Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection

by K. C. Lynn

  He frames my face between his large hands, resting his forehead against mine in an intimate gesture. “I’m going to be one of those people again, Grace. I know it’s going to take time for you to trust me, but I’ll make this up to you. I’ll make things right between us or I’ll die trying.”

  I swallow thickly, the ache in my throat preventing me from saying anything more. My wounded heart is too scared to believe in him.

  His gaze drops to my mouth, eyes darkening.

  “Sawyer Evans, if you put those lips anywhere near mine, after you just had them on someone else, I will punch you in the throat.”

  A half-laugh, half-groan rips from his chest. His arms encircle my waist, yanking me against his hard body. There’s no mistaking the erection against my stomach and it sends my body into a heated frenzy.

  His torture doesn’t stop there. Ever so softly, he drags his nose across the side of my cheek, his lips almost brushing but not quite. Goose bumps whisper along my skin, my breathing turning quick and shallow as he stops just shy of my ear.

  “I won’t kiss you until you ask me to, Cupcake. And I promise you, one day you will, because I know you feel this, too,” he murmurs, eliciting a shiver down my spine. “This heat—fire, the unrelenting need building between us. I know it’s not just me who feels it.”

  “Grace?” Shelly’s voice breaks our heavy moment.

  I suck in a startled breath and jump back from Sawyer, banging my head against the door like a doofus.

  “Oh crap! I’m so sorry,” Shelly sputters, giving us her back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I’m having problems with the register. Whenever you’re done, can you help me?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

  “Thanks.” She scurries away, leaving us in tense silence.

  “I should get going.” The words are nothing but a mumble as I sidestep him, my shoulder brushing his.

  “Grace?”

  Stopping, I take a deep breath and turn back to him.

  His eyes hold mine, determination burning within. “I’m going to prove to you how much I like cupcakes.”

  Unable to stop it, a small smile dances across my lips. “Bye, Sexy Sawyer.”

  I walk away, feeling his eyes upon me with every step I take. There’s a little more hope in my heart when it comes to fixing our friendship and right now, having him in my life as a friend is what I care about most.

  Grace

  That evening, I finish closing up by walking the trash outside when a loud whimpering snags my attention. My heart stills, praying it’s the dog I’ve been searching for. I pause and listen carefully, trying to decipher where it’s coming from.

  “Here, boy,” I call gently, my eyes scanning over the dark alley.

  The whimper turns into a keening cry, sounding painful.

  Dropping the garbage bags, I move around the large metal bin and find the chocolate Lab lying on his side, his leg twisted at an odd angle.

  I drop down next to him, my heart breaking at the sight of small bloody wounds on his nose. It looks as if his skin has been rubbed raw. “What on earth happened to you?”

  His response is another whimper and it has agony striking my chest.

  “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’ll get help.” Since Mac has left already, I dig my cell out of my purse and scroll through my contacts with shaking fingers, stopping on Sawyer’s name.

  He answers on the second ring. “Cupcake, what a coincidence. I was just going to call you.”

  “Sawyer,” I choke out, my voice trembling as bad as my hand.

  “Grace? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Chuckie; he’s hurt real bad. He needs a doctor, and I don’t know how to get him there. He can’t walk.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m behind the diner.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Thank you.” Hanging up, I put a gentle hand on the dog’s body. “It’s all right, boy, Sawyer’s comin’; he’ll help us.” I bury my face into his neck, stale cigarette smoke filling my nostrils as I hold him close.

  It’s not long before an engine roars down the back alley. Headlights blind us as Sawyer puts the truck in park and jumps out.

  Chuckie startles, his cryin’ turning frantic at Sawyer’s quick approach.

  “It’s okay, he won’t hurt you,” I soothe.

  Sawyer kneels down beside me, observing the dog’s wounds.

  “He’s hurt real bad,” I tell him on a sob. “I think his leg is broken, and somethin’ is wrong with his nose.”

  He drapes a comforting arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close. “It’ll be okay, Grace. We’ll help him.”

  I lean into him, thankful for his calm composure because the thought of losing Chuckie kills a small part of me. It will be another blow to my heart that I’m not sure I can handle.

  Sawyer

  We sit in the waiting room at the animal hospital, waiting for word about the dog. Grace sits next to me, steadily wiping her tear-stained cheeks.

  “Do you think someone did that to him, Sawyer?” she asks, her sad voice ripping apart my chest.

  “Yeah.”

  I don’t just think, I know, and I want to beat the shit out of the person who did it. Not only for the violence they inflicted upon the dog but for also making my cupcake cry…

  My Cupcake?

  Jesus, I’m fucking losing it.

  Her jaw clenches, emotional brown eyes narrowing in fury. “When I find out who did this, oh boy are they gonna be sorry,” she seethes, punching a tiny fist into her open hand.

  “Easy there, Rocky Balboa; let’s wait to see what the vet says first.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, the man in question walks into the waiting room.

  “Grace Morgan?”

  We both stand to greet him.

  “I’m Dr. Richards,” he says, extending his hand first to Grace then me. “You can come in now and see Chuckie.”

