioned Terrance was dining with her when she made the reservation. It seemed only fair.

  Terrance would have spotted her immediately given the restaurant’s size, but the hostess brought him over with aplomb—like the distance between the front of the restaurant and their booth in the corner of the restaurant was akin to a trek across the Kalahari Desert.

  When he sat down, Terrance planted hi
s elbows on the table and leaned forward. “You gave them a heads-up, didn’t you?”

  She cocked a brow. “If you were the chef here, wouldn’t you want to know?”

  His smile reminded her of a silent movie actor preparing to swing from one pirate ship to another for treasure. “This is going to be fun. I like that kind of thinking. Only confirms why I drove up here today to meet with you.”

  “Yes, it is a bit of a drive, and I’d bet you aren’t getting a lot of sleep these days.” She batted her eyelashes playfully. “Now, are you going to tell me straight out why we’re meeting or are you going to make me poison you?”

  He chuckled. “Like any chef, I have a phobia of poison, so I guess I’d better tell you.”

  A server appeared at their table, all bright eyed and bushy tailed. “Chef T. It’s an honor to have you eating with us today. Chef wanted me to tell you he has something special prepared for you both if you’re willing. Of course, you can choose anything from the menu, but we wanted to make your visit to Beast + Bottle memorable.”

  Natalie had to bite her lip to keep herself from telling the server to buzz off. Her insides were jumping up and down like cheerleaders on the sidelines, eager to hear Terrance’s news.

  “I’m happy to enjoy what Chef has prepared. Please send him my thanks. Natalie?” His mouth quirked like he knew this interruption was driving her nuts.

  “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  She suffered through ordering drinks, but the instant their zealous server left them, she leaned forward. “Okay. Spill it. You’re killing me.”

  He settled against the back of the booth, acting like he had all day. “At my request, Mac Maven would like to offer you the position of the onsite catering director of The Grand Mountain Hotel. You would also oversee the catering menus for all of the other Four Aces hotels, working closely with me to ensure the guests enjoy the type of culinary experience I have in mind.”

  This was…wow. Her mouth dropped open. “Shut the front door.”