Read Online The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley) by Ava Miles - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ava Miles
Tags: Women's Fiction
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She’d successfully eluded him all night.
Running meant fear. He knew because the same restlessness raced through his blood.
Along with lust and curiosity and a whole bunch of other uncomfortable emotions.
“I didn’t realize how deep things ran between you two,” Rhett drawled, settling a hand on his shoulder. Fixated on Elizabeth, Terrance hadn’t even heard his approach.
Terrance took the bourbon his friend shoved at him and downed it in one swallow. “Leave it alone.”
His friend’s sigh was long-suffering. “You know how much I love her, and God knows you and I have been friends quite a spell. Just be careful. She’s more tender-hearted than she lets on, and even though you’re a tough guy like the rest of us, I have a feeling the right woman turns you into pudding on the inside.”
No one used more colorful language than Rhett, and Terrance couldn’t help but smile. “Pudding? Never been fond of the stuff.”
“You know what I mean.”
Terrance’s eyes were still pinned to Elizabeth. Her movements were less bold and assertive now, he realized. Perhaps the hooker heels had given her hips a more pronounced sway, or she’d been hamming up her role. Either way, there was still a sensual rhythm to her movements, but it was all her.
“She’s more beautiful as herself than I ever imagined,” he told Rhett, not fearing anyone would overhear them in the corner of the restaurant.
“You never saw her in her…all together?” his friend asked in shock.
Laughter tickled the back of his throat. “I saw her naked plenty, but never without her makeup on.” Naked, her beauty had stolen his breath, and his blood beat hot at the thought of seeing all of that curvy, soft flesh again. “I didn’t even realize she wore a wig. Explains why she told me not to touch her hair.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right.” Terrance withdrew a hundred and waved it in front of Rhett’s face. “Giving up swearing is an expensive proposition.”
“I should start charging myself per word too. Dustin needs a good role model, even though my mouth is as pristine as white sheets on a clothesline compared to what it used to be.”
Terrance handed him a hundred. “Here’s my donation to your Cuss Fund. You can pick your favorite charity.”
“What’s yours?” Rhett asked as one of Terrance’s hand-picked servers stopped and offered them some of the excellent chocolate chip cookies they’d baked as a nod to Dare Valley’s small town community.
Terrance and his staff had chuckled about baking something so simple and wholesome, but it was Matt’s favorite, and the secret to catering events was catering to the hosts’ taste. The cookies were moist, the chocolate decadent—as only a special dark chocolate from Belgium could be—and the hint of coconut oil instead of butter set them apart. Terrance made everything with his special touch, even chocolate chip cookies.
“The Children’s Aid Society in New York,” he said.
“Sounds nice. I’ll probably donate it to a charity that helps women who’ve experienced violence.”
“That’s a great cause.”
As a kid, Terrance had seen plenty of defenseless women get preyed upon. As a teenager, he’d started intervening. He might be a violent man—he’d been told as much—but he abhorred violence against women.
And it made him wonder for the hundredth time what Elizabeth had been scared of the other night.
“Why does Elizabeth keep a baseball bat by her front door?” he asked his friend.
Rhett’s mouth turned grim. “I’ll let her tell you that, but it’s another reason for you to take care with her.”
That comment punched into his system, like a bruising upper cut to the jaw. And he wondered again if she’d run from him because of his fight with that asshole poker player who’d disrespected her and put his hands on her. It made more sense now. She’d been hurt before, and God help him, the anger and rage that rose inside him at the thought of
Running meant fear. He knew because the same restlessness raced through his blood.
Along with lust and curiosity and a whole bunch of other uncomfortable emotions.
“I didn’t realize how deep things ran between you two,” Rhett drawled, settling a hand on his shoulder. Fixated on Elizabeth, Terrance hadn’t even heard his approach.
Terrance took the bourbon his friend shoved at him and downed it in one swallow. “Leave it alone.”
His friend’s sigh was long-suffering. “You know how much I love her, and God knows you and I have been friends quite a spell. Just be careful. She’s more tender-hearted than she lets on, and even though you’re a tough guy like the rest of us, I have a feeling the right woman turns you into pudding on the inside.”
No one used more colorful language than Rhett, and Terrance couldn’t help but smile. “Pudding? Never been fond of the stuff.”
“You know what I mean.”
Terrance’s eyes were still pinned to Elizabeth. Her movements were less bold and assertive now, he realized. Perhaps the hooker heels had given her hips a more pronounced sway, or she’d been hamming up her role. Either way, there was still a sensual rhythm to her movements, but it was all her.
“She’s more beautiful as herself than I ever imagined,” he told Rhett, not fearing anyone would overhear them in the corner of the restaurant.
“You never saw her in her…all together?” his friend asked in shock.
Laughter tickled the back of his throat. “I saw her naked plenty, but never without her makeup on.” Naked, her beauty had stolen his breath, and his blood beat hot at the thought of seeing all of that curvy, soft flesh again. “I didn’t even realize she wore a wig. Explains why she told me not to touch her hair.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right.” Terrance withdrew a hundred and waved it in front of Rhett’s face. “Giving up swearing is an expensive proposition.”
“I should start charging myself per word too. Dustin needs a good role model, even though my mouth is as pristine as white sheets on a clothesline compared to what it used to be.”
Terrance handed him a hundred. “Here’s my donation to your Cuss Fund. You can pick your favorite charity.”
“What’s yours?” Rhett asked as one of Terrance’s hand-picked servers stopped and offered them some of the excellent chocolate chip cookies they’d baked as a nod to Dare Valley’s small town community.
Terrance and his staff had chuckled about baking something so simple and wholesome, but it was Matt’s favorite, and the secret to catering events was catering to the hosts’ taste. The cookies were moist, the chocolate decadent—as only a special dark chocolate from Belgium could be—and the hint of coconut oil instead of butter set them apart. Terrance made everything with his special touch, even chocolate chip cookies.
“The Children’s Aid Society in New York,” he said.
“Sounds nice. I’ll probably donate it to a charity that helps women who’ve experienced violence.”
“That’s a great cause.”
As a kid, Terrance had seen plenty of defenseless women get preyed upon. As a teenager, he’d started intervening. He might be a violent man—he’d been told as much—but he abhorred violence against women.
And it made him wonder for the hundredth time what Elizabeth had been scared of the other night.
“Why does Elizabeth keep a baseball bat by her front door?” he asked his friend.
Rhett’s mouth turned grim. “I’ll let her tell you that, but it’s another reason for you to take care with her.”
That comment punched into his system, like a bruising upper cut to the jaw. And he wondered again if she’d run from him because of his fight with that asshole poker player who’d disrespected her and put his hands on her. It made more sense now. She’d been hurt before, and God help him, the anger and rage that rose inside him at the thought of
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