Authors: Ella Jade
“If you have real coffee, I’ll stay another night.”
“Well, then I’m in luck.” He motioned toward the kitchen.
“Coffee I can do.”
He walked with her down the hallway and flipped on a light.
“Do you take cream and sugar?”
She stopped in the doorway, gaping at the large industrial
kitchen.
“Is something wrong?”
“I didn’t expect such an elaborate workspace.”
“My aunt liked to cook. She baked fresh pies and desserts
for the guests. This was her dream kitchen.”
“It’s fantastic.” Elyse walked over to the oven and crouched
down to study the control panel. “A brick oven too?” she asked as she pointed
to the other side of the room. “The flatbread pizzas that come out of there
must be to die for.”
“Everything is pretty state of the art. Do you cook?” Her
enthusiasm piqued his interest. He’d never seen anyone get so excited over
appliances. The women he catered to usually had staff to cook for them.
“I’m an executive chef, or at least I was.” She laughed.
“Before I fled the city.”
He poured two mugs of coffee and motioned for her to have a
seat at the table. “Why did you leave?”
“Things didn’t work out between me and the owner.”
“You were sleeping with him?” He sipped his coffee before
sitting across from her. “That always complicates matters.” Visions of the
councilman walking into his bedroom and finding Logan with his wife flashed
before his eyes. That affair had definitely complicated things for Logan.
“Phillip was my boyfriend, but he had a hard time with the
commitment part. I got tired, so I left.”
“You needed a fresh start.”
We could all use one of
those.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing yet, but I don’t have any
immediate plans to head back to New York.”
“If I supply the coffee, will you stay here a few more
days?” He needed more time to figure out why he was so taken by her.
“Why?” Her eyes snapped up to his.
“Because I want you here.”
“Again, why?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice. “You
don’t know anything about me.” She splashed a small amount of cream into her
coffee before blowing into her cup.
“I believe in the here and now. I don’t like to miss
opportunities. You’re here now, so let’s see if we can figure out why.”
The skin above her brow creased and her adorable little nose
crinkled. “You’re awfully forward, aren’t you Mr. Cole?”
“I go after what I want.”
“Oh.”
He watched her swallow hard, so Logan turned down the
intensity. His Dominant personality didn’t always work with everyone he encountered,
but he hoped it would work with her. “I’d like for you to stay here for a few
days. Maybe cook in this lavish kitchen that no one uses. I’ve been eating
takeout for six months. I could use a home cooked meal.”
“You want me to cook for you?”
“If you want.” He looked around the kitchen reconsidering
his earlier notions that the kitchen had been a wasted investment now that he’d
stumbled upon a chef. “I saw your face when you came in here. You’re
impressed.”
“It’s an amazing kitchen. It has every amenity a five star
restaurant would have. The restaurant I ran didn’t have some of the equipment
this one does. When you get this inn up and running, your guests will be lucky
to have food prepared in here. Your chef is very fortunate.”
“I’m the only one here and I can’t cook. Do I have to feed
my guests?”
“Tell me you’re joking.” She laughed. “Would you stay at a
hotel that didn’t serve food?”
“I hadn’t thought that far. You’re my first guest.”
“You did say if I stayed here all of my fantasies would
become reality.”
“That’s the inn’s motto.” He winked. “I’m a modern day Mr.
Rourke.”
“I used to watch reruns of Fantasy Island when I was a
kid.” She giggled and Logan thought she sounded like a dainty little princesses
from one of those fairytale cartoons.
“Then you know what comes next. What can I do to make your
fantasy a reality?” He stood and made a sweeping gesture around the room.
“I want to make you dinner as a thank you for letting me
stay here in the middle of your rehab.”
“That sounds like a fantasy for me.” He reached across the
table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I said I wanted to fulfill
yours.”
She looked down, but he could see the blush seep into her
cheeks. The color brightened her face. He liked it.
“I’d love to have dinner with you, but we can order in. You
are a guest, after all.”
“Please. I’d like to cook.”
