you say?”
“Sold!”
Devon stirred the rapidly thickening sauce and shot a worried glance at the clock. He should have waited to add the sherry. Jamie said she’d be there in an hour. That was one hour and fifteen minutes ago. If she didn’t get here soon, he couldn’t guarantee the quality of the Shrimp Newburg. As for the pastry cups he’d planned to serve it over…well, even Killer wouldn’t want them in a few minutes.
A knock on his door brought a wave of relief that surprised him. Tapping his wooden spoon on the edge of the pot, he quickly covered it and set the spoon on the trivet before going to the door.
What he saw there was worth the wait.
The sunset gilded Jamie’s shoulder-length hair and made her tanned skin glow like burnished gold. The warm, sunny yellow of the minidress she wore had him salivating, eager to peel it off.
But that would have to wait. If he didn’t serve the food immediately, he may as well pitch it.
“I didn’t know what you were making, so I brought a Lambrusco and a white,” she said with a smile, holding up two wine bottles. “Mmm. Something smells great!”
“You like it? It’s a new aftershave I got at Christmas—oh!” He grinned at her. “You meant the food, I guess.” He pretended to wince when she cuffed his arm. “It’s Shrimp Newburg. I consider it one of my specialties.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted it.” She wandered into the living room, shoved a pile of magazines to the side and sat down on the sofa.
“It’s a lot like Lobster Newburg, only made with salad shrimp. And I add a few other things to give it a kick. It’s just about ready.” He went back into the kitchen and took the pastry puffs out of the oven.
She nodded and watched Devon walk into his kitchen. He was so cute in his Kiss the Cook apron. And she fully intended to kiss the cook before the night was through.
Nervous, she picked up a wrapped square from the candy dish on the scarred end table and frowned. What was that? It looked like one of those thin red licorice strings she used to love as a kid, rolled into a circle. Must be leftover from Halloween or something. She ripped open the cellophane packet and popped the treat in her mouth.
Wow. It must be really old. The cherry taste she’d been expecting was a bit off, kind of dusty tasting. She chewed a little more. Man, the licorice was rubbery.
“All set!” Devon’s voice caught her attention. “Ready to eat?”
She quickly swallowed the licorice bite, trying not to gag. Embarrassment heated her cheek at Devon’s look of outrage. Maybe he was particularly territorial of his candy.
“What the hell did you do?” He set the basket of something down on the table, which she now noticed was set with a light linen tablecloth and mismatched plates.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t think you’d mind if I had a piece of licorice. I—”
“Licorice!” He roared with laughter. “Li-lic-licorice!” He wiped tears from his eyes and snickered again before speaking. “Jamie, that wasn’t licorice.” Another snicker.
“It wasn’t?” Whatever it was had formed a wad in her stomach. “What was it?”
“Was it in that bowl?” He pointed, and she nodded. “It was a condom.”
“A condom!” Her face could quite possibly burst into flames at any moment. “Who keeps condoms in a candy dish?”
“I do. I write for a few sex-toy manufacturers, for their catalogs. They send me all kinds of samples so I can see what they look like, what they feel like. How they taste.” He burst out laughing again. “H-how did it taste, by the way?”
She giggled. “Rubbery.”
10
“S hould I try to throw it up?” That would really make it a fun date.
“I think you’ll be okay.” He held the chair out for her. “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”
With a grimace, she sat down. “Very funny. Yes, I’m starved! That’s why I ate the, ah, thing in the first place.”
The cherry dust taste made her
“Sold!”
Devon stirred the rapidly thickening sauce and shot a worried glance at the clock. He should have waited to add the sherry. Jamie said she’d be there in an hour. That was one hour and fifteen minutes ago. If she didn’t get here soon, he couldn’t guarantee the quality of the Shrimp Newburg. As for the pastry cups he’d planned to serve it over…well, even Killer wouldn’t want them in a few minutes.
A knock on his door brought a wave of relief that surprised him. Tapping his wooden spoon on the edge of the pot, he quickly covered it and set the spoon on the trivet before going to the door.
What he saw there was worth the wait.
The sunset gilded Jamie’s shoulder-length hair and made her tanned skin glow like burnished gold. The warm, sunny yellow of the minidress she wore had him salivating, eager to peel it off.
But that would have to wait. If he didn’t serve the food immediately, he may as well pitch it.
“I didn’t know what you were making, so I brought a Lambrusco and a white,” she said with a smile, holding up two wine bottles. “Mmm. Something smells great!”
“You like it? It’s a new aftershave I got at Christmas—oh!” He grinned at her. “You meant the food, I guess.” He pretended to wince when she cuffed his arm. “It’s Shrimp Newburg. I consider it one of my specialties.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted it.” She wandered into the living room, shoved a pile of magazines to the side and sat down on the sofa.
“It’s a lot like Lobster Newburg, only made with salad shrimp. And I add a few other things to give it a kick. It’s just about ready.” He went back into the kitchen and took the pastry puffs out of the oven.
She nodded and watched Devon walk into his kitchen. He was so cute in his Kiss the Cook apron. And she fully intended to kiss the cook before the night was through.
Nervous, she picked up a wrapped square from the candy dish on the scarred end table and frowned. What was that? It looked like one of those thin red licorice strings she used to love as a kid, rolled into a circle. Must be leftover from Halloween or something. She ripped open the cellophane packet and popped the treat in her mouth.
Wow. It must be really old. The cherry taste she’d been expecting was a bit off, kind of dusty tasting. She chewed a little more. Man, the licorice was rubbery.
“All set!” Devon’s voice caught her attention. “Ready to eat?”
She quickly swallowed the licorice bite, trying not to gag. Embarrassment heated her cheek at Devon’s look of outrage. Maybe he was particularly territorial of his candy.
“What the hell did you do?” He set the basket of something down on the table, which she now noticed was set with a light linen tablecloth and mismatched plates.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t think you’d mind if I had a piece of licorice. I—”
“Licorice!” He roared with laughter. “Li-lic-licorice!” He wiped tears from his eyes and snickered again before speaking. “Jamie, that wasn’t licorice.” Another snicker.
“It wasn’t?” Whatever it was had formed a wad in her stomach. “What was it?”
“Was it in that bowl?” He pointed, and she nodded. “It was a condom.”
“A condom!” Her face could quite possibly burst into flames at any moment. “Who keeps condoms in a candy dish?”
“I do. I write for a few sex-toy manufacturers, for their catalogs. They send me all kinds of samples so I can see what they look like, what they feel like. How they taste.” He burst out laughing again. “H-how did it taste, by the way?”
She giggled. “Rubbery.”
10
“S hould I try to throw it up?” That would really make it a fun date.
“I think you’ll be okay.” He held the chair out for her. “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”
With a grimace, she sat down. “Very funny. Yes, I’m starved! That’s why I ate the, ah, thing in the first place.”
The cherry dust taste made her
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