Pony Up (Caldwell Brothers Book 4) by Colleen Charles

Author:Colleen Charles [Charles, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Pepper

By the time I get home, I shake with anger. Thinking back, I wish I would have slapped his impertinent face. After everything we shared, I can’t believe he dissed my values, beliefs, and restaurant yet again. Where are Carter Caldwell’s priorities? He ruined an intimate night by picking a stupid argument with me the moment he pried his eyelids open. I always thought “morning afters” were for cuddling and breakfast. Getting closer, not wedging farther apart. For sure not insulting each other’s personal preferences.

Then again, I guess this shows what I know about men – which, admittedly, isn’t much. Sakana’s been my priority for so damn long, my vagina had gone into hibernation. Until last night. I calm down, allowing myself one spine-tingling memory of Carter’s hands on my fevered body.

But only one.

With anything positive firmly in the past, I knit my anger together again and wear it like a righteous cloak. Stumbling into the kitchen, I pour myself a mimosa, then go about whipping together a satisfying breakfast – poached eggs with some lump crab and steamed asparagus on the side. This is a perfectly satisfying meal. I take the first bite, chewing and allowing the tapestry of flavors to explode across my tongue. Yummy. After every bite is consumed, I scrunch up my face and load the dishwasher. Somehow, my delicious breakfast just makes me think of Carter again…and how he’d sneer in my face if he saw me sucking down lump crab instead of bacon or steak.

I know I need a distraction. Out of sight, out of mind.

That’s when I see the large manila envelope on the counter. Throwing the last drink of my mimosa down my throat, I wipe my hands on my denim-clad thighs and pick it up, slicing through the clear packing tape with my short thumbnail.

It’s a packet of information from the Food Network. It must’ve come yesterday – I’ve been watching the mail like a hawk – and seeing my name in huge font underneath that logo is enough to make my heart start to thud in my chest. I can’t believe it is on repeat in my head as I flip through the paperwork. I’m hoping for some information on what I’ll be expected to do – after all, I have no idea what kind of show they’re thinking of – but there’s not much to be found.

With a frown, I carry the papers over to the couch and flop down with one leg folded underneath me. Suddenly, my mind fills with ideas – should I try a bunch of new recipes, or should I stick to my old tried and true favorites? Licking my lips, I reach forward and grab a notepad and pen from the coffee table.

Ideas:

Tuna tartare tower

Lump crab ravioli with cream sauce

Stuffed shells with lobster and bay scallops

Frowning, I look down at the page. I know I must wow whoever is filming me – not to mention the audience – and somehow, none of this stuff seems good enough.

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