Love on the Rocks (with Salt) by Charlene Ross

Author:Charlene Ross
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, chick lit, funny romance, dating disasters, chick lit romantic comedy, funny chick lit, sexy romance novels

Spring 2009

Chapter 6

“Smells good,” Kyle says, coming up behind me and kissing me on the neck. My fiancé’s kisses send shivers down my spine. My fiancé. We’ve been engaged for three months, and I still get a thrill every time I say the word inside my head. Fiancé.

“Me or the taco meat,” I joke, breaking up the seasoned ground turkey in the skillet. Kyle’s stopped eating red meat, whereas I could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“Both. But I think I’d rather nibble on you,” he whispers in my ear and then bites it. It’s not hard, but it’s more than a nibble, and I’m no longer hungry. It’s a rare night that I cook though, so he’s going to have to wait until after dinner.

“You’re a bad boy,” I purr as I push him away.

“I’d like to be,” he flirts. He puts ice in a glass and reaches for the bottle of Costco pre-made margaritas. He calls them shortcut margaritas; I call them delicious. He tops off my glass before filling his own.

“How was work today?” he asks, leaning against the counter.

“Oh, you know, another day, another bride.”

“Anything juicy?”

I smile. Kyle loves shop gossip, and Gabriella’s has plenty of it. While I tend to shy away from drama, Kyle is drawn to it. Once a maid-of-honor and a matron-of-honor (because the bride couldn’t choose which friend she loved best) had a full-on brawl in the middle of the shop over whether the bridesmaid dresses should be lavender or periwinkle. (Um, neither!) Kim and I had to pull them apart, which resulted in me getting elbowed in the nose (that bitch is lucky it didn’t break) and Kim getting a scratch across her cheek that was visible for weeks. Kyle practically clapped his hands with glee at that story. (After making sure my nose was OK, of course.)

I walk to the counter and take a sip of my salty delight. “No drama today, my love. Sorry to disappoint.” I set my drink down and kiss him.

He puts his hands on my hips and pulls me to him. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.” He kisses me like he means business.

As hard as it is, I push away. “The tacos, remember?”

“Hmm.” He sighs.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and put the taco shells in the toaster oven?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting me.

“I’m pretty sure it’s still ‘miss.’ At least until we’re married. Which reminds me, maybe we can look at our calendars again this weekend?”

He takes a sip of his drink. “That sounds great,” he says, but he seems a bit tentative. Weddings and trials are planned well in advance and between my weddings and a couple of cases he’s working on, we haven’t been able to pin down a date for our nuptials.

I walk to the fridge and start pulling out the sour cream, shredded cheese and salsa with shaking hands, suddenly nervous. “Your words don’t match your tone. Not getting cold feet, are you?” I

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