A Pinch of Passion (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 2) Read online

  A Pinch of Passion

  a Recipes for Love novel

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelly Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * Cover photo by Lindee Robinson Photography

  Edits by Brooke of Show Me Edits

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Dear Baker

  Passion Pillow Cookie Recipe

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading.

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  About the Author

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  Chapter 1

  Someday, someone will look at me like I’m everything they’ve been searching for their entire life...

  That was the entry Allie Parks had written in her planner on January 1 when all responsible people wrote down their wishes and dreams … right after they planned their year and outlined their professional goals. Possibly after highlighting monthly meetings and putting in daily accountability targets. As the chief operating officer of Luxe Resorts, she had little wiggle room for failure. In all honesty, she couldn't make one misstep because she had invested most of her money in the property at Timberline, and she refused to go bankrupt.

  She sat at a corner table in the dining room and glanced around the restaurant. It was an upscale lodge with its high-timbered ceilings, antler chandeliers, and wood-inlaid walls depicting all the major mountain peaks in Colorado.

  She flipped through the pages until she reached June and checked off the items she’d accomplished that morning. She might not have found her prince, but she resolved the linen problem. She touched the frayed tablecloth and heaved a sigh of relief.

  At the Wharton School of Business, she had a professor who never stopped talking about the Pareto Principle and how it held true for just about everything in life. But it didn’t work here in Timberline, Colorado. She’d exhausted eighty percent of her time and energy to get twenty percent satisfaction, rather than the other way around. But at least it was ironed out—no more see-through towels, threadbare sheets, or frayed tablecloths.

  Resolution occurred with good old greenbacks. In her experience, money motivated most people, and Starr Linens was no exception. Dan, the owner, dug in his heels until they settled a lucrative deal. It was more than she expected, but less than she was willing to pay.

  “Negotiating linen costs is not the hill I want to die on.” She checked the item off her list and looked up from the table just in time to see her brother, James, lead his girlfriend, Danielle, through The Lodge. It was the restaurant Allie hoped would earn them enough accolades to put them on the culinary map.

  While linens were important, cuisine was tantamount to success. A Luxe resort wasn’t luxe if the food wasn’t Michelin Star worthy.

  “Ah, new love…” she sighed as they approached holding hands. “I’d settle for old love. Hell, at this point, I’d accept any love.”

  “It sounds like you need a cat or … maybe a trip to Heartbeat,” Danielle turned to James. “This time, you’re invited to go clubbing with us.”

  Allie laughed. She was glad Danielle and James had worked out their differences and realized that love was the only truth they needed to know. Before seeing her brother with Danielle, she wouldn’t have believed there was a perfect person for anyone, but James was genuinely happy he’d found “the one.”

  He pulled out Danielle’s chair so she could sit, and he took the one next to her. “An invitation to Heartbeat would matter about as much as it did the last time. I’d come regardless. You’re my girls, and I protect what’s mine.” He leaned over and kissed Danielle square on the lips.

  Allie stuck her finger in her mouth and gagged. “Don’t torture me with your affection.” She wasn’t a busybody, but after James and Danielle broke up, she played her hand at being cupid, just once, and it seemed to work out. She’d lured them both to Heartbeat, the hottest new club for hookups, and then disappeared, leaving them to figure it out on their own.

  Her phone rang, and she looked at the screen. “And the hits keep coming,” she groaned. “Sorry, but I have to take this if we intend to serve food at the resort.” She jumped up and walked around the corner into a private dining room.

  “Allie Parks,” she answered.

  For the next ten minutes, she heard every reason from “out of stock” to “out of season” for why she couldn’t have what she wanted when she requested it.

  “How much is it going to cost me?” she asked.

  The man on the other end spouted off a ridiculous percentage increase.

  “Not on your life. I’ll pay two percent and the expedited delivery charges. Take it or leave it.” She hated it when people thought they could bulldoze her. She might have been petite at five-foot-three, but she had the inner strength and fortitude of a T-Rex.

  She hung up and headed back to the table. The clickety-clack sound of her heels hitting the tile floor echoed through the almost empty restaurant.

  “Sorry about that.” She checked off another item and closed her planner. “We’re squared away on sheets and produce.”

  Danielle, or Dani as her brother had nicknamed her, bounced in her seat. “That’s wonderful news. How did you get the linen guy to agree?”

  Allie sat up and smiled. “I told him I’d meet him in the alleyway on delivery days for a quickie.”

  James’ jaw dropped open, and Dani cocked her head.

