Taste the Heat

by Rachel Harris

  “Excuse me,” she said, politely shouldering her way past customers gathered near the front of the restaurant. Cane stood head and shoulders above everyone else near the main door and she raised her voice to ask, “Cane, can you see what’s happening?”

  Flashing red lights highlighted his wide grin, dimple in full view—an odd reaction to an emergency, she thought, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. But then he grew serious, wiping any trace of amusement from his face. “You better come with me, Colby. I think you’ll want to see this.”

  The solemnness of his voice paired with the intense look in his eyes got Colby’s feet moving double-time. More than a few of the customers grinned in her direction, another weird reaction, and when she reached Cane she asked, “What on earth’s going—”

  He yanked her outside the door.

  “—on?” Colby blinked, unable to process what she was seeing.

  A fire truck was indeed parked in their lot. The siren had been silenced, but red lights still flashed. A semi-circle of fire fighters dressed in uniform stretched on either side, joined by handfuls of familiar civilians. But they weren’t fighting a fire. They were just standing there, smiling.

  That was enough to put the wrinkle of confusion on her forehead, but it wasn’t what had Colby blinking her eyes like a crazy-eyed chica. No, that was due to the highly adorable, brightly colored, handmade banner attached to the ladder on the truck that said: Will You Marry Us???

  Colby’s jaw gaped open. She was definitely dreaming.

  As if to prove that this wasn’t some wonderful stirring of her imagination, Sherry suddenly appeared by her side, latching onto her right hand. Cane grabbed the left.

  Colby looked up at her big brother with a question in her eyes, and he smiled.

  “I was worried you’d both get hurt,” he explained, referring to his obvious prior objections. “I see now I was wrong.” When Colby mock-gasped in shock, Cane shrugged. “What can I say? Even I’m wrong from time to time. Guess no one’s completely perfect.”

  Sherry snorted. “Lord, it’s getting deep out here.”

  Cane chuckled and ducked down to press a kiss on the top of Colby’s head. “Make each other happy,” he whispered.

  Awed, Colby nodded and looked out at the wide arc of friendly faces. If her hands weren’t otherwise occupied, she’d pinch herself to prove this was happening. Sharon and the Chief were front and center in the pack, Jason’s dad smiling and his mom dabbing at her eyes. To her right was old Mrs. Thibodeaux, who for an old lady seemed to pop up everywhere in Magnolia Springs. Jake from Jake’s Seafood, Missy from LeJeune’s bakery, and Tootsie from Trosclair’s Convenience store were all there, too. It was like a strange, Cajun version of The Wizard of Oz. Of course, the arc was mainly made up of fire fighters, a few of whom Colby recognized from Taste the Heat and the hospital yesterday. And then there was Angelle.

  When Colby locked eyes with the young woman, she seemed to shrink into herself. The redhead looked to the ground and bit her lip, then raised her head and met her gaze again with a small, hopeful smile. Without hesitation, Colby returned it. Nothing that happened that night at the gym had been Angelle’s fault. The blame lay totally on Colby. She mouthed the words thank you, and relief crossed Angelle’s beautiful face. The woman’s smile widened as her eyes darted to the homemade sign.

  Butterflies burst into flight in Colby’s gut.

  But where were Jason and Emma?

  Whispers and cheers went up, and then the line of fire fighters broke. Colby watched, her heart in her throat, as Jason and Emma stepped forward. Just like the others, the man she loved was dressed in uniform, and he looked so good tears instantly filled her eyes. He confidently strode across the gravel lot, not stopping until he stood before her. And after sharing a wordless look with a beaming Emma, Jason sank to one knee.

  Colby’s breathing faltered. It was quite possible she’d forgotten how to perform the involuntary action altogether.

  She’d been wrong before. She was dreaming. There was no way this was really happening. Any minute her annoying alarm would go off, yanking her from this wonderful fantasy. But until that happened, Colby wanted to soak in every moment.

  Jason’s lips turned up in that signature sexy, lopsided grin she loved. He lifted his chin at his best friend, and Cane squeezed his sister’s fingers. Then Jason simply stared into her eyes and said, “Marry me.”

