by Sharon Kleve
Apple Pie to Die For
Sharon Kleve
Table of Contents
Title Page
Excerpt from Apple Pie to Die For
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Excerpt from Apple Pie to Die For
THE THOUGHT OF TASTING Anderson overrode those thoughts and I felt my face flushed with desire. My breathing increased and my eyes wandered to his mouth-watering lips. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about what it would be like to be taken by Anderson on any surface, including the floor, the closet, and especially in my four-poster queen-sized bed.
His stepped closer, took my face in his hands, and firmly pressing his lips to mine, he slid past my teeth to stroke my tongue, once, twice, again and again, until my hands were locked in the fabric of his shirt. We’d kissed before, but nothing as hot, urgent, and addictive.
With a husky sound, I released his shirt, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him back the kiss taste for taste, and need for need. I wanted to be inside his skin, to wrap him around me, to sink into him until I forgot who I was, and of course my secret. My secret. I pulled away, took a deep breath, and put the counter between us.
Copyright
Apple Pie to Die For
Copyright © Sharon Kleve 2018
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First eBook Edition February 2018
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
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Anthologies
Best of Christmas Romances 2013
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The Love List Collection
Forever Christmas Collection
Places to See Collection
Christmas Romance 2015
Christmas Wish Collection
Handmade for Christmas Series
The Cinderella Body Club Collection
Sunset Beach Romance Series
The Best Christmas Romance of 2016
Sweet Christmas Romances 2017
The Sage McGuire Romance Series
Chapter One
“HELLO, MARJORIE.”
“Skittles...” I blurted and made the sign of the cross before turning around. I recognized Anderson Swift’s voice, but I had been jumpy ever since the break-in at my house. After my heart settled, his silky voice flowed over me like warm cinnamon glaze as my stomach did a slow, lazy flip at the sight of him in my bakery.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sounded sincere but still smiled. “Skittles is an interesting way to react to being startled. Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Anderson. Yes, everything is okay. I’ve been trying to cut back on cursing. Skittles seemed like a nice word to replace shit, crap and such.”
Anderson nodded as if that made perfect sense. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He was probably used to the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they caught a glimpse of him. He was too beautiful not to stop and take a second look. Well defined sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The fair complexion went well with his ocean-blue eyes and sandy blond hair. I, on the other hand, had long dark hair, blues eyes, and was a mere five foot six to Anderson’s six foot seven.
The buzzer sounded from one of a dozen, double-rack baking ovens in the bakery. “Excuse me. I have to take the pies out.” I opened the oven door, slid out twelve pies and placed them on cooling racks.
Everyone in my hometown of Petoskey, Michigan said, “Marjorie Vanhorn will go places,” once they tasted one of my pies. To Die for Pies was recently listed as a ‘must visit’ on the visitor's bureau website.
“Is that apple pie I smell?” The roughness of his voice was like being licked by a cat’s tongue—tantalizing.
“No. It’s is a new recipe, tart Northern Spy apple, and sweet peach. They’ve been selling like hot cakes.”
“Sounds delicious.” His eyes kept roaming back to my mouth. “I’d love a taste.”
Was he talking about my lips or the pie? The whole flirtation thing always confused me. I said the first thing that came to mind. “So, you want a pie?”
He stepped toward me and tapped his index finger to the tip of my nose in a sweet gesture. “You sure are pretty, Marjorie.”
My cheeks heated with his compliment. We had been friends and dated casually several times, but now Anderson was heavily pursuing me. He wanted to take our relationship to the next level—sex. But, I had a secret—something I couldn’t share with anyone.
He rested his hip against the counter, crossed one leg over the other, and added a flirtatious smile. “Will you go to dinner with me tonight?”
Before he could continue, I shook my head in regret. I didn’t move away because he smelled wonderful, a little bit citrusy. “I have a party to go to tonight.”
“Really? I like parties. I could be your date unless you already have one.” He cocked his head to the side.
“No, it’s a kid’s party.” It was very tempting to say yes. “I’ll be busy setting up, helping with the kid’s games we planned, and then cleaning up after. It wouldn’t be much fun for you.”
“Okay. How about tomorrow night?”
He was very persistent. “There’s a bake sale at the Presbyterian Church on Saturday. I’m donating twelve pies and the proceeds from the sale to the church. I have to stay late tomorrow night to make and then bake the extra pies.”
