The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley) Read Free Page A

Terrance’s handsome face instead, and her trembling had changed into something else.
    She was still afraid of what he would say to her, of what he would ask, but there was also the white-hot anticipation of being in his presence again. The sight of his lean, rock-hard body in that black leather jacket and those faded designer jeans that hugged his muscular legs made her mouth water. Add in his military-cut black hair, bottle green eyes, and the wicked scar on the right side of his mouth, and it was all she could do not to jump him.
    It didn’t help that she was on a Man Fast, her first since she’d left him.
    And he was cooking for her. Right here in her kitchen.
    Her heart squeezed.
    And this no swearing thing? She must have lived in Dare Valley too long because she thought it was as cute as a greeting card.
    Selecting Rhett’s most expensive bourbon, she smoothed her hair down with her free hand and walked back into the kitchen, deciding not to fuss about the flannel pajamas—so sexy—and her lack of makeup.
    “At least someone has taste,” Terrance commented when she handed the bottle to him.
    “Rhett can drink the good stuff or rotgut,” she told him like he didn’t know. He’d been friends with Rhett and Mac Maven, the owner of The Grand Mountain Hotel where he was working as head chef, going on ten years now, three years longer than her friendship with the two men.
    “Well, I don’t let him drink the rotgut around me,” he said, stepping away from the stove and trickling some bourbon over the concoction.
    It caught fire, the wall of orange licking at the bottom of her microwave right above the stove, making her worry about the plastic melting, but since he didn’t seem concerned, she kept her mouth shut. He set the bottle aside and shook the pan, making the fire blaze to life again. When it died out, he searched in her cabinets for a spoon, and upon finding one, tasted the sauce.
    “How is it?” she asked.
    “Your cinnamon isn’t as intense as my special blend from Ceylon, but it does the job.”
    “I’m so glad you can suck it up down here in food purgatory,” she said dryly, producing the ice cream without him asking for it and reached into a cabinet for two blue bowls.
    “Salted caramel gelato,” he murmured. “I remember you liking ice cream.”
    “It’s one of my favorite indulgences.”
    “How can you eat this and nonfat yogurt?”
    She laughed at his playful shudder. “Eating nonfat yogurt gives me more leeway to eat fully loaded ice cream. It’s all about balancing out the calories.”
    “That diet logic is a load of bull— Aha, I caught myself again.”
    And when he smiled, the expression full of pride, her heart simply flew out of her chest and fell onto the floor in front of him. Like, here I am again. Remember me?
    Her heart had always gotten her into trouble.
    He spooned the ice cream out, making sure it resembled the most perfect sphere ever fashioned. Then he deftly slid the bananas onto the side and trickled the sauce over it. Even she could smell the cinnamon now, and her mouth watered.
    Dammit. Terrance had always known how to get to her.
    She took the bowl he handed her and led him to the small table in her dining nook, not wanting the formality of the dining room. He sat across from her, and as if on cue, they both took their first bite together. Caramel soaked into her tongue, followed by the coolness of cream, the punch of cinnamon, and the warm banana.
    “Yum,” she managed.
    Another one of Chef T’s famous mega-watt smiles, which she’d seen on TV more times than she cared to admit. Yes, she watched his show…she couldn’t help herself.
    He’d left the Peacock a scant month after their breakup. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d returned to New York City because of her. Soon after, he’d landed his own cable show, The Tattooed Chef, on her favorite food channel, and she’d been glued to the screen ever since.
    As a viewer, she could feed her