A Pinch of Kitchen Magic
by
Sandra Sookoo
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Smashwords Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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A PINCH OF KITCHEN MAGIC 2012 by Sandra Sookoo
Published by New Independence Books.
Contact Information:
[email protected]
[email protected]
Visit me at sandrasookoo.com
Book Cover Design by David Sookoo
Portrait of a couple hugging while cooking in their kitchen
Wavebreak Media Ltd | 123rf.com
Publishing History
First Digital Edition, 2012
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Please note this title was formerly available as The Foodie’s Guide to Kitchen Magic.
Since the rights have returned to me, this story has been substantially re-edited plus I’ve added a lot of bonus content to make the story what it was originally intended to be.
I hope you enjoy the changes.
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Take one timid but curvy cook, Aidan, who discovers she can perform magic in the kitchen--literally. Add a healthy pinch of desire to become a famous cable TV chef. Stir in Matteus, the sexy skills assessor from the Institute of Magical Instruction. Sprinkle with mutual attraction. Add a dash of yum.
Except there’s one tiny problem: Aidan can't cook—not even boil water.
At some point in every woman’s life, she wishes she could do magic. But will Aidan cook up true love, a career... or just a disaster?
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He crooked his index finger and the fruit fell to the board with a soft thump. “Now you. Manipulate the knife and cut them in half.”
“I can’t.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She stared at the two red tomatoes. “I’ve only had this magic—this energy—for two days. I have no idea how to use it.”
“Thus the reason I’m here.” He moved behind her. “Let me show you. Also from now on, you are forbidden to use the word ‘can’t.’ It’s irritating and completely destroys any forward momentum or confidence.”
Excitement skittered down her spine while thoughts of forbidden dark places danced through her mind while his body brushed against her back. “What now?” The question was barely louder than a whisper as he held her hand suspended in the air.
“Become the object you wish to move. Think of nothing other than that object.” His words caressed her cheek, stirring a few escaped blonde tendrils of her upswept hair. “Convince the object it has nothing else better to do than your bidding.”
Aidan nodded, her throat too dry to utter words. If I force my magic to make him do my bidding, would he kiss me? That thought, too, was shoved to the very back recesses of her mind. Don’t be silly, Aidan.
When he released her hand, she nearly cried out—she felt the loss of his warmth that deeply. “Try again.”
“Okay.” She focused her eyes on the chef’s knife, she imagined herself filling the cool metal of the blade as she rested herself in the weighted balance of the handle. Swishing her wrist, a smile curled her lips when the knife levitated a few inches over the cutting board, wobbled for a brief second or two, and then inexorably glanced off the side of the first tomato. The carving piece landed with a clatter on the cutting board. “Crap.”
“It will come. You just need to practice.” At the snap of his fingers, a bushel basket full of ripe, juicy tomatoes appeared on her cutting board at the snap of his fingers. “Again.”
“That’s not fair!” A knot of dread grew in her stomach. It may have well been a thousand tomatoes since she couldn’t slice even one.
“Nothing in life is. When you have mastered the art of cutting the tomatoes in half, call me.”
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Dedication
To all my loyal readers who not only buy my books but also tell others about them, share my links on social media and generally encourage me to keep on writing even when things are tough. I couldn’t do what I do without you. Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart.
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Chapter One
It Started with a Spark
“Who the hell are you?” Aidan demanded and retreated behind the kitchen island putting it between her and a strange man. Just two minutes before he’d materialized out of thin air, she’d managed to set a casserole on fire, scorched a potholder, and splattered the inside of the microwave with the remains of a cheese soufflé.
The man before her was gorgeous: short chestnut hair curled just to his collar, eyes the color of a turbulent storm-tossed sea, and not to mention he possessed a body every actor in Hollywood wants. He exuded so many pheromones, Aidan fully expected women from two states away to beat down her door any minute.
A dark glossy brow cocked with inquiry. “I’m your condemnation or your redemption. Either way, your life is about to change.”
She clutched a dishrag to her chest, struggling to calm her frantic heartbeat. “What do you want with me?”
“My name is Matteus.” The corners of his mouth tilted up in a slow smile. “I desire nothing more than to teach you how to channel your magical energy. If you refuse my instruction, you will eventually destroy yourself and those around you. The choice is yours.”