“But you’re Catholic. I’ve seen you at Sunday Mass.”
“It might not be my denomination, but there’s no reason why I shouldn’t help the people at the Presbyterian Church.”
He smiled and shook his head. “You know, I’ve never meant anyone like you before. Your generosity and willingness to help others are amazing.”
I didn’t see anything special about giving people my pies. It made them happy and I liked helping out.
“What about this weekend? We can go to church together on Sunday,” he suggested.
Church sounded harmless enough. “That would be nice. I can meet you there.”
“Why don’t I pick you up? We can have breakfast, and then go to church.”
“I have a project I’m working on that’s taking a lot of my free time. It would be easier if I met you there.” Not as much fun, though.
“Are you working on a new pie flavor? I’d be happy to be your taste tester.” He smiled, and a small dimple appeared on his cheek.
“Thank you for the offer, but I already have a taste tester.” One I wasn’t sure what to do with or how to get rid of.
The thought of tasting Anderson overrode those thoughts and I felt my face flushed with desire. My breathing increased and my eyes wandered to his mouth-watering lips. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about what it would be like to be taken by Anderson on any surface including the floor, the closet, and especially in my four-poster queen-sized bed.
His stepped closer took my face in his hands and firmly pressed his lips to mine. He slid past my teeth to stroke my tongue, once, twice, again and again, until my hands were locked in the fabric of his shirt. We’d kissed before, but nothing as hot, urgent, and addictive.
With a husky sound, I released his shirt, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him back the kiss taste for taste, need for need. I wanted to be inside his skin, to wrap him around me, to sink into him until I forgot who I was, and of course my secret. My secret. I pulled away, took a deep breath, and put the counter between us.
Anderson ran his tongue over his upper lip. “God. You taste even better than apple pie.”
“Now, that’s a compliment.” We both laughed.
“Your pies are the best in the state, maybe even the country,” Anderson said.
“Thank you, but I’ve only placed third during the last four contests and that’s never happened before.” And I was starting to figure out why.
“Are you using a different recipe?” Anderson stepped closer and gently wiped something off my nose with his finger. Probably flour. He was seducing me with his gentle touches.
“No. I always bake an apple pie for competitions and have never come away with less than a second place ribbon.”
“You’ve been in so many competitions over the years with your apple pie, all of the judges have already tasted it. Maybe it’s time to enter one of your other flavors?” He shrugged.
“Maybe...” There was only one common denominator at each competition—Eloise Snyder. Six months ago, Eloise was hired as a regional competition organizer. She had approached me and asked if she could have the recipe. I laughed and said, no, it was a well-kept secret. She wasn’t happy, but I had no idea how unhappy.
A moment later, there were three rapid knocks on the back door, a pause, and then two more.
Anderson’s eyebrows raised. “Is that some kind of code?”
“Yes. It’s Kelli Delaney. It’s her son, Joey’s birthday party tonight. I couldn’t transport everything in my car so she is stopping by with their truck.”
“I remember Joey. He’s a sweet kid. Too bad his father is such an asshole.”
“An abusive asshole,” I added.
“Yeah. I think the whole town knows now. Vega kept that dirty little secret well hidden.”
“Not anymore. Not anymore...” I murmured.
Anderson reached the door before me, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it. “Hi, Kelli.”
Kelli tentatively smiled. “Hi, Anderson.”
Kelli was my good friend and unfortunately married to Vega. I could tell by the way she wrapped her arms gingerly around her waist that her ribs were still sore. Her right eye was a little swollen but the color was fading from purple to yellow. Vega was a no-good, drunken, and abusive husband. Just thinking about what Kelli had gone through made my heart hurt. He had always been careful not to leave any visible marks on her. The last straw was when he beat her in front of their young son, Joey. Kelli pressed charges, he was arrested, and then she applied for a restraining order. Vega’s parents hired an attorney and after the arraignment, they posted his bail. They swore, their darling Vega couldn’t have done such a horrible thing. They changed their minds when Kelli showed them the photos the police took of the bruises.
I gave her a gentle hug. “How are you doing?”
“Good.” Kelli nodded. “I really appreciate you baking the pies for Joey’s party. He doesn’t know I’m throwing him a surprise party with all his friends and our family. He’ll be so thrilled.”
