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

  “I’m not looking for love, and I…” She shook her head in frustration. “I wasn’t going twenty miles over the speed limit.” Her entire demeanor changed in an instant. The creases lining her forehead disappeared, and the crinkles at the corners of her eyes increased as she smiled. She leaned forward and stared at his name badge. “Officer Rossi?” she asked as if he’d switched names with someone else. “Maybe I was going a wee bit too fast, but surely you can give me a warning and let it be.”

  He watched as she purred the words and paired them with a coquettish look. He’d seen it all before. Honestly, half the women he pulled over were barely dressed by the time he got to the window as if a glimpse of skin could make a difference. In Aspen, there was a lot of skin to show. Show him a millionaire, and he’d show you a pair of perfectly enhanced breasts. It was as if they didn’t have better stuff to spend their money on than silicone or saline.

  A glance at Allie proved his theory wrong. His roommates often referred to a woman’s chest as her personality. Allie didn’t have a big “personality.” Hers was as flat as a board with buttons.

  He mentally chastised himself for checking out his perp. “I’ll be right back. Stay put.”

  She huffed and let herself fall heavily against the seat.

  He walked to the cruiser with the scent of her perfume stuck in his nose. It was something sweet and floral, not roses but maybe jasmine or lavender. Lavender, that was it. He only knew the scent because his mother had burned scented candles nonstop, claiming they had a medicinal quality that could calm a rabid dog. God, he missed his mother.

  He ran her driver’s license and found no outstanding warrants, but he could see that she wasn’t a stranger to speeding. She received three tickets in the last year alone.

  He strolled back and found her sitting with her eyes closed. He took a moment to watch her. Red hair. Porcelain skin. Though her eyes were closed, he knew they were the color of newly bloomed clover.

  He cleared his throat. She startled, and her eyes popped open as if he’d appeared out of thin air.

  “Here you go.” He handed back her paperwork.

  He could almost see the cogs turning in her head. He waited a long second to see what excuse she’d offer up next. Bathroom emergency that somehow passed while she’d been sitting there? Migraine and in need of rest? Woman’s monthly issues? He’d heard them all.

  “Listen,” she said. “I can’t afford another ticket. Aren’t there other options?”

  He cocked his head and thought about her words. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

  She chuckled. “Would that work?”

  “Nope. I’ve heard it all. The last guy I pulled over told me he had more money than I had tickets. Is that what you’re implying?”

  He couldn’t read her expression because it was one part appalled and one part you-caught-me. “No, I thought that maybe you could be nice, Officer Rossi.” She glanced at the clock on her dashboard and groaned. “Look, I’m going to be late.”

  He nodded to the book. “Have you got a date? Maybe you plan to put one of those recipes to work.”

  “Geez, I don’t have a date. I’m not married, and I’m not looking. Men are a pain in the ass. There isn’t time for them, or for this.”

  Her outburst caught him by surprise. At the mention of men, her throat seemed to tighten.

  “Not my business.”

  “You seem to make it yours.” As if a light went on, she brightened and sat up. “Tell you what. I’ll forget about your inappropriate questions concerning my single status, and you forget about the ticket.”

  He laughed. “Nothing inappropriate going on at all. It’s my job to get information. All I’m doing is deducing whether you’re a risk on the road or not.”

  “My marital status influences that?” She let out a frustrated growl. “Seriously, is this what my tax dollars pay for? There are real criminals out there, and you’re twisting my nipples about a speeding ticket?”

  His eyes grew wide. He’d never heard that phrase but imagined it was the equivalent of breaking someone’s balls. At the mention of her nipples, his eyes went straight to the pink shirt that hung loosely against her skin, and right there, poking against the material were the culprits.

  Dammit, I need to get my head on straight.

  “Today, your tax dollars are hard at work to make the streets safer.” He scribbled across the pad. “I could cite you for several things. First, there is the speeding violation. You were going twenty miles over the speed limit. Second, there was the false accusation of inappropriate behavior. That could almost be considered an intimidation technique. The only thing you didn’t do was offer cash.”

  “Would it have worked?” She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

  “Do you want to find out?” Despite her father having the name Alistair, he didn’t figure her for a rich asshole, given that she was driving a Jeep that was the same make and model as his. If she were rich, she’d be driving a Porsche, a Mercedes, or a Beemer, and the first thing out of her mouth would have been how much will it cost me for you to turn and walk away?

  He had a real problem with wealthy people getting away with stuff because they bought their way out of it. His parents were dead because of a rich guy speeding down the road in his Ferrari. He tried to use his influence to get out of prison, but he couldn’t. Even though Marco made sure the guy did his time, no amount of money would bring his parents back.

  “I will lose my license if you ticket me for going twenty over.” She let go of the steering wheel and scrubbed her face with her palms. “That has a lot of implications I don’t want to imagine.”

  “Losing your license is not my problem. Killing a family could be yours if you continue to be reckless.”

  The green of her eyes dimmed as she nodded. “Okay, I was just hoping you’d have a heart and cut me some slack.”

