A Tablespoon of Temptation (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 1) Read online

  A Tablespoon of Temptation

  a Recipe for Love novel - Book One

  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

  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

  Chapter 26

  Dear Baker

  Forever Fudge Cake

  Forever Fudge Frosting

  Sneak Peek of A Pinch of Passion

  Thank you for reading.

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  Acknowledgments

  Need More Recipes for Love?

  About the Author

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  Chapter 1

  Danielle

  Danielle Morgan needed more than one breath of courage to exit her SUV. Today she needed two. There was no telling what waited beyond Trish’s door. Last weekend it was Gene Horowitz; Danielle’s surprise blind date. A date she was not prepared for.

  Two weeks ago, she walked in on kitchen sexy time between Trish and her husband Rob testing out the strength of their new granite island. Right then, she vowed to never eat at Trish’s unless it was takeout that went straight from the delivery person’s hands to the coffee table.

  Before Danielle could knock, her best friend opened the door and greeted her with a big smile. It was her I’ve-got-something-up-my-sleeve look.

  “You better not have another one of Rob’s cousins waiting for me.” She turned, thinking she still had time to get away, but Trish took her elbow and pulled her inside.

  “No one’s here but Rob.”

  “Is he decent?” Danielle cleared her throat. “Meaning, is he dressed?”

  Trish laughed. “Decent … no. Fully clothed … you bet.”

  Thank the heavens because there wasn’t enough bleach to get that kitchen scene washed from her memory.

  “You ready to go?” Trish picked up her purse from the hall table and looked over her shoulder. “Honey, I’m leaving.”

  Rob rushed around the corner and kissed her long and hard.

  “It’s not like she’ll disappear forever. We’re only hanging out for a few hours.” Since her bestie had found love, their girl time shrunk from several nights a week dining out and watching movies to a few hours on the weekend. She didn’t begrudge Trish’s happiness. It was simply that Danielle was lonely. She wanted love. Instead, she got visiting rights to Trish.

  She spun around and left the lovebirds on the doorstep to say their goodbyes.

  Back behind the steering wheel, she waited and waited and waited.

  Five minutes later, Trish skipped down the walkway like a teen after a tryst at Lookout Point. Her lips were red and bee-stung while her cheeks heated with a rosy blush.

  “Sorry about that. It’s a special day—our three-month anniversary.”

  Danielle rolled her eyes. “Tell me it’s special when you hit your three-year anniversary. I hope his kisses still make you weak in the knees.”

  Trish dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “You’re so jaded.”

  “I’m allowed to be.” She squeezed the steering wheel harder and watched the blood drain from her fingers. “Don’t forget that on my three-month anniversary, my husband wasn’t running to give me a kiss. He was in room 301 banging Ms. Bancroft.”

  “Not all men are like Chris.”

  Danielle looked at her blissfully happy friend. “You’re right. I can’t punish every man for his infidelity, or his stupidity, or his complete disregard for anyone but himself. I should blame myself for being so impulsive. Who marries a guy after a month of dating?”

  “We do. And sometimes it works out.” She cocked her head to the side. “Look at Cinderella. She got the prince after one dance, and one day you’ll hear the name Chris and say, ‘Who’?”

  “Let’s hope.” Seeing Trish happily married made Danielle happy, but it also made her miss the times when there was a man to warm her heart and her bed. “What are we doing today?” She pressed the ignition button, and her car purred to life.

  “It’s Swap Meet Saturday in Cedar Bluff.” Trish bounced in her seat like a kid with front row seats to her favorite band.

  “Thank God, I feared you’d set up another intervention.”

  Trish twisted to look at her. “Gene wasn’t an intervention. He was a—”

  “A disaster. The man wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and you know how I feel about that. It’s a sign of disrespect or dishonesty. Besides, he had bigger breasts than me.”

  “I can’t speak to the man boobs, but Gene is shy, not dishonest.”

  “They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and since I never saw his, I’m certain he’s soulless.” She drove out of Trish’s neighborhood and turned onto the highway to Cedar Bluff.

  “He’s got a soul. He also has an astigmatism and that makes him self-conscious.”

  “Too bad he didn’t have another ism like magnetism. The man was as exciting as a wet sponge. If this is what my dating life will be like, I’ll pass. How could you think I’d be interested in him?”

  Trish let out an exasperated breath. “You’re going to give me an aneurysm with your criticism. Cut me some slack. I’d never met him, but Rob said he was nice and decent looking.”

  “If you like trolls.”

  “Okay, I promise no more blind dates.”

  They pulled into the parking lot of Cedar Bluff High School and exited the car. “You need to promise to stop meddling in my life,” Danielle said.