  Emma squealed. So did Sherry. Cane chuckled as his godchild bounced up and down on her toes chanting, “Say yes, say yes, say yes!” while Colby stood there like a blubbering idiot, laughing in amazement as she realized that what she’d thought she heard, what she’d dreamed of hearing ever since she was a little girl, had actually just happened. “Oh my God.”

  Happy tears sprang forth, falling freely down her cheeks as she released her siblings’ hands and sank down to her knees. She pressed her lips to his, love, peace, and contentment filling her heart until she thought it would burst. This was her family. This was her life. And she was never letting go.

  Leaning back, Colby rested her forehead against his, losing herself in the love shining in Jason’s eyes. “Captain, I thought you’d never ask.”

  Welcome to Robicheaux’s

  Emma’s Kicked Up Chicken Strips

  Colby’s Crawfish Beignets

  Jason’s That’s How It’s Done Crawfish Étouffée

  Cane’s Bacon Stuffed Jalapeno Hush Puppies

  Sherry’s Fried Catfish Sliders

  Bite Ya Back Alligator Meatballs

  Shrimp and Grits and Andouille, Oh My!

  Just a Hint of Spicy Shrimp Quesadillas

  Luxurious Lobster Mac and Cheese

  Mini Muffulettas of Awesome

  Oh That’s Good Tasso and Boudin Jambalaya

  Crawfish Pie a la Yum

  Yeah That’s Hot Cajun-Spiced Wings

  Crab Cake Robicheaux

  Not Your Mama’s Fried Catfish

  Who Dat Blackened Gold Chicken

  Dahlin’ Gimme Some Shrimp Creole

  Fixin’ to Eat Merliton Stuffed Bell Pepper

  Lick Ya Lips Artichoke Dip

  Stick to Ya Hips Deep Fried Cauliflower

  Desserts:

  Bourbon Street Bananas Foster

  Heavy on the Rum Bread Pudding

  Big EZ Pecan Pie

  Sinfully Delicious Doberge Cake

  Gramma Robicheaux’s Praline Cheesecake

  Acknowledgments

  I get teary-eyed whenever I get to this part. It takes so many people to bring a book to life, and often the little things mean the most. First and foremost, I have to thank my family. My husband, Gregg, is my rock. He helps me plot, he brainstorms titles, he reads every book I write, and he even critiques my writing—especially the dude conversations! He gets me hotel rooms when I really need a quiet space to write and takes care of the girls when I leave for yet another conference. Most of all, he believes in me. And it is because of him that I know what true romance looks like.

  My two beautiful girls, Jordan and Cali, are by far my biggest fans. They tell everyone they know—and I do mean everyone—about my books. They love giving me plot suggestions, and while I may not take many of them, their enthusiasm inspires me and keeps me going. This book was actually inspired from an episode of Chopped we watched as a family, and our hobby of cooking together formed the basis of Jason’s relationship with Emma.

  Next, I have to thank the Greater New Orleans area. I was blessed to grow up in Jefferson Parish (on the Best Bank—locals will get that), and though I’ve moved a few times over the last ten years, I wanted to write a love letter to the place I’ll always call home. Good food, amazing people, unique music, and a culture that embraces history and tradition, nowhere beats Nawlins. I look forward to showing the world even more about our section of the world in the next two books!

  My godmother, Rhonda Armantrout, went WAY above and beyond in helping me research this book. Her knowledge of every facet
of the restaurant industry was a godsend—and if you notice, I totally used her name for Colby’s fabulous sous-chef. Thank you for the pages and pages of notes and willingness to answer any question, even the silly ones, and for connecting me with a local firefighter to help with Jason’s story. He’d rather not be named but I hope he knows what a blessing he was. Our conversation totally changed the ending of this book!

  As I always say, my critique partners are my sanity. Without Trisha Wolfe and Shannon Duffy, I don’t think I’d ever get a book finished. They push me, challenge me, encourage me, and inspire me. They were joined for this book by Tara Fuller and Cindi Madsen, who I KNOW I drove batty with e-mails. Tara, thank you for being the world’s best beta reader on this, and Cindi, thank you for the cover quote, the phone calls, and the responses to questions sent at the most random of times. I owe all four of you like a tub of chocolate.

