A Pinch of Passion (A Recipe for Love Novel Book 2) by Kelly Collins

Author:Kelly Collins [Collins, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Nook Press
Published: 2020-05-27T23:00:00+00:00

She didn’t have a shift at the Soup Kitchen today but stopped by, anyway. She found the door unlocked and tugged it open. “Hey,” she said, walking inside.

“Holy hell!” Having startled him, Marco jolted up, hitting his head on the underside of the sink. “Make some noise when you come in. You almost gave me a coronary.” He grabbed his head and looked at the blood on his fingertips. “Dammit.”

“You’re bleeding?”

“You think?” He crawled out from under the sink and grabbed a wad of paper towels to press to the injury. “Did they teach you the process of deduction at that fancy college of yours?”

“Did they teach asshattery at the police academy?” She took his elbow and pulled him into the office. “Let me look at you.”

He shrugged her off and walked ahead. “I’m fine. It’s just a cut.”

“I feel responsible, so let me take care of it.” She pulled the first-aid kit from the wall and cleaned the wound with an antiseptic wipe.

“That hurts.”

“Stop being a baby.” She found the silliest Band-Aid in the box. It was pink with yellow daisies. She plastered it over his wound and pressed her lips to it as if he were a child. He was acting like one.

“Why are you here today?” He sat back in the chair, watching her put the kit away.

“Why are you so grumpy?”

“Because I cut my head, and I’m tired, and I’m hungry. Do you need more excuses?”

“You need a break. You do too much, and it’s showing in your unpleasant disposition.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Is Lisa coming in soon?”

“She’ll be here within the hour.”

She peeked outside the door into the kitchen. “Will the plumbing hold out for another day?”

“I fixed it. What are you getting at?”

She pulled on his arm. “Let’s go.” She yanked at him until he stood and followed her to the sink. She picked up his tools and threw them in the box. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

His head snapped back, and he gawked at her. “Are you asking me on a date, Ms. Parks?”

She let out a gut-busting, doubled-over laugh. “In your dreams. I feel bad for causing you injury.”

He followed her out the door and locked it behind them.

“Is that why you showed up here on a non-scheduled day? Did you plan to take me to dinner on the off chance that you’d walk in and make me crack my melon open?”

She pointed to the Porsche. “Get in.”

He shook his head and winced. “Not on your life.” His hand raised to touch the bandage.

“Not my life, but your life, which I’ll make more miserable if you don’t get in the car.” She walked over and opened the passenger door. “Now.”

He moved as if he would follow directions but turned around quickly, gripped her shoulders, and pulled her to him. “I’m not dying before I get to kiss you.” His hand threaded into the back of her hair while his lips crushed against hers. When she opened her mouth, he dove right in. Even his kisses were combative; their tongues dueled as if fighting for dominance.

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