Scrumptious (24 page)

Marlene parked in front of the wide barn. No sign of life out front. She slid out of her car and eyed the cabin nervously. She didn’t want to be met at the door with a double-barreled shotgun.

Squaring the time off from work had been easy. Of course, she had been screwing up orders right and left for the past week, so Olivia might have been glad to see her go. Marlene’s indifference to the size of the steaks was becoming a problem. So was her inability to hire a grill cook. The hangovers weren’t helping either.

From the minute she’d found out Joe had left town, Marlene had begun to unravel. She’d fallen out of sync, and she couldn’t quite wrap her head around what was happening until her mother’s pointed revelations before the wedding. The final shoe had dropped during the ceremony.

She had gone to her father’s wedding because she’d caught a card on the river, but sitting in the church pew, she’d had a revelation. A terrifying, surprising, divine revelation.

She wasn’t angry with her father anymore.

Holding a lifelong grudge against him had given Marlene the perfect excuse to never fall in love. Without her resentment, she couldn’t remember what was so much fun about being alone. In the face of her mother’s calm joy in Richard and her father’s wedded bliss with Margaret, she couldn’t quite cleave to the belief that marriage caused misery anymore, damn it.

She was out of excuses.

Her parents had found love. Just not with each other. Maybe her father’s departure had only been a tragedy for Marlene. Maybe it had been the right thing for her mother and father. Had she actually believed that the best cure for the last guy was the next guy? She recognized it now as the hardcore bad girl enabling behavior that it was.

Her mother had evolved. Joe, holdout playboy and career lady-killer, had changed his tune. Unless Marlene wanted to be left behind, she needed to grow up too. It was time to let go of her bad girl persona and learn to love someone.

Like Joe.

Of course, there was every chance he was perfectly happy to leave her far behind him. He and his dad might be holed up down here throwing parties every night. Even as her brain spun out that thought, she knew it was another excuse. Joe had gone to his father. His
father
.

Marlene stepped away from the car. She hoped Joe and Frank had forged some peace. She also hoped Joe was waiting for her to catch up with him, and that he’d meant it when he said, “I’d never let a woman think I was going to stay unless it was true.” Marlene had played that memory over and over in her head on the long drive to Kentucky. Joseph Rafferty had said he wanted to stay. The thought had kept her from turning the car back around and heading north. It had to mean something. Pulling into the gravel driveway of the log cabin was the first thing that had felt right to her since she’d caught that card on the river. That had to mean something too.

GPS had gotten her to Kentucky, and now that she was standing on the front porch, she hoped love could take her the rest of the way home.

She peered into the kitchen through the top half of the open Dutch door and saw Joe, coming through the great room door. Were his eyes hot or cold? Blue or gray? The kitchen was dim and Marlene was afraid to look too closely. She was afraid she’d jump into his arms and take him straight down to the floor, and she had some things she wanted to say to him first. She hoped he would want to hear them. She opened her mouth to begin the speech she had prepared on the drive, but Joe held up his hand and said, “Shhh.”

Confused, she stepped back as he opened the lower door and stepped onto the front porch beside her. He took her hand and led her into the barn and up the stairs into the hayloft.

“I was just about to head back to Norton,” he said casually, pulling her down next to him on a bale of hay.

“You were?” she asked.

“Yup.”

She risked a sideways glance at him.

“It was time to do that apology thing again. Dad and I were discussing strategy.”

“Really?” She was amazed that he had covered that much ground with his father in a week.

“Dad is all for groveling and abasement. That’s what worked with my mother.” She raised her eyebrows. Whoa. Male bonding to the maximum. “And I figured the last time I apologized to you, you took it pretty easy on me. And then I got laid. That’s why I brought you up to the hayloft. Since you drove all the way to Kentucky, I’m feeling optimistic about my chances this time too.”

“Wait just a minute, cheffie boy
—
”

“Oh, say it again,” he whispered, leaning closer to her mouth.

Marlene braced both hands on his shoulders and held him off. “You are not apologizing first.”

“Talk fast.”

Marlene took a breath. Of sweet hay and warm Joe. She lost her train of thought.

“Too slow.”

Joe’s lips told her everything she wanted to know. It was so obvious to her now. She didn’t know how she had missed it. Joe gave her everything, held nothing back. He put it all in his kiss. Marlene felt humbled. But not that humbled. “I changed my mind,” she mumbled against his lips.

“What?” he asked, not pulling away but definitely startled. Marlene enjoyed his discomfiture.

“You can apologize first,” she said.

Joe clutched her so tightly to his chest that all she could breathe was him. He pinned her in the hay, but there was no need. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Joe looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m sorry I pulled a power play at the casino. I wanted to stay with you so much, I think I would have tried anything. But I’m even more sorry that I left when you told me to go. I thought you meant it.”

“And now?”