Aidan considered her options. She glanced from the charred rag in her hands to the man on the other side of the butcher block island. A sigh signaled her imminent surrender of the situation. He was right: she had a choice and it didn’t involve tangling with some sort of magical hottie. She might not know a lot of stuff about that realm but she knew enough to suspect this man was way more powerful than she could handle. “Are you from the agency?” She tossed the rag in the sink, determined to put her attraction to the stranger from her mind. “I called them two hours ago.” Turning on the cold-water tap, she held her right hand under the flow, hoping to calm the angry red burn.
“If you’re referring to the Institute for Magical Instruction, then yes. I’m here to assess your skill level.”
“Good, because I have to tell you, I almost burned the kitchen down—again. I have no idea how.” He was directly behind her, so close his breath whispered over her cheek, so close she came perilously close to losing her train o
f thought. She frowned when he reached around her to turn off the faucet. “I don’t understand this power, this electricity, that’s inside me.”
“Obviously.”
She ignored his comment. “It’s creepy and it manifests itself at the most inopportune times.” Her cheeks warmed at the remembrance of the silverware drawer that had spewed its contents at her that morning.
“It doesn’t; you’ve just chosen not to recognize it before now.”
“Annoying.”
“Factual. First you must understand what the power is that you possess.” He gripped her shoulders and then turned her around to face him. “It’s not electricity, though it may feel like that feat of nature at times. It’s more like a relative to telekinesis.” He took one of her hands in his. Matteus dropped his gaze to her palm before slamming it back to hers. “You burned yourself trying to control the energy current, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Aidan licked her dry lips and nodded. “I was attempting to make pizza. As soon as I dumped the ingredients for the dough into the bowl, I felt a tingling in my fingertips. After that, a spark flew from my finger and zapped my palm.” Her skin prickled as he continued to hold her hand in his. He was close enough to her that she could smell his unique scent: a mixture of the air just before a rainstorm and sweet basil.
Oh man! She had a weakness for the Italian herb. So much so, she kept two ten inch pots of the aromatic plant just outside her back door.
“This is why I’m here.” He massaged her hand with nimble fingers then blew on her pale ivory skin.
She shivered at the light touch, but the pain from the burn ebbed. “Was that magic?”
“Perhaps. Let’s start at the beginning.” He released her to glance around. “I’m assuming you are very much into the kitchen arts?”
Aidan followed his gaze. What did he think of the bunches and bundles of dried herbs hanging upside down on one wall? “Let’s say I’m enthusiastic about cooking. I’d love to be a world famous chef one day.” She rolled her eyes when he gave her an intense look. “I’m what’s known as a foodie, but that doesn’t mean I can cook, it just means I’m a big fan.”
“You’re a woman, not a device made to cool a room.”
“Oh, brother.” To escape his smoldering glance, she turned her attention to her burn. She marveled at her hand. The injury was gone, the skin smooth and unmarred. “That’s cool.”
“You’re welcome. Why do you continue to attempt assembling meals if you’re not good at it?”
She stifled a sigh. He’d be difficult. “I enjoy it. I try to cook but usually end up ordering take out.” She stood rooted to the floor near the sink. “I follow directions; I read the recipes thoroughly before beginning, yet every time something disastrous happens. My mind is caught up in fuzzy thoughts of things I’ve never seen. Fantastic places, colorful foods, or exotic people.” She swallowed. “Or sometimes in my dreams, I can almost taste different foods, feel the cloth of the clothing people wear or even hear their countries of origin in their voices except I’ve never seen or met any of these people or places.”
Matteus was silent as he scanned the utensil-cluttered countertops. His gray eyes were no less intense than when he studied her. “I see.” He ran a fingertip through a dusting of flour on the top of the butcher block. “When did your awareness of magic begin?”
“On my thirtieth birthday, two days ago.”
“And?”
“My Aunt Hettie told me long ago if I exhibited signs of other-worldliness, I should call the Institute. After it happened, I called the number she made me commit to memory when I was twelve.” She frowned. “She’s a witch, isn’t she? She never would answer me directly when I asked.”
“With is a broad term.” His lips twitched. “I remember Hettie. She’s a great teacher. I took one of her summer classes on Astral Projection. She’s a very insightful woman and the Institute was sad to see her go.”
“You know her?” The anxiety that gripped her chest melted away. She drifted toward the island. He couldn’t be all that stuffy if Hettie had allowed him to strike up a friendship. “I miss her.”
“I did know her at one time. I’m sure her sudden departure to Europe was a shock.” He stroked his long slender fingers along the shiny purple skin of an eggplant before moving on to poke a garlic bulb.