Her sparkling smile made it hard to deny her. “I’d like
that.”
“Great!” She stood up suddenly. “I need to go.”
“Where?”
“To the market, unless you tell me the pantry and freezer
are stocked.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I know exactly what I want to make. I’ll be back soon.”
***
Elyse walked down the aisle in the little farmers market
about two miles from the inn. Home grown produce and fresh ingredients were
perfect for her eggplant parmesan and mushroom risotto. She couldn’t wait to
get back to that fabulous kitchen and work her magic. Thoughts of being a
gourmet chef at the cozy inn flooded her mind all morning. She couldn’t think
of a more perfect job, but she knew it was a long shot. She knew nothing about
Logan and he didn’t look as if he had an accelerated timeline when it came to
opening the inn.
“Hi,” the cheery cashier said as Elyse placed her items on
the counter. “You’re new around here.”
“Yes, I just got into town last night.”
“I’m Cora.” She weighed the tomatoes and neatly bagged them.
“I’m Elyse. It’s nice to meet you. I love this market.”
“Thanks. It’s been in my family for decades. People travel
from three towns over to shop here.”
“I can see why,” Elyse said. “You have everything a chef could
want.”
“Are you staying around here?”
“About two miles down the road.” Elyse stepped around to
help bag her items.
“Really? Where about? There isn’t anything that close except
for the old inn.”
“That’s where I’m staying. It’s a gorgeous place.”
“But, it hasn’t been open for years. I know Logan’s been renovating,
but I didn’t think it was ready for guests.”
“It isn’t.” Elyse handed Cora her credit card. “He’s still
working on it. But he’s doing a fantastic job.”
“How long have you known Logan?” Elyse sensed a change in
the perky cashier’s demeanor. “I didn’t realize he had company.”
“Not long. He was nice enough to let me stay, so I’m making
him a thank you dinner.”
“How sweet.” She smiled tightly as she punched in the
numbers on the register. “It certainly doesn’t take him long.”
“Excuse me?”
“Logan is the town player,” she said. “He likes to play
games.”
“What kind of games?” Elyse could feel the jealousy rolling
off Cora.
“Logan can be all sexy and charming, but he has a darker
side. A side that woman don’t see on the surface. If you don’t know him that
well, I’d watch him. Not everyone can handle him.”
Why would a total stranger tell her about Logan? It didn’t
make sense, unless…
“Were you one of those women?” Nothing more dangerous than a
woman scorned.
“I’ve known Logan my whole life. We’re very,
familiar
with one another. I’ve been a guest at the inn on more than one occasion, if
you know what I mean.”
Elyse nodded as she gathered up her bags. “Thanks for the
advice.”
“Anything to help out a fellow girlfriend.” She smirked. “We
have to stick together. Don’t let him charm you.”
“I’m a big girl.” Elyse headed for the exit. “I’ll see you
around.”
“How long are you planning on staying?”
“As long as it takes.”
Elyse jostled her bags and gave Cora a quick wave. As she
headed toward her car she felt invigorated, despite the other woman’s counsel.
She’d known Logan less than twenty-four hours, and already she dreamed of
running his kitchen and slipping into his bed. She’d gotten territorial with a
woman she didn’t even know over a man she didn’t know, but who’d dominated her
thoughts all day. Coming to Connecticut to sort out her life might have been just
the thing. Maybe Logan Cole was exactly what she needed.
Chapter Three
Logan stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Elyse
pulled the last tray from the oven. The aroma of her creations had swirled
around the inn all afternoon. Just knowing she was in the house while he
painted the foyer was – nice.
She had made him fresh brewed iced tea and cranberry scones.
He’d had his share of women throughout the years. Many had managed to satisfy
his eclectic sexual appetite but none had ever made him fresh baked goods or
cooked him dinner. Most of them were either interested in his looks or his
trust fund. Random women hopping in and out of his bed had never bothered him.
But that was before last night, when the striking woman now standing in his
kitchen had first showed up on his doorstep.
