Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) by Lisa Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

 . . . hell, no. He was trying to find someone for his  . . . his  . . . damn, what was she? His best friend? No, more than that, really. At least, he wanted more than that. The sooner she was off the market the better. He had to get this matchmaker thing right.
    “What smells so good?” Jeanne sniffed her way toward the kitchen, suddenly sounding a lot less angry.
    Too bad they’d never get married. Their fights would never last long. He’d be able to smooth over any rough spots with her favorite foods.
    He untied his apron and tossed it on the kitchen table. “The latest appetizer for Elegant Eats. Wanna taste?”
    She popped her behind onto one of the stools at his tiny island. “I’ll hurt you if I don’t. I’m starving. I didn’t get dinner out of the deal. Just a few sips of wine.”
    “Well, let me get you a few sips more and a sample of what’s sure to be a hot new seller.” He scanned the kitchen. Seemed like every pot and pan he owned was out on the counter or sitting dirty in the sink. The disorder made him antsy. He pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge, poured her half a glass, and slid it in front of her.
    “Thanks.” She smiled at him, and he felt his Adam’s apple catch in his throat. Damn, she looked good in a deep-blue dress with a vee-neck, that was a bit lower than he’d like other men to be looking at. Her hair was wet and sticking to her cheeks, but she looked bright and beautiful.
    He pulled a clean plate out of his dishwasher, and piled a few appetizers on it. “Now close your eyes and see if you can guess what this is.”
    “I guess you missed the part when I said I was starving. Hand it over!”
    “Close your eyes.”
    She gave him her best annoyed look and closed her eyes.
    He stared at her beautiful face for a moment, wishing his could trace a finger down her cheek and under her chin. He figured her skin was cold from the rain. He was just the man to warm her up. He could spend hours running his fingers over her soft skin. Like hell you could. You’d never last that long.
    His throat clenched, and then he stabbed one of the coconut shrimp, dunked it in the butter-rum sauce and brought it to her lips. “Open wide.”
    Her lips parted, and he set the shrimp on her tongue. The look of ecstasy on her face felt like a kick in the gut. He wanted to make her look like that, and no, not with food.
    “Oh. My. God.”
    She licked her lips, and he had to look away. “Want more?”
    Her eyes flew open, and she grabbed the plate from him. “Where’s that dipping sauce? I could drink it. I swear our food is so much better than what we served back at The Hideaway.”
    He laughed and handed her the bowl of sauce. “Your Friday specials were always a hit. Don’t sell yourself short. We kept that place packed.” He could still remember the shock he’d felt when she’d showed up for an interview one day while he was tending bar. The owner, Butch, wanted to bring on a chef and start serving real food instead of the bar chum they offered. He and Jeanne had ended up working in the kitchen together. After so many years of avoiding each other, it was a surprise to have become such fast friends.
    And then to almost ruin it all with their short-lived romance.
    Jeanne poured the sauce over the shrimp and crossed her legs, which tugged the fabric of her dress higher up her thighs. Just when he thought her eyes were her best feature, she’d show off a flash of leg. Or bend over in a low-cut shirt. Truth was, he loved everything about her.
    She smiled at him. Another great feature. “You talk while I eat. Tell me how you made these.”
    He leaned against the counter across from her. “Wasn’t too hard. I soaked the shrimp in a lime garlic marinade and then dredged them through a coconut flour mix, broiled it, and made a rum butter sauce.”
    “Sure. Easy peasy.” She popped another shrimp in her mouth. “Poor Mark couldn’t enjoy this, what with his allergy and all.”
    Oh, she