“Now? I don’t care.” She jerked underneath him, horrified, and Joe laughed. “Not that way, sugar. I don’t care if you mean it or not. I’m not leaving. I’m going to stick around as long as it takes to convince you that you love me too.”

Marlene gazed into Joe’s clear, blue eyes and discovered they weren’t hot or cold. They were warm. With love. For her.

The way her heart swelled with joy was even more satisfying than the way Joe’s body swelled against hers as he pressed her into the hay. She now had a new basis for comparison. Love was more satisfying than sex? Who knew? That opened up a world of possibilities.

Marlene reached up to pull Joe back down to her mouth. It was still there, the heat, the crazy communion, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted to be sure Joe was really going to stay.

“Hey, uh, there’s been some reorganization going on at Chameleon,” she said. “There’s a new…chef…in charge of the kitchen.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Me,” she said, supremely satisfied by Joe’s lack of surprise.

“About time.” He bent his head.

Marlene wasn’t getting anything accomplished on the bottom, so she wrapped her arms around Joe, threw one leg over his hip, and flipped him. He looked up at her, one eyebrow flying, wicked grin in place.

“You looking to take care of my meat again, sugar?” he asked, crossing his arms behind his head and getting comfortable underneath her in the hay. “I’m all yours.”

“Not exactly. I’m looking for a decent grill cook. Or a sauté cowboy. Interested?”

“You’ve got a job for me?” He was all business as he rolled to his knees.

Marlene was well aware that Joe was too good a cook to work the grill forever. He’d want something more. Maybe he wanted to start his own business. Hell, maybe he wanted to go to California after all. Whatever was on his mind, he looked awfully serious.

“I have a job offer for you too.” He reached into his jeans pocket. Held out something shiny. Very shiny. “Wife.”

Marlene had never seen this particular smile on Joe’s face. It was a variation of his wicked grin, but it was tender too. And fearless. He looked like a man who was ready to make a commitment.
Or
be
committed
, inner teenager muttered. Marlene banished her to her room. Forever.

“Marlene, will you marry me?” Joe asked.

“Are you kidding?”

“Hell no. Let’s do this right. Two objects in motion, colliding. We can work together, live together. Love together.” His eyes were solemn. “What do you say, cheffie girl? You in or out?”

Marlene looked at the sparkling diamond ring clasped in Joe’s fingers. The setting was smooth and flat. It wouldn’t catch on anything in the kitchen, she thought randomly. She held up her left hand, and he slid the diamond onto her finger.

“This was my mother’s ring. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you anything you want.”

“Mine.” She closed her fist.

“Mine,” Joe echoed, pressing her down into the hay.

Distantly, Marlene heard the front door of the log cabin shut with a resounding bang. She was glad Frank approved.

Marlene smiled into the eyes of the next guy, her last guy. When the right man wanted to stay, you didn’t send him packing.
You
let
him
stay
. Joe might have been ahead of her with this commitment stuff, but she was definitely catching up with him. She was right there with him now, that was for sure, kicking off her shoes, shucking her jeans.

Marlene pulled him back down into the hay and kissed him. Boy, was she ever with him on that.

I will always be grateful to chefs Corey Griffith and Alisa Huntsman of Nashville, Tennessee, for instilling in me a lifelong passion for food and inspiring me to go to culinary school. Without them, I might never have met my husband in class at the Culinary Institute of America. I also owe a debt of gratitude to the other chefs I’ve worked with over the years who continued my education. Y’all know who you are, and I thank you.

More heartfelt thanks to the members of the Western New York Romance Writers for their support, knowledge, encouragement, and enthusiasm
—
and for helping me brainstorm a reason a man might possibly say no!

Hugs to my parents and in-laws for their unwavering support. Kisses to my kiddies for bringing me flowers, drawings, and sculptures to perk up the long hours spent at my desk
—
and for being proud of me. Big love to Erin Kelly-Park, lifelong wingwoman, first reader, and go-to girl for nearly everything. Smooches to my foodie friend Melissa Cook for all the shared lunches and family happy hours. Love pats to my critique partners Natasha Moore and Alison Stone for being generous with their time and brilliant advice. A huge squeeze to my agent, Nalini Akolekar of Spencerhill Associates, for saying yes.

Every writer hopes for the Call. Thank you to the staff at Sourcebooks, particularly my editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, for loving my book as much as I do.

Amanda Usen knows two things for certain: chocolate cheesecake is good for breakfast and a hot chef can steal your heart. Her husband stole hers the first day of class at the Culinary Institute of America, so she married him after graduation in a lovely French Quarter restaurant in New Orleans. They spent a few years enjoying the food and the fun in the Big Easy before they returned to Western New York to raise a family. Amanda spends her days teaching pastry arts classes and her nights writing romance. If she isn’t baking or writing, she can usually be found chasing the kids around the yard with her very own scrumptious husband. Visit her at
amandausen.wordpress.com
if you’d like to chat about romance, writing, or recipes.