Snippet Saturday - Foodies

Today’s snippet theme is Foodies. Enjoy a look from one of my books.

An snippet from Forever, I Do….

“Actually, I have another flavor for you to test.” She hurried over to the steel table in the center.

Ashley’s stomach rolled. He dreaded hearing those words each time he came by. In the last few visits, she’d always had something for him to try. All of them tasted awful.
He couldn’t understand why. Usually the pastries and cakes she gave away as samples in the bakery when she was trying to test a new flavor combination were delicious. Yet these new ones were nasty. The last one had made him sick all night. He kept telling her she didn’t need any new flavor. She hadn’t listened. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was trying to kill him.

Ashley glanced at her suspiciously. She looked so anxious and nervous. His heart softened. He wasn’t used to seeing this expression on her. Reluctantly, he made his way over to the table and took a seat on high stool. At the sight of a hefty slice of tiramisu nestled in the center of a pink cake plate, he groaned. On his next trip to the dentist, he was going to beg Dr. Winthrop to remove his sweet tooth.

“Umm…sweet cheeks… Why don’t we take these samples out for everyone to test?” He reached for the plate.

“No!” she said sharply. As if remembering herself, she smiled. “I trust your palate, Benedict. And I want to be certain it lives up to the bakery’s other flavors before I add it to the menu.” She pushed the plate toward him. “Please, Ashley. Take a taste.”

When she used his name like that, Ashley knew he would do anything she asked. He picked up his fork and sliced into the Italian delicacy. However, when he brought the cake to his lips, his stomach clenched.

As he hesitated at the threshold, he glanced at her. Rosalind’s look was intense. He gulped, raising the fork to his mouth. His hand shook and his palms became clammy.

Come on, Benedict, you can do this. He opened his mouth, pulling the pastry closer.

“Rosalind, where are the extra ribbons?” Lacretia called.

“Under the counter.” Rosalind walked around the table to the door. She pushed it and went into the front.

Thank you, Lacretia!

Ashley looked around frantically for a place to ditch the deadly serving. Spotting a trash can by the back door, he hurried over and dumped the entire contents inside. Straightening, he walked back over to table just in time.

Seconds later, Rosalind came back into the kitchen. She looked at him, then the empty plate. A sad smile curved her lips. “So, how was it?”

He refused to feel guilty.

It was him or those awful cookies. And he liked himself more. Standing, he went over to her and put his hand on her waist. She stiffened, then watched him suspiciously.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Are you going to make me a happy man and finally accept my invitation to dinner?”

Rosalind watched him, then muttered. “Not enough fish scales.”

“What?” He frowned.

“Ummm… I’ve already scaled my fish for my dinner tonight. I can’t go out,” she finished
in a rush.

Watching her, he wondered why she was acting so strangely. Rosalind pushed his hands away and moved back from him.

“Besides, you see me enough. You come by here often,” she griped.

The annoyance in her tone pissed him off.

“You know what, Miss Fletcher, you won’t have to worry about me coming by.” He grabbed her, pulling her into his body. “No matter how you deny it, you want me.”
She opened her mouth.

“Hush. You do. Your body tells me every time we’re in the same room. The catch in your breath. The way your pulse races when I get close. Your nipples get hard, and I’m sure if I were to touch you I would find you wet. Wet and aching for me,” he whispered against the side of her face.

He felt her shudder. A frisson of pleasure shot through him, but he released her and stepped away.

“You’re going to have to come to me, Rosalind. When you do, no more running or backing away.”

He stroked a finger against her cheek, then turned and left.

Copyright © Koko Brown and Taige Crenshaw, 2009.
All Rights Reserved, Loose Id.

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