Anna Stewart - Recipe For Redemption

She must have surprised herself, because she rocked back on her heels and lifted her stunned face to him as his lips curved. He clenched his fists to stop himself from touching her cheek, from finding out if her skin was as soft as he imagined it would be. “You heard me, right? This is going to be hard work, Abby.”

“Anything worthwhile always is.” She grabbed his book. “I’m going to start reading this tonight, but first, I’m clicking Submit on that application! How about you meet me at the Butterfly Diner for an early lunch tomorrow, say, eleven o’clock, and we’ll go from there?” She set her jaw and grinned at him, challenge issued.

“The diner, huh?” His stomach rolled at the thought of it. What was it she’d said earlier? Holy hamburgers? “Has anyone ever tried to say no to you?”

“Once or twice. Didn’t work. Good night, Jay. And thank you.”

He caught her arm as she passed, looked into her eyes for a second longer—not long enough. “My name is Jason.”

She nodded as if she was coming out of some sort of trance. “Jason, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hugged his book like she was an anxious freshman headed off to her first day.

He opened the door for her, waited until she disappeared down the stairs before he closed it again. The doubt crept in, slow and slithering, working its way into his overwhelmed brain.

Whatever desire, whatever passion he’d once held for his profession was gone. He’d lost his appetite for all of it. The idea of diving back into that world that haunted him was enough to freeze his feet to the floor. Which left him with one question.

What had he just gotten himself into?

CHAPTER FIVE

“ABIGAIL MANNING!” HOLLY glared at Abby as if she wanted to crawl over the counter and strangle her. “Things cannot be so bad at the inn you had to sell your parents’ wedding rings.”

“I know.” Except they were. Abby forced a smile. The ache in her chest remained and she could still feel her hand burning from when she’d handed over the rings, but she refused to look behind her. Sometimes it took sacrificing the past to try to save the future. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

If anything, spending three hours early this morning replacing another two showerheads, tightening valves under sinks and touching up chair-rail paint in the soon-to-be-occupied rooms was all the reminder she needed of how much there was to do. “I don’t think my parents would want me to have to put Gran in a home, which is what’s going to happen if the Flutterby closes. This is the only way out I can see.”

Holly moved aside for the ever skinny, fashion boundary–pushing server Twyla, who grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and warmed up the late-morning customers’ cups. “And for what?” Holly lowered her voice. “To enter a cooking competition. A cooking competition? You know that means you’ll have to cook, right?”

Abby inclined her head and pressed her lips into a hard line. Sometimes Holly’s sarcasm rankled her nerves.

“Oh, wow.” Holly crossed her arms. “I thought maybe you were exaggerating yesterday.”

“That was before I looked at the accounting records. Mr. Vartebetium has been using his personal savings to balance the books for over a year. He’s also neglected to pay the property taxes for the last four, which that prize money would cover. The inn is hemorrhaging, Holly, and Gran needs stability, especially since her diagnosis.” Abby needed stability.

“And what’s Gran going to say when she hears you sold those rings?”

“Gran won’t say anything, because no one is going to tell her,” Abby warned Holly. “I did what I had to, Holly, and I sent in the entry fee forty minutes ago.” No turning back now. All those rules. No wonder she’d woken up with a headache. “It’s a done deal.” She was locked in tighter than plastic wrap over a steaming bowl.

Hey. She jolted in her chair. She’d learned something from Jason’s cookbook last night after all.

“On the bright side.” Holly shifted her gaze out the glass door. “You found yourself one handsome cooking teacher. Nicely done.”

“Yeah, we’ll...” Abby spun on her stool as she saw Jason bending down to give Cash, Luke’s beautiful golden retriever, a hearty pet of greeting. “We’ll see,” she croaked. He’d certainly never smiled at her like that, and was that a chuckle she heard as he stood up and followed Luke into the diner? If anything she seemed to put his face in a permanent state of disapproval.

“Ladies.” Sheriff Luke Saxon in all his uniformed finery led the parade of his overactive soon-to-be stepson, with Jason bringing up the rear. Cash remained outside the front door, peering inside with a look of resignation.

“Am I too early?” Jason slipped his hands into the pockets of his oh-so-nicely fitted jeans. Abby nearly toppled off her stool but then covered by grabbing hold of Simon and yanking him in for a hug.

Holly straightened to her full height, an amused gleam in her eyes as she glanced between her best friend and Butterfly Harbor’s recent arrival. “Abby’s always early. A good thing for any instructor to know about his student.” Holly strode around the counter and held out her hand. “You must be Jay. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks. It’s Jason, actually.” He cleared his throat, inching his chin up as if accepting a challenge. “Jason Corwin.”

“Welcome to Butterfly Harbor, Jason. Tell me something.” Holly leaned in as Luke slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Will you be videotaping your cooking lessons with her? I’m thinking they’d make great holiday entertainment—ow!” She glared at Abby, who had yanked hard on her ponytail. “Seriously?”

“Very seriously,” Abby said as she hugged the stuffing out of her godson until he squealed. “You, sir, have been MIA for too long. I miss my movie and pizza buddy.”

“Sorry.” Simon grinned up at her, those big brown eyes of his even bigger behind thick black-rimmed glasses. “Charlie and I have been busy.”

“I knew it.” Abby sighed and spun him around so she could lean her chin on the top of his head. “I’ve been replaced by another woman. You two aren’t trying to take over the world again, are you?” She peered over his shoulder at the haggard notebook clutched against his chest. Simon and his notebook. A dangerous combination.

“Not the world,” Simon said with a little too much seriousness, that jolted Abby’s nerves and was reflected in Holly’s suddenly attentive expression. “Just Butterfly Harbor.”

“Don’t worry. The sheriff is on full alert.” Luke shifted on his feet, barely leaning on the cane in his hand. “His school starts soon, so we stopped in for a quick snack before heading out to find the perfect backpack. Jason, good to see you again. Remember that poker game I told you about.”

“Sure. Yeah. Sounds great.”

Abby wasn’t entirely convinced Jason thought so.

“Give Paige your order.” Holly patted a hand against the front of Luke’s khaki shirt before she lifted up on her toes to kiss him. “But I’ll make your mocha shake.”

“You realize that’s why I’m marrying you, right? No one makes a mocha shake like you.”

Holly eyed him with suspicion. “Hmm. And here I thought it was my homemade pies. Simon, let’s leave Aunt Abby and Jason to their lunch, shall we?”

Abby would not blush. She would not... Too late!

“Back corner booth is free.” Abby hopped off her stool by the register and hurried off, hearing the muted rumblings of manly farewells and fellow customers’ conversations.

“Tell me something.” Jason slid into the booth across from her. “Is Butterfly Harbor a news dead zone, or does no one care about my past?”