  “Ms. Parks, my heart died when my parents did because someone was in a hurry to get someplace.” He tore off the ticket and handed it to her.

  She grabbed the slip of paper and tossed it onto the passenger seat. “You’re not very nice.”

  He crossed his arms. “Your tax dollars don’t pay me to be nice. They pay me to be diligent.” He gave her a curt nod and walked away. “I’ll see you in ten days.” Before he reached his cruiser, he heard her last words.

  “That sounds about as pleasant as a root canal.”

  Chapter 3

  Allie sent a text to the real estate agent, letting her know she was on her way. She drove one mile under the speed limit the rest of the trip and kept glancing in her rearview mirror to make sure Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy didn’t follow, waiting for her to break the law again so he could write her another ticket.

  Did I just think Tall, Dark, and Sexy? She shook her head as she pulled into the parking lot at Evergreen. “I’m losing my mind, talking to myself, and thinking Officer Anal Retentive was hot.”

  She opened her bag and set it on the floor to swipe everything strewn across the passenger seat inside. The last thing to land in her bag was the ticket. It wasn’t even one she could pay but the kind that required a court date to sort out. Her purse was in complete disarray because of him.

  Sexy my ass. He was arrogant and bossy and had those dark chocolate eyes that surely made other women swoon, but not her because men were as useful as a hangnail.

  She flung her door open and climbed out of the Jeep. As she took several cleansing breaths, she stared at the building in front of her. The glass and steel structure was likely an eyesore to the community when it was built, but she loved the Art Deco style that stood out among the rustic influences prevalent in the area. It was an older building, but it had good bones and a fabulous zip code.

  With her hand on the front door, ready to pull it open, she glimpsed something to her right. Something khaki and pressed with military precision.

  The uniform sent a jolt of awareness through her body. It wasn’t pleasant, but it
wasn’t unpleasant either. It was like an electrical buzz that vibrated deep inside.

  “I can’t believe you followed me.” She turned to face Officer Rossi and immediately realized her mistake. Standing before her wasn’t the man responsible for her sour mood, but someone different.

  “Excuse me?” he said as he reached over her to get the door.

  She walked inside and turned to face him. “Nothing, I thought you were someone else. My mistake.”

  He smiled and walked toward the elevator. “Are you going up?”

  The door opened, and she bolted inside. “Yep, top floor.”

  He pressed twelve and waited for the elevator to close. “Me too.”

  She glanced at his name tag. Officer Jones was as plain and unremarkable as his name. With his milky complexion and balding head, she found it hard to believe she confused him with the cop whose name she wanted to forget but couldn’t. Officer Rossi appeared to be everything Officer Jones was not. She wondered, if she ran into him someplace else, would he have smiled and opened her door like Officer Jones?

  When they reached the twelfth floor, he held his hand against the elevator door and waited for her to exit first.

  “Are you looking at the Mason place?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I’m here to see a place, but…” She reached for her phone to look at the unit number before deciding which way to go. There were two doors. The one to her left opened, and she expected to see the agent walk out, but it was another cop. Only this one was a damn giant. Positively Shrek-like, minus the head knobs and green skin.

  As he walked by, he smiled at her. “Afternoon.” His meaty palm rose to high-five Officer Jones as he moved toward the elevator. “Dibs on the new girl.”

  Flabbergasted, Allie pivoted and turned toward the door he hadn’t come out of. She was about to knock when it opened.

  A tall brunette stood in the doorway and smiled. “Glad you could make it. I’m Theresa. Come on in.” The realtor stood aside so she could enter.

  Allie knew her brows had furrowed by the strain between them. “I’m sorry I was late.” She stepped into the entryway and whispered. “I had a run-in with the law.”

  “I hope it turned out okay because if you take this place, you’ll be living next door to a few officers.” She closed the door behind them.

  “Aspen is paying its cops way too much if they can afford to live here.” She moved down the small hallway that acted as an entry and entered the living room with its wall of windows. The view was spectacular. In the distance, she saw the groomed mountain landscape that, come winter, would be a playground for outdoor enthusiasts who loved to ski and snowboard. She walked to the glass and pressed her forehead to the cool surface. Eyes straining, she squinted to see if she could make out the tower of Luxe in the next town over, but the farthest she could see was the outline of the lake.

  “I thought I might see work from here.”

  “Oh lord, I hope not. A person comes home to get away from work.” Theresa turned her back to the view and pointed out the finer points of the living room. “Being on the top floor, you have the benefit of twelve-foot ceilings, whereas the lower units only have ten.” She swept her hand out like a game show hostess. “The flooring is a handmade Italian tile. As you can see, the Tuscany beige goes with everything.”

  At the mention of Italian, a sour taste entered her mouth. I bet Officer Rossi is Italian. She didn’t know why he continued to enter her thoughts and chalked it up to her irritation and fear that she might lose her license. She should have been nicer. He told her she should improve her disposition by baking something in that book. At that thought, she harrumphed. He didn’t know her. She was as sweet as cotton candy, or at least that was what she told everyone. Was it only weeks ago that her brother told her she had a temper as hot as a ghost pepper? Did she?