  “Kidding. I offered him more money. Obviously, I hit the sweet spot, or I drove him crazy, and he agreed to the deal just to get rid of me.” She picked up her planner and stuffed it into her bag. “How about lunch?”

  No sooner had she sat down, Flynn, the kitchen manager, walked out with a bottle of red wine.

  “Good afternoon. Thanks for coming in to sample the new menu. I’ve paired today’s choices with a nice dry Cabernet.” He poured a splash into James’ glass and waited for his approval. James swirled and took a drink before passing it to Dani to taste.

  After a sip, she said, “It’s not Pride Reserve but definitely better than boxed wine.”

  When he moved around the table to pour Allie a glass, she shook her head. “None for me, I’ve got to hit the road soon.” A feeling of giddiness welled up inside her. “I’m looking at a place to buy since I don’t have a boyfriend to crash with.” She eyed her brother, who’d recently abandoned living with her at their father’s vacation home in order to live with Dani. “I need to get out of Dad’s house. It’s too big and lonely to stay in all by myself.”

  “You should move into the little apartment attached to my offic
e until something ideal presents itself,” Dani offered.

  James shook his head. “No, she can’t.” His eyes pleaded with Dani. “Sometimes, that’s the only place I can go to steal a kiss from you.”

  Allie watched her brother and Dani interact. They were two halves to a whole. Would she ever find her perfect half, or was she already too much on her own? Someone once described her as a thousand-pound explosion stored in a five-gallon keg.

  Flynn’s sous chef, Molly, arrived with the starter and set the tiny plates in front of them.

  “To begin, we have wild salmon tartare with sun-gold tomatoes, haricot vert, pressed cucumber, with a tomato consommé.”

  “Fancy,” Allie said and took a bite. “It’s good, but what sets it apart from the other fine dining experiences in Timberline?”

  Molly laughed. “There are no high-end restaurants in this town. You have to cross into Aspen for that.”

  “True,” James offered. “But what makes us different from anyone within a hundred-mile radius?”

  Molly pressed her hands down the front of her blinding white chef’s jacket. “Everything is organic. We purchase locally when we can. Just wait until you get to the main course. I’ve got a venison steak that will melt in your mouth.”

  “Oh, good, wild game.” Allie smiled and tried not to look like she might become sick. She’d rather eat canned pet food than gnaw on a chunk of Bambi. It didn’t matter how they cooked it; deer meat never tantalized her taste buds.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the second course.” Molly turned and walked away.

  As soon as she left, Allie reached for her bag. “Sorry to eat and run, but I’ve got to go to the place I’m trying to buy.”

  “Where is it?” James pushed away his nearly empty plate.

  “It’s on Pine Bluffs in a building called Evergreen. Get ready, because I’m sure it will need some of your magic.” Her brother was a master craftsman, and he had the skills to turn a piece of coal into a diamond in record time.

  He pointed at her. “Are you wearing that?”

  She stood and looked down at her Chanel suit and Louboutin heels. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “Just hand over your checkbook and let the realtor write in the amount she wants to earn. You can’t negotiate a fair price when your shoes probably cost more than her mortgage.”

  He had a point. She glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she could drive back to her father’s and change into something nice that didn’t shout empty my bank account.

  “You’re right. I’ll switch outfits, and then head over.”

  “Take Dad’s old Jeep instead of the Porsche.”

  “You wound me with your brand shaming.”

  He shrugged. “No use arriving with a flashing, neon sign that says, ‘I can pay what you’re asking.’”

  “You and I both know I can’t.”

  “But the real estate agent doesn’t.”

  “Whatever.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You two be good,” she said, moving past them. “Tell me if the menu is up to par.”

  She rushed to her SUV and headed home to change. As she approached the house, she laughed. Her father, who spent his summers on the golf course in Palm Springs, called it their winter cabin, but it was twelve thousand square feet of pure luxury, not the tiny stacked log structure that the word cabin implied. The only reason he kept the place was because her mother didn’t get it in the divorce, and it was paid off.

  She raced inside and changed into black slacks, a pink silk blouse, and Kate Spade loafers. She refused to dress down completely. There had to be an entry point to the multi-million-dollar building, and she wouldn’t want to appear under-qualified either.

  The little detour to change her clothes put her behind schedule. She climbed into her father’s old Jeep like her brother suggested. Old wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t even out of warranty, but it had seen some four-wheeling and had a rode hard look about it with its scarred rims and dented quarter panel.

  She whipped down the long winding driveway and turned onto the highway. If she pushed the speed limit, she could make up a few minutes. Someone once told her that early was on time and on time was late. Though she always had a lot on her plate, respecting other people’s schedules was important.