“I love Joey to pieces. I would do anything for him. Now, come see what I have for that special boy of yours.” When the news got out about what Vega had been doing to Kelli, a lot of the men in town wanted to strangle Vega—or worse.
I slipped my arm through Kelli’s and tugged her into the storage area and flipped on the overhead lights. Anderson followed us. Joey’s bright and shiny new bicycle was sitting in the corner with a large red bow attached. I had put it together myself. Kelli just stared at it, hugged her stomach harder as tears erupted from her eyes, and streamed down her pretty face.
“You bought Joey a bike?” she whispered.
I knew it wasn’t a real question so I remained quiet. Anderson moved forward and stood beside me. For one moment, I leaned into him for moral support.
Kelli ran her finger over the seat and then rang the little bell on the handlebars. “Joey is going to love this. His first bike...” her voice trailed off.
“It comes with training wheels, helmet, elbow, and knee pads.”
She abruptly stopped touching the bike, her face paled and stepped away from it. “I’m sorry, Marjorie, but Vega won’t let Joey have a bike. He doesn’t think Joey needs a bike or anything else...” her voice trailed off again.
I walked over to Kelli. “Vega doesn’t dictate what you can or can’t do any longer. You have a restraining order and all of your friends, and family will look out for you. You have nothing to worry about. He won’t ever hurt you again. I promise,” I reassured her.
“I know. I know.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I let that bastard get away with that crap. When did I become so weak?”
“That’s in the past. You have a wonderful future in front of you,” I continued to reassure her.
After a moment, she lifted her chin. “Damn it, you’re right! I’m not going to live in fear any longer. Besides, nobody has heard from him since his arraignment. I think he left town so he doesn’t have to pay child support. I don’t have his income coming in any longer, but I don’t care, we’ll manage just fine. My parents are being incredibly wonderful and understanding. They said if things got too tight we could move in with them.”
“We are all here for you and Joey.” I hugged her again. “Why don’t you give me your keys and Anderson and I can load everything in your truck.”
“Everything? You mean there is more than the bike?”
“Oh, yes. And I’m not the only one that is going to spoil that sweet boy. Turning five is a big deal.”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.” Kelli smile was radiant.
Between the three of us we loaded the little red bike and accessories, the pies, three different flavors of ice cream, a dozen silly bear-shaped balloons, a large stuffed fuzzy bear, a couple of interactive games, and a cute bear nightlight for his room—he was scared of the dark, thanks to Vega.
“I love you, Marjorie. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.” She squeezed me tight around the neck
. “Now, I’m running late. I need to get back in time to decorate, then pick Joey up from school, and ride around long enough for everyone to arrive. Mom and Dad are going to help and will let the guests in. Joey will go crazy when he sees everyone.”
I kissed her cheek and unlocked the door. “Get going now. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“You bet. Bye, Anderson.” Kelli said. She waved as she drove away.
Anderson gently brushed his finger down the bridge of my nose and then lowered his mouth for a soft, sinking kiss that tasted sweet and potent. “I’ve always known that you were special, but today confirms how truly kind you are. I’m going to keep asking to spend more time with you until you say yes and then I’m never letting go.”
My heart thudded in response to his emotional pledge. He was proving to be more irresistible by the minute. I stepped out of his embrace. “Did you still want a pie?”
“Yes. I’ll have Suzie ring up two for me. The guys back at the hospital will love me if I bring one to them too.”
When the medical examiner, Mr. Tortes announced his retirement two years ago, Anderson was appointed to the position and moved from New York City. He was dedicated, smart, liked by everyone, and more than easy on the eyes.
“Tell her the second one is on the house.” He raised his brow in a questioning manner. “It’s for helping Kelli.”
He nodded and was almost through the doorway when he turned. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Marjorie.”
“Oh, boy...” I muttered.
Anderson chuckled before he disappeared through the door.
My home was located five miles out of town, down a dirt road in the middle of a ten-acre apple orchard. The kitchen, with its modern appliances, was a wonderful place to experiment with new pie recipes and the large basement was spacious, soundproof and a great place to hold someone against their will—like Vega. He should never have broken into my house and threatened me. I would have to hurry and feed him, give him an extra dose of Xanax, and then leave for Joey’s birthday party.
Until I decided what to do with him, Vega would be my guest in the basement bathroom.