Borrowing Trouble by Stacy Finz Read Free Book Online Page A

cooks.
    He pulled out his laptop and was about to check his email when Lina escorted Sloane into the kitchen.
    â€œYou still willing to feed me?” she asked and looked a little sheepish.
    â€œAbsolutely. Grab a seat at the island.”
    He pulled out what was left of the frittata and fruit salad from the refrigerator, made up a plate of the appetizers, and started heating everything.
    â€œI don’t think I can stand another Bun Boy burger, and I’ve been living off dinners at the Ponderosa,” she said.
    â€œWe’ve got limited options.” It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her to this great Indian restaurant he’d discovered in Glory Junction, but stopped himself. “If you’re willing to drive a half hour there are a couple of good places in Glory Junction.”
    â€œThat’s what Jake was saying. For a small town the Ponderosa is phenomenal and the fries at the Bun Boy can’t be beat, but I like a little variety. In fact I’d kill for sushi or a bánh mì .”
    He liked a woman who was passionate about food. Hell, if he didn’t watch it, he could really like her. Beautiful, nice to talk to, and not afraid to eat. Half the women in LA were anorexic, and the other half lived on protein drinks because they considered sitting down to a meal a time suck. He pulled her plate out of the oven, added a scoop of the fruit, wiped the edges, and placed it in front of her with a mock flourish.
    â€œSo what were your favorite restaurants in HelLA?” he asked, and cocked his hip against the counter to watch her eat. Today she had her hair tied back in a ponytail, which kind of did it for him. Sporty and a whole lot sexy.
    â€œThere were so many. Pizzeria Mozza of course; Mexicali Taco and Co.; Picca.”
    He nodded his head in agreement, although he thought Kiriko was better than Picca.
    â€œLet’s see,” she continued. “Gjelina, Lucques, Langer’s . . . ah, the pastrami . . . Hunan Mao and my favorite, Pig and Tangelo.”
    Before he could stop himself, Brady blurted, “That was my place.”
    â€œPig and Tangelo? The best, right?”
    Apparently she thought he meant his place to eat. He kept quiet. A quick search on the Internet and she’d know in an instant, but why advertise? The greatest thing about Nugget was that he could hide in plain view—as long as word didn’t get back to LA, where six degrees of separation really did exist.
    â€œThis is good,” she said with her mouth full. “Really good.”
    â€œGlad you like it.” He searched the refrigerator to see if any of the chocolate pots de crème were left and found one hiding in the back behind the milk. In a mixer, he whipped cream, spooned a dollop onto the chocolate, and slid the ramekin and a spoon to her. “Try this.”
    She dipped the spoon in, held it up to her mouth and licked. It about drove him crazy.
    â€œMy God, this is good. If you leave it here, I’ll eat the whole thing and then I’ll need a nap.”
    He shrugged. “So, take a nap.”
    â€œI have to go back to work.” Sloane pushed the dish toward him right before Connie came over the radio, saying something about an 11-84 near the high school.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Brady asked.
    â€œThey need me to direct traffic.” She hopped off the stool. “Must’ve been a fender bender. I hate to dine and dash without doing my dishes . . .”
    â€œDon’t worry about it.” He waved her off, happy that it wasn’t anything more serious.
    Â 
    By the time he got home the sun had started to set. Brady sat in the van for a few seconds watching color paint the sky. They’d had an unprecedented number of clear nights. But it was cold when he got out. Sloane’s police SUV was parked in its usual spot. She’d beaten him home. Now didn’t that sound funny?
    He was halfway to the porch when she came jogging