  Reaching to grab her favorite lipstick from her purse, she swerved and slightly crossed over the line. The car coming her way laid on the horn and offered an unpleasant gesture. She over-corrected, sending the Jeep into a fishtail and causing her heart to skip a beat at the near-miss.

  “No shade of red is worth dying for.” She took a few deep calming breaths, but her heartbeat jolted when she saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

  “Not now.” She mentally counted her most recent tickets and wondered how many points she could lose on her license and still be allowed to drive. “How fast was I going?” she asked out loud. She looked down at the speedometer and realized she was traveling at close to twenty miles over the limit, and that was a six-point violation. “I’m so screwed.”

  She slowed down and pulled to the side of the road. A thousand thoughts passed through her mind, but the loudest was, how can I get out of this mess?

  In the mirror, she watched the police officer in the cruiser behind her. She knew how this worked. He would sit there a few minutes and make her sweat. No doubt, the license plate was already running through the system to be sure the car wasn’t stolen. She said a silent prayer hoping the registration was up to date.

  As she waited for him to stroll to her window, she considered her options. She could cry, but the last time she did that, the officer handed her a Kleenex and a ticket.

  She could undo another button on her blouse and try to woo him out of a citation, but most chickens had bigger breasts than she did.

  She could say it was a restroom emergency, but dysentery was no joking matter. When they’d been looking at a site in Mumbai, she experienced food poisoning. It was one reason they didn’t take over the property. The restaurant had been closed down several times for health violations, and a resort would never recover from having the reputation of making people ill. Nope, she wouldn’t lie about a bathroom issue.

  She considered using humor, but the only police officer joke she knew was, what do you call it when a prisoner takes his own mug shot? A cellfie. That would probably get her thrown in jail for having criminally bad taste.

  She could fake sick and say she was on her way home to rest, but if he looked at her driver’s license, it would show a Breckinridge address, which was exactly the opposite direction she was heading.

  Note to self … update all legal documents.

  She watched as the officer climbed out of his cruiser. He was tall, dark, and deadly, or at least his expression was. This would be bad—really dreadful.

  Chapter 2

  Officer Marco Rossi watched the Jeep fly past him. His handheld radar gun clocked the SUV going seventy on a fifty mile-per-hour stretch of highway. When he ran the plates, they belonged to an Alistair Parks. In his experience, a name like Alistair came with a big bank account and an attitude to match.

  He kept his right hand close to his sidearm as he approached the driver’s window. These days, he couldn’t be too careful. Crime had no address, and even though he worked in Aspen, they had their share of problems.

  He saw her reflection in the side mirror. This was no Alistair unless her parents had been hoping for a boy and went with the name, anyway. Sitting behind the wheel was a drop-dead gorgeous redhead—probably Alistair’s trophy wife.

  He moved to the driver’s window, which she’d already rolled down. “Good afternoon, are you in a hurry?”

  She pulled her lips into a smile. It wasn’t a natural one, but a smile that forced itself on her face. He couldn’t blame her; she was getting a ticket, and that never brought joy to anyone. In all his years in law enforcement, he’d never been thanked for a citati
on.

  “Was I speeding?” She batted her lashes.

  “If you don’t know how to read the speedometer, you probably shouldn’t be driving. You were going seventy.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Surely, I wasn’t going that fast. I mean, that’s twenty over the speed limit. A girl could lose her license for that.”

  “It would appear you’re familiar with the penalties.” He glanced inside the Jeep. It was tidier inside than outside. The mud-caked rims looked like she’d taken the SUV for a jaunt in the woods. “I’ll need your license, registration, and proof of insurance, please.”

  She let out a heavy sigh and reached into the glove compartment to get the paperwork. She spilled her bag onto the front seat and rummaged through the mess to find her wallet.

  For a woman who, at first glance, seemed put together, she appeared disorganized or at least ruffled. A book on her seat caught his eye. On the front was a large heart with the words Recipes for Love.

  She turned toward him and handed over the documents he’d requested.

  “Allie Parks. Is this your husband’s Jeep?”

  Her frown pinched her brows so tightly that tiny fissures formed between them. “I’m not married. The car is my father’s.”

  He glanced back to the book on the passenger seat. “Ah, that explains the self-help manual.”

  Her eyes whipped toward the book. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Sure, you don’t. Just like you didn’t know you were speeding. What about crossing the line and almost taking out the Lexus back there?” He turned his head to look down the road. “If you’re looking for love, you’ll never find it dead.”