Love in the Morning by Meg Benjamin

Author:Meg Benjamin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic comedy;small town;reality show;Salt Box;Colorado;chef;cooking;breakfast;resort;hotel
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2016-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Clark’s apartment was actually on the same floor as Lizzy’s, although at the opposite end of the hotel. It looked like he’d taken a couple of rooms that had been off by themselves and knocked them together into a single space. The room had an open floor plan—living room straight ahead, with the dining area near the windows at the side. The kitchen was set in an alcove across a tiled hall.

The furniture looked like the same stuff they had in the lobby, the same large overstuffed chairs and sofa, with rustic wood trim. The coffee table was beetle-kill pine. It was what was sitting on the table that caught her attention, however—a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket. And…a pizza box.

He shrugged a little apologetically. “I didn’t have time to order something from one of the fancy places up at the ski area so I went with Crostini’s pizza. At least it’s close.”

She grinned. “It’s fine. I love pizza.”

“Toasts first.”

He pulled the foil off the champagne and began working the cork loose. Lizzy felt like ducking. “You might want to do that with a towel.”

“Do what?”

“Take off the cork. Those things can come off with a bang.” She pulled a dishtowel off the rack near his kitchen sink, handing it to him.

He frowned. “So how am I supposed to do this?”

Hell, she’d probably bruised his masculine ego. Way to go, Lizzy. Great start for the evening. But now that she’d started there was no way to pull back. “Just put the towel over the cork and work it loose. That way the towel helps you catch it if the cork pops. And the champagne probably won’t go bubbling up if it does.”

After a moment he gave her a slow grin that made her toes curl slightly. “Nice. Wouldn’t want to lose any of this.”

“No, it looks like good stuff.” She gave him a small answering grin. Saved. Maybe.

He wrapped the towel around the cork and worked it carefully from side to side. After a moment, she heard a muted pop.

“Grab those glasses, will you?” He nodded toward a pair of champagne flutes on the coffee table. She picked them up, then leaned forward so that he could pour.

He put down the bottle, then took one full glass from her fingers, raising it slightly. “Here’s to the Best of the Box. Which is us.”

She nodded, clinking her glass against his before taking a sip. “You said we finaled. Does that mean we won?”

He shrugged. “Sort of. We’re in the top three. They don’t have a single winner—fewer bruised feelings that way. We all get bragging rights. They’ll have a big Gala at the resort this year where all the restaurants get to strut their stuff.”

“Oh. Should I work up something special to cook for that?” Visions of scones danced before her eyes. Possibly maple nut for a nice fall flavor.

He grinned again. “Haven’t a clue. Just drink your champagne, Lizzy. Enjoy the moment. You earned it.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she took another sip.

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