Mmm. Now there’s a guy who probably knows exactly how to touch a woman to make her feel shivery and warm. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind. “Teaching magical subjects was a hobby for her.” Aidan shrugged. “She always said when she retired she’d teach the French a thing or two about cooking. I guess she’s making good on the promise. She was the real whiz in the kitchen. Sadly, I didn’t inherit her skill.”
“Only because you refuse to acknowledge your magical gift.”
“Yeah, right.” She nibbled on a bit of green pepper. “Aunt Hettie’s first love was cooking, then gardening. I’m afraid I don’t have the same passion that she does, but I hope she’s having a good time. She deserves to find happiness.” She caught the wistful tone in her own voice. As she chewed the bitter pepper, she silently berated herself for being too emotional.
“So do you.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Knowing Hettie, it’s a wonder she hasn’t made the international news yet.” Matteus’s gaze fell on her once more then he shook himself as if he’d fallen into a trance of sorts. “Enough of the pleasantries. Let’s get started.” He clapped his hands. “Show me what you can do with your magic thus far.”
Aidan reeled at the abrupt change in topic. “All right, but don’t blame me if you burst into flame or end up with some sort of food all over you.” She scrunched up her nose in concentration, flicking her right wrist, fingers extended. When nothing happened, she narrowed her eyes at a basket of tomatoes and wiggled her fingers in an effort to make the red fruit rise into the air.
Nothing happened. The basket remained in quiet repose.
Matteus cleared his throat. “Might I make a suggestion?”
Annoyed, she glanced up to find him alarmingly close to her. “Okay.”
“You are trying too hard.”
“That doesn’t help me at all.” She glared at him. He was too handsome. She didn’t trust handsome men. Especially men whose jeans hugged their legs and rear in all the right places. “Not a bit.” The skin of his forearms beckoned to her from his rolled up shirt sleeves. Really, he’s just too good looking to take seriously.
Why couldn’t the Institute have sent over a balding, middle-aged hairy man with a paunch and a dead tooth? She wished they had because she knew her skills assessor could be a severe distraction. From what, Aidan, crappy magic and bad cooking? That might be a great change.
Hush up, she told her bossy conscience. Aidan glanced again at his toned forearms, the sprinkling of light brown hair over taut muscle and her stomach tightened with unfamiliar longing. It had been a long time since she’d had a man in her life—a very long time, and considering her last guy went stark raving mad at the end of the relationship, she didn’t want to get involved in another.
“Um…” What could she say except agree with him? She shivered as she swept her gaze over his chest to his trim waist, then lower still to the jeans that were so tight she could almost imagine his…
Her cheeks burned at the thought. “Oh my.” She could definitely make an exception for him.
Matteus sighed and rolled his eyes. “Watch me.” He lifted his right hand. “Use the energy that resides inside you. It’s a matter of simple control and designation.” With the tiniest movement of his wrist, he coaxed two tomatoes from the basket to hover above the cutting board. “Like this.” He crooked his index finger and the fruit fell to the board with a soft thump. “Now you. Manipulate the knife and cut them in half.”
“I can’t.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She stared at the two red tomatoes. “I’ve only had this magic—this energy—for two days. I have no idea how to use it.”
“Thus the reaso
n I’m here.” He moved behind her. “Let me show you. Also from now on, you are forbidden to use the word ‘can’t.’ It’s irritating and completely destroys any forward momentum or confidence.”
Excitement skittered down her spine while thoughts of forbidden dark places danced through her mind while his body brushed against her back. “What now?” The question was barely louder than a whisper as he held her hand suspended in the air.
“Become the object you wish to move. Think of nothing other than that object.” His words caressed her cheek, stirring a few escaped blonde tendrils of her upswept hair. “Convince the object it has nothing else better to do than your bidding.”
Aidan nodded, her throat too dry to utter words. If I force my magic to make him do my bidding, would he kiss me? That thought, too, was shoved to the very back recesses of her mind. Don’t be silly, Aidan.
When he released her hand, she nearly cried out—she felt the loss of his warmth that deeply. “Try again.”
“Okay.” She focused her eyes on the chef’s knife, she imagined herself filling the cool metal of the blade as she rested herself in the weighted balance of the handle. Swishing her wrist, a smile curled her lips when the knife levitated a few inches over the cutting board, wobbled for a brief second or two, and then inexorably glanced off the side of the first tomato. The carving piece landed with a clatter on the cutting board. “Crap.”
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