  Karen Erickson, thank you for all your guidance and fun e-mails. You know how to make me laugh, girl. Rose Garcia, Lisa Burstein, and Diane Alberts, thanks for always being there to answer questions or give advice. Amber Troyer, thanks for reading the first half of this book and for supporting everything I do. And a huge thanks to the ladies of West Houston RWA for teaching me so much over the last two years—looking forward to many more!

  Joey Thomas, of the Joey Thomas Band, thanks for letting me use your name. Emma’s not your only fan around these parts. You are so gifted and we believe BIG things are in store for you!

  Kelly P. Simmon of InkSlinger PR has taught me SO much in such a short time. She also happens to be one of the kindest, most genuine women you’ll ever meet, and is an angel to have in your corner. Speaking of angels in my corner, I also have Tara Gonzalez, my literary cheerleader, and Heather Riccio, my ninja goddess. Seriously, these ladies ROCK!! A huge shout out to Jessica Turner and Misa Ramirez, for all the amazing things you do. Much love, ladies.

  Stacy Cantor Abrams is like my fairy godmother. She plucked my YA debut out of the pile, believed in it and loved on it, and then believed and loved on ME. She never doubted that I could take my brand of humor and romance to the adult romance world, and that unshakable faith gave me confidence. If Stacy is my fairy godmother, Alycia Tornetta is my magical muse. During the plotting of this book, she gave me advice. Her lessons on GMC (goal, motivation, conflict) have changed how I write. And her eagle eye and wordsmith skills kept me from embarrassing myself many times in this book. Girls, it’s an honor working with you…but an even bigger one to call you my friends.

  To our captain, Liz Pelletier, thank you for always keeping it real, for making me laugh, and for having such a teacher’s spirit. My fabulous agent, Pam van Hylckama Vlieg, thanks for loving this story and believing in it as much as I do. I look forward to many, many, many years working together!

  My mother-in-law Peggy was my instant form of research whenever I got confused or needed a certain detail. She read this book in record time, and her response e-mail made me all kinds of giddy. She may tie with my daughters for being my biggest fan. Speaking of reading in record time, my dad read this book when we were on vacation together. I admit I blushed knowing he was in the next room reading the body paint scene, but it meant SO much to know he was doing it. My mom not only reads every book I write but has also started writing herself. Our talks on plot and our favorite books always make me smile. Both of them keep our Cajun ancestry alive and help me pass it on to my children even here in Texas, and their open door policy for babysitting when I need a quiet space to write has been a blessing more times than I can count. I love all of you!

  And finally, to you, my lovely, awesome readers, and to my fabulous Flirt Squad. Your emails, tweets, and reviews make me teary-eyed, giddy, and doing humorous happy dances that keep my girls laughing. As a bookworm, I know how many choices are out there, and I feel truly honored and blessed that you have chosen to read my stories. I hope they entertain you, give you a warm fuzzy, and help you escape the chaotic world we live in. Y’all are made of awesome.

  About the Author

  Rachel Harris grew up in New Orleans, where she watched soap operas with her grandmother and stayed up late sneak reading her mama’s favorite romance novels. Now a Cajun cowgirl living in Houston, she still stays up way too late reading her favorite romances, only now, she can do so openly. She firmly believes life’s problems can be solved with a hot, powdered-sugar-coated beignet or a thick slice of king cake, and that screaming at strangers for cheap, plastic beads is acceptable behavior in certain situations.

  When not typing furiously or flipping pages in an enthralling romance, she homeschools her two beautiful girls and watches reality television with her amazing husband. Taste The Heat is her adult romance debut. She’s the author of My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century and A Tale of Two Centuries. She loves hearing from readers! Find her at www.RachelHarrisWrites.com.

  Find your Bliss with Cindi Madsen’s

  Act Like You Love Me

  “Cut, cut cut!” Sawyer stood. “Was that supposed to be more passionate? Because it sucked.”

  “This is supposed to be the eighteen hundreds,” Brynn said. “It can’t be too passionate or it would seem inappropriate for the time.”