  “You don’t have one unless you call working around the clock a life. You never take time for fun. You know what they say … all work and no play—”

  “Keeps me out of bankruptcy. I’m saddled with debt, and fun doesn’t pay the bills.”

  “Fine. What’s happening with the big takeover?”

  “Argh, they’re starting with the sweeping changes already—instead of The Pines, it’s called Luxe Resorts.”

  “Ooh, sounds posh.”

  They entered the flea market and walked down the first aisle.

  “Sounds scary to me. First, the name goes and next, the staff.”

  “You’re good at your job. I don’t imagine you’ll have much to worry about.”

  Trish would never understand financial fear. She came from money.

  Something caught Trish’s eye, and she took off like a dog after a bone.

  Danielle chased her, grateful she dressed in sneakers and jeans. “What are you looking for?”

  “Inspiration.” She held up a lamp with a shade faded by age and bartered with the owner until she go
t him to take five dollars. After the deal wrapped up, she asked him to hold it until she finished her rounds.

  At the next vendor, Danielle picked up a heart-shaped box and opened it to find nothing but lint and dust. Would her hollowed-out heart look the same inside?

  Trish snatched the box from her and set it down, leading her to the next seller who had cross stitch and paint by number kits by the hundreds.

  “You’re thirty-five, not dead. Look at me.” She stomped her foot to get Danielle’s attention. “I found love in my thirties.”

  “I found it too, and all it got me was an empty bank account and heartache.”

  Trish lifted a cross-stitch of a lady surrounded by cats. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be her.”

  Danielle plucked the kit from her friend’s hand and set it down. “Never. I’m allergic to cats. I’m good with my life the way it is.”

  “You work and sleep.” Trish shook her head and moved them along.

  “And take field trips with you, which is all the fun I can handle.”

  “Your life should be more. Maybe a hobby would be good.” Trish turned around and headed back to the craft table. “Cross-stitch could be fun.”

  Had her life turned into TV dinners, cross-stitch, and Murder She Wrote? She’d only started watching that show to see if she could figure out a way to murder Chris and get away with it. But she realized the killer always got caught.

  “If I agree to try a new hobby, will you stop setting me up with trolls?”

  Smiling, Trish said, “Yes.”

  Danielle searched the nearby vendors for anything to get Trish off her back. Spotting a box of cookbooks with a five-dollar tag, she hurried over. Trish knew Danielle couldn’t boil an egg, so it was a believable attempt at a hobby.

  “I’m getting this.” Feeling victorious, she paid for the books and smirked.

  Trish picked up the top one. “The Beginners Guide to Baking.” She let out a laugh that shook her entire body. “I can’t wait. The last time you “baked” a cake it cost you fifty dollars from Connie’s confections.”

  “There was no way I was showing up empty-handed, and no one needed to know I bought that cake.”

  “My mom still thinks you’re the most skilled cake baker in Pitkin County.”

  Danielle lifted her chin. “What they don’t know won’t hurt me.” She asked the man to hold them, and they moved down the aisle. She had no intention of using the cookbooks. Chances were, they’d stay in the back of her car until she could donate them to a charity.

  “I want to taste the first thing you cook. Rob can be your guinea pig too.”

  Danielle stopped to look at her friend. “Do you have a death wish? Besides, I thought you liked your husband.”

  “I do, but to keep you honest, I’ll be your first taste tester. And you’re not allowed to leave the books in the back of your SUV or give them away. Try your new hobby.” With that, Trish raced to another table and picked up a chinoiserie bowl.

  When she caught up with her friend, Danielle said, “You already have one like that.”

  “I did.” She shrugged. “But you know … there are so many surfaces.”

  “That’s why you needed that lamp.” Danielle’s jaw dropped. “Come to think of it, that entry table is new too. You two are disgusting.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  She sucked in a breath and let out a sigh. “You’re right.” She moved through the rows. “Is it really that good?”

  “What? The sex?” Trish turned and headed down the next aisle. “Remember that better-than-sex, chocolate cake Ms. Ferguson made?”

  Danielle gasped. “No. Better than that?” That cake was an orgasm without a man.

  “It’s ten times that.”

  She shouldered her friend. “I would hate you if I didn’t love you so much.” Trish was the sister she always wanted, but not one of the two she had by blood. They met their freshman year of college and were inseparable. Trish’s family was much like her own, except Danielle’s father never wore a yarmulke and he ate bacon and pork ribs like they were the only meat in the world.

  “And because you love me, you’ll keep an open mind when I tell you what I did?” Trish led her to the funnel cake booth and ordered two with extra sugar.