He wanted to ravish every inch of her luscious body, but
that wasn’t the only thing he wanted from her. The desire to get into her mind
completely over-shadowed the need to get her into his bed. That had never
happened to him before.
“Hey.” She caught him staring at her. “Are you hungry?”
“You have no idea.”
She laughed.
“I mean, everything smells so good and I’m starving.”
I’m
an idiot.
“So you only want me for my cooking skills?” She placed two
wine glasses on the kitchen table.
“I wouldn’t say that. Here, let me pour the wine.” A drink
sounded good right about now. “You just – sit.”
She sat in the seat in front of the large picture window
with an amazing view of the backyard behind her. The moon shone into the room
illuminating her creamy skin. Her long, dark hair hung loose over her shoulders
brushing the tops of her breasts each time she moved. Her shirt dipped low
enough that he could see the valley between them. Images of him licking a path
through that valley and down her smooth, flat stomach as he moved closer to her
heat cluttered his thoughts.
What does she taste like?
“Here you go.” He handed her a glass of wine trying to set
aside his highly inappropriate thoughts. “I hope you like white.”
She sipped it. “It’s very good – and rare. I haven’t seen a
bottle of this in years.”
“There’s a whole wine cellar in the basement. You should
check it out.”
“You’re a wine enthusiast? I would have pegged you as more
of a hard liquor man.”
“You would be right. My aunt and uncle enjoyed wine. They
traveled to vineyards all over the country adding to their collection. If I
ever get this place up and running, I could make a fortune off the stash in the
basement. I’m sure people would pay big bucks for a glass of what I have in
that cellar.”
“When do you think that will be?” She took his plate and
served him. Her subservient side came naturally to her. He watched as she took
her time making the plate look as if it had come out of a fancy restaurant.
“That looks too good to eat.”
“That’s the point.” The pride in her smile was evident. “Is
there anything else I can get you? Would you like more sauce on your eggplant?”
“No, this is fine. Do you usually serve your date dinner?”
“Are you my date?” She began compiling her own meal.
“You know what I mean.” He took a forkful of risotto.
“I’m in the restaurant industry, so I aim to please; but no,
you’re the first man I’ve served.”
“I like it.”
Much more than you could ever realize.
“This is delicious.”
“I’m glad.”
“I like you.” He sipped his drink.
“You don’t even know me.”
“You like to cook, you like to serve me. What else do I need
to know?” He finished his wine and then poured himself another glass.
“You’re very charming.” She rolled her eyes. “Would you like
me to kneel at your feet while you eat?”
“Would you?”
She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. He’d
stunned her.
“Eat your dinner. We can discuss your submissive tendencies
later.”
“I’m not submissive.”
“Hmm.” He slathered butter on a piece of homemade biscuit.
“Where did you grow up?”
“New Haven.”
“I went to college there.”
“Where?”
“Yale – have you heard of it?” He teased.
“You went to Yale?”
“Does that shock you?” He laughed. “I suppose I wouldn’t
believe it either.”
“My father was a professor there. He was head of the
Economics department before he passed away several years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear of his passing. Were you close to him?”
“Very.”
He watched as the pain tiptoed across her eyes.
“We used to come here whenever he could get away. I have so
many memories of this place. That’s why I came back.”
“I’m glad you agreed to stay. Perhaps it will somehow make
you feel closer to your dad.”
She nodded and then closed her eyes. He realized she was
holding back tears when she opened her beautiful charcoal eyes. He wanted to
run his tongue along her trembling bottom lip but her voice pulled him from
that thought. “You don’t look like I picture a Yale graduate. You’re muscular…
and… good with your hands.”
“Am I?” He reached across the table and took her small hand
in his. “What is it about my
hands
that intrigues you?”
“I just meant you’re handy. You did an amazing job
upstairs.” The rose color he liked when she was embarrassed filled her ivory
cheeks. “I must sound like an idiot to a Yale graduate.”
“I think you’re extremely smart and quite talented. This is
the best meal I’ve had in ages.” He let go of her hand and picked his fork back
up.