  All she could do was pray that Officer Rossi didn’t show up to court.

  “Did you hear me?” Theresa asked.

  Allie rushed to where Theresa stood in the kitchen. “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” As she looked around, she got dizzy from the kaleidoscope of colors. “Was someone murdered here?”

  All the tile was blood red. It covered the counters and the backsplash A single inlaid heart above the sink was the only break from the mess. “She must have loved doing dishes.”

  Theresa chuckled. “The flat used to belong to Mrs. Mason, who believed that all passion started in the kitchen.”

  “Do I even want to know what that means?”

  “Her husband was Fortney Mason, a renowned chef in his day. Red is known to enhance the appetite.”

  “Wow. It does nothing for mine.” She ran her fingers over the four by four tiles. Even the grout was once red but now looked more of a medicinal pink. “This will have to be gutted.” With its dark wood cabinets and red counters, she felt like she’d locked herself in a cave—a bloody cave. “With Mr. Mason being a chef, I would have thought he’d have had a larger kitchen.”

  “He did, but when he passed away, Mavis didn’t want to live in the large flat. She divided it into two units.”

  “She sold it to the overpaid police officers?”

  “Something like that.” Theresa’s heels ker-plunked across the tile as she walked down the hallway to the bedrooms. “You have a master bedroom at the end. It’s got an en suite bathroom. The other two rooms are Jack and Jill and share the second full bath. There’s a quarter bath off the entryway next to the coat closet.”

  Allie rarely missed much, but she overlooked that. “It’s a shame they divided the property. I’m not sure I want to share a floor with a bunch of cops. I’m fairly quiet. Don’t they have a reputation for working hard and playing hard? You know, all-night poker games and stuff.”

  Theresa shrugged. “I try not to stereotype. You never really know a person until you know a person.”

  “You’re right.” Allie thought about all the times people labeled her and felt ashamed that she did the same without much thought.

  “It could be good. If they become friends, the next time you have problems with the law, they might be able to help.”

  “Unlikely. The guy I got a speeding citation from today was as uptight as a nun in a brothel.”

  Theresa laughed and moved into the master bath, which had a steam shower and jacuzzi tub. The faint scent of roses filled the air, and she imagined the bath filled with bubbles and rose petals.

  The flat was in great shape except for the kitchen. What she wanted to know was if the men next door would sell her their half, and then she could convert it back into its original whole-floor dwelling, but she heard her brother’s voice in her head. “If you have enough money for both halves, then you can buy one with little negotiation.”

  “I’d love to make an offer.” She considered how much the normal person would pay for a complete overhaul of the kitchen and deducted it from the asking price. “Will the owner take two for it?”

  Theresa’s eyes got big and buggy. “That’s a quarter of a million less than the asking price.”

  “It will cost at least half that to remodel. The other half is an inconvenience fee.”

  Theresa pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped in a number, and walked away. While she negotiated the price, Allie moved back into the living room and stood with her back to the windows looking at the space. She could see a camel covered sofa across from the fireplace. In front of the window, she’d put a small table flanked by two overstuffed chairs. It would be a great morning coffee spot or a place to crochet her lap blankets. Rather than use the dining room space as they intended it, she could expand the kitchen and put a large island that could serve as both a prep counter and a dining table. It wasn’t like she did a lot of entertaining. If she wanted to entertain, she had an entire resort at her fingertips.

  Theresa came back looking pensive. “Michael Mason inherited the place when his mother died. He’s not willing to cut the price that much.”

  “Is he willing
to negotiate at all? This isn’t the only property for sale in Aspen.” It was the only one she’d been interested in, though. For the location and the square footage, it was a reasonable offer. She would have offered his asking price if it was in move-in condition, but that kitchen was a nonstarter. Besides, things were tighter than usual. Rather than use their last property as equity for the new resort, each of the partners ponied up the funds to buy the building and took out a loan for the upgrades.

  Before Luxe at Timberline, she could afford whatever she wanted. Hell, if Kevin Costner or Oprah were selling their properties, she could have paid cash, but right now, things were tighter. She had enough to buy this place outright if the owner would be reasonable, but she preferred to put it on a fifteen-year loan.

  She needed to leave enough money in an emergency fund to weather several leaner months if Timberline failed. She wasn’t used to failing; never had, but she had to prepare for the just in cases.

  “He’s willing to take two-point-one million if it’s a cash deal. You can have the keys the day he gets the cashier’s check.”

  She considered the offer. Cash wasn’t what she wanted, but she could do it. She took a walk through the flat once more and stared out the window at the mountains. She wanted this place.

  “Deal.” She moved into the kitchen and rummaged through her bag to find her checkbook. She pulled the cookbook out and set it on the counter before digging deeper. “I assume he wants a good faith check?”

  “Yes, the standard three percent.”

  Allie filled the check out and tore it from the book at the perforated line. She tossed her checkbook back into her purse and lifted the cookbook to give it a closer look.

  “Recipes for Love, huh.” Theresa pointed at the inlaid heart above the sink. “Maybe you should keep that there; it seems kind of sweet. Maybe it’s a sign.”