  “If it needs extra sugar, then it’s got to be bad.” She clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt. “What did you do?”

  Trish picked up a funnel cake and stepped back. “It’s not that bad.”

  “If you’re buying sweets, it’s bad. You also gave yourself running room, which means it’s worse than bad. Spill it.”

  Trish stepped back once more. “I worked it out so you have an appointment with Aunt Freida.”

  Danielle’s mind raced through Trish’s relatives until she figured out who Freida was.

  “You did not.” She took a large bite of the sugary cake trying to cover the bitter taste in her mouth. “Aunt Freida, the matchmaker?”

  “Yes, she set up my parents and my sister and my brother. She has a sixty percent success rate with women on the shelf.”

  Danielle choked, and a puff of sugar floated around them. “I’m not on the shelf. I’m only thirty-five.”

  Trish smiled. “My point exactly.”

  “Hey, you just promised no more set-ups if I agreed to try a hobby.”

  “No, I said no more trolls. Aunt Freida’s got stellar taste. She’ll find you a good man.” With a flick of her finger, Trish removed the excess sugar from her plate, and they were once again surrounded by a sweet cloud. “She’s expecting you tomorrow at noon. I’ll text you her address. Keep in mind, she never works on Sunday, but you’re family.”

  “No, no, no, I can’t have your family setting me up. I’m not …”

  Trish lifted her perfectly plucked brow. “Jewish?”

  “No. You know race, religion, and status mean nothing to me. I want to find love organically. It shouldn’t be a business deal.”

  Trish let out a huff. “With a marriage failure rate of fifty percent, why wouldn’t you enter it like a business deal?”

  “Did you and Rob enter matrimony with an outlined contract?”

  “Yes, but it was verbal. I told him if he ever made me unhappy, I’d kill him.” She cocked her head and grinned.

  “I can show you some episodes of Murder, She Wrote that might come in handy. As long as Angela Lansbury doesn’t show up, you should be fine.”

  They walked the rest of the way through the market. Trish bought everything to do with baking. There were measuring spoons and cups, and an apron that said, spooning leads to forking.

  She handed them to Danielle. “I’m supporting your new hobby.”

  Danielle suppressed a groan. Now she’d have to pull out a cookbook and attempt to make something that wouldn’t kill them all.

  “I’ll invite you over for a scheduled poisoning soon.”

  They picked up their purchases and headed to the car. When they got back to Trish’s house, she leaned over and gave Danielle a hug. “You’re worthy of more than you got. Never forget that. There is a man looking for you.”

  “Should I hoist a flag that says, ‘I’m over here?’”

  “No, but don’t be late to Aunt Freida’s, or she might curse you instead of blessing you.”

  “I don’t want to go. What if she says I’m hopeless?”

  Trish gathered her purchases and climbed out of the SUV. “I’ll help you buy some cats.”

  Chapter 2

  James

  James Parks walked inside the temporary Aspen headquarters of Luxe Resorts. He didn’t wear a custom-made suit or a pair of Italian loafers like he usually did during takeovers or meetings. Today, he wore jeans and a T-shirt. While he felt comfortable in both, he preferred the laid-back feel of denim and cotton.

  “Mr. Parks.” The front desk security guard nodded.

  “Good morning, Tony. Did Allie and Julian arrive?” On a lark, he, his sister, and his best friend started Luxe resorts ten
years ago. They set out to prove that everyone could afford luxury.

  “Julian is in the conference room, and your sister called and said she’s picking up breakfast for you heathens.”

  “Heathens, huh?”

  Tony’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Her words, not mine.”

  “I got ya.” He tapped the counter and moved toward the elevator. “Have a great day, Tony.”

  “You too, sir.”

  Arriving on the top floor, he went straight to the conference room where Julian was fussing with the coffeemaker.

  “Just give up already.”

  “One day, I will master this.” Julian looked at the items in his hands.

  “It’s not rocket science.” James took the coffee pouch, strainer, and pot from his friend. “It’s kind of like making love. You put all the pieces in the proper places, and the outcome is amazing.” He put the pot on the burner, tucked the pouch inside the strainer, and slid it all home. He pressed the button to start, and in seconds, the smell of heaven filled the air.

  They leaned on the counter and waited for the pot to finish the brew cycle. “Are you glad to be back in Aspen?” Julian asked.

  He wasn’t from Colorado. Julian was New York-born and raised. They’d met at Cornell. Julian had studied economics, while James’ focus was architecture.

  “I love it here. Now, if I can find the time to get my own place.”

  Julian rolled his eyes. “I can give you the name of the woman I used.” He waggled his brows. “She does a thorough job at showcasing the amenities.”