  The next instant Sawyer was charging up the steps to the stage. “I’m not saying it’s got to be a kiss with tongue, I’m saying you’ve got to look at each other like you’re in love so the audience will want it to work out. Our modern audience.” Sawyer shook his head. “Take it again, from before the proposal.”

  It was impossible to concentrate with Sawyer standing right there, so close she could hear every shift of his body and feel his gaze on her like a weight. All her lines were swimming together.

  Leo knelt, told her she was an angel. She said her line, trying to peer into his soul like she wanted to be with him, and then Leo kissed her. And it was sloppier than usual. She did her best to not jerk back, though it was her first instinct.

  “Okay, that was just…” Sawyer moved in front of her. He looked at the playbook, then lowered it by his side and stared into her eyes. The air thickened around them and she could feel every thump of her heart. “What a perfect angel you are, Cecily.” He said it so tenderly, his smile close-lipped but full of joy.

  “You dear romantic boy,” she said, all out of instinct because thoughts were getting fuzzy.

  He leaned in and kissed her, a soft kiss with his lips barely parted. The pressure of his lips increased for a delicious moment, and then they were gone. A quick, simple kiss, but when his mouth left hers, she felt its absence so strongly that she couldn’t think about anything else for a couple seconds. Her breath was stuck somewhere in her lungs and her lips still tingled, living the sensation over and over again. Heat wound through her body, her hands itched to reach out and touch him. And then she remembered she was supposed to. She ran her fingers through his hair and felt the whisper of his breath on her wrist as he exhaled.

  “Wow, that was good,” Wendy said from the front, breaking Brynn from her trance.

  Brynn stepped back and swallowed, but her throat wasn’t working right. Sawyer’s eyes never left hers, and one corner of his mouth curved up in a smug, self-satisfied way.

  “It was all right, I suppose,” Brynn said, working to keep her voice steady. She crossed her arms and shrugged. “For a first-timer, anyway.”

  That only made Sawyer’s smile grow wider.

  Brynn couldn’t help but watch Sawyer as he jumped off the stage. Funny how she’d dreamed of kissing him all the time in high school, but her fantasy wasn’t even close to the real thing. Her heart felt like it’d just been wrung out and shoved back in her chest.

  And her scene with Leo was better. She was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that she closed her eyes and pretended it was Sawyer kissing her again.

  Nope. Nothing at all.

  Find your Bliss with Robin Bielman’s Kissing the Maid of Honor

  Sela grinned and moved up to place her order. A few minutes later she had
a cup of coffee—with cream and enough sugar to make her dentist cringe—and a spiced-apple oatmeal muffin. Her first bite into the breakfast treat garnered a, “Mmm.”

  She almost echoed that sentiment when Luke sat down across from her. Without invitation, his presence thrilled her. He wore a long-sleeved blue waffle shirt that stretched nicely to accommodate his broad shoulders and chest. His face was clean-shaven, revealing a handsomeness that was seriously unkind to the rest of the male population and made it difficult for her to breathe normally.

  “Something wrong?” he said.

  Yes. You are too good-looking. “No. What are you doing here?”

  He lifted his coffee. “Needed my morning caffeine.” He reached over and broke off a piece of her muffin.

  “I meant what are you doing at my table. Don’t you have anything better to do this morning than bug me?”

  “Sela. Is that any way to talk to me after last night?”

  “Shh.” She cast a quick glance around the bakery. Mrs. Witt was pretending to read the newspaper at the table next to them. The mayor and his wife both waggled their fingers at her. “Don’t you remember how this town loves to know everything about everyone? And you, Mr. Hotshot Photographer, are at the top of the list right now. Once your story hits the newspaper, you can kiss your temporary freedom good-bye.”

  Luke slanted his chin down, but his eyes stayed right on hers. He smirked. “Attention can be a good thing.”

  “It can also be very bad.” She slouched down in her chair, hoping no one had been listening too closely. Something flashed across his face. Amusement? Interest? Desire? Her body went on high alert. This mutual whatever it was could not be investigated further in the middle of Crems!

  “I don’t know. Sometimes being bad can also be very good,” he said, sounding all sorts of tempting and dangerous.

  Find your Bliss with these new releases…