  My hand moves to Grace’s lower back as we follow the doctor into the exam room. The moment we enter she flees to Chuckie’s side where he lies on the examination table with a cast on his leg and a bandage covering his nose.

  She buries her face in his neck, her shoulders shaking as she cries.

  The doctor gives her a moment before asking his first question. “The nurse told me Chuckie is not your dog; is that correct?”

  She straightens and faces him. “He wasn’t before but he is now.”

  He nods. “I’m gad to hear that because if you don’t take him home I’ll be forced to call ASPCA to come pick him up. By the looks of things it seems Chuckie has been abused for quite some time. The X-rays show previous broken bones that were not treated properly. To be honest, I’m surprised he was able to walk at all.”

  The information has a small sob fleeing her. Unable to hold back any longer, I walk over and gather her into my arms.

  “What about his nose?” she asks. “What are those wounds?”

  “Cigarette burns.”

  Her eyes close, face pinching in devastation. “Why would someone do this?”

  “Unfortunately it’s something I see too often in my profession,” he tells her regretfully.

  She shakes her head, an angry breath escaping her. “Can I take him home now?”

  “Absolutely, but he needs to come back in three weeks time to get his cast off. I’ll also provide you with medication to help manage his pain. Lauren will give it to you when you take care of the bill.”

  Her shoulders slightly tense, probably because it never crossed her mind, but she recovers quickly. “I’ll do that now, thank you for helpin’ him.”

  “It was my pleasure. Thank you for bringing him.”

  Once the doctor leaves the room, she peers up at me, uncertainty shining in her emotional eyes. “I should pick up a bowl and some food, too. I don’t know what’s good. I’ve never had a dog before.”

  “It’s not hard, Cupcake; I’ll help you. Come on.”
<
br />   We head to the supply section and I grab everything he will need, including some dog treats, a bone, and even a bed. As the nurse rings up the items, I catch Grace staring at the price each time it flashes on the screen, her teeth worrying into her lip.

  “All righty, is that everything?”

  Grace nods.

  “It will be $850 please.”

  “$850?” she sputters, choking out the price.

  I pass the lady my credit card but Grace throws my hand away.

  “No!” She leans in closer to the nurse, lowering her voice. “Do y’all have a payment plan or anythin’?”

  “I got this,” I tell her.

  “No, Sawyer. I mean it, this isn’t your responsibility.”

  Grabbing her arm, I excuse us and drag her stubborn ass over to a quiet corner. “Listen, it’s not a problem for me to pay, it is, however, a problem for you.”

  “I’ll figure it out. I can ask Mac for an advance and pick up some extra shifts.”

  “Why would you do that when I am telling you I can afford it!”

  “Because I can’t accept this from you, Sawyer,” she says, voice softening. “I didn’t call you just so you can get stuck with the bill.”

  “I know you didn’t, that’s not what this is about. I have the money so I am paying for it and that’s fucking final!”

  The ultimatum strikes a chord, her eyes narrowing and chin lifting.

  Taking a breath, I reel in my frustration and decide to handle this a little more delicately. “I want to do this. Please, Grace. Let me help you.”

  The plea works, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Oh, all right. But I’m paying you back,” she says, pointing her delicate finger at me.

  Grunting, I head back to the register, refusing to argue further. After paying for everything we load up the dog and head to her place. Chuckie is asleep when we pull onto the driveway. I carry the heavy fucker inside, surprised by his weight.

  “Bring him this way. He’ll sleep in my room with me.”

  Lucky little bastard.

  I get my feet moving and follow her into the master bedroom—her bedroom. I come to a hard stop, taking in the wrought iron headboard. My dick roars to life as I think about all the shit we could do with those bars.

  “Sawyer?”

  My attention yanks to Grace where she stares at me. “Yeah?”

  “I asked if you could lay him down here,” she says, pointing to the ground by her feet.

  “Right.”

  Get your shit together, Evans.

  When I lay him down on the dog bed, Grace covers him with a blanket before settling beside him.

  “Cupcake, he doesn’t need that. His fur is a blanket.”

  “It’s not just for him. It’s for me, too.”

  The information has a scowl forming on my face. “You’re sleeping on the floor?”

  “Yeah, just until he’s more comfortable bein’ here.”

  “You should be in your own bed, Grace. You need sleep, too.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she says, curling around the dog.

  I decide to drop to it, knowing the argument is pointless. “I’ll be back. I’m going to go get the rest of the stuff from the truck.”

  “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft as she pets the dog.

  I head outside, grabbing the remainder of the supplies and bring them into the kitchen. After dishing the dog some food, I grab his water bowl to fill and spot an oversized picture that hangs on the fridge of Grace and whom I’m assuming is her mother, since the woman looks just like her.

  Grace holds up a freshly baked pie, her mother’s arms wrapped around her neck, a first place ribbon attached to the picture. Both of them beam with pride and even though I have seen Grace smile and laugh, I’ve never seen her look as happy as she does in this picture.

  Placing the water bowl on the floor, I head back into the bedroom, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight I’m met with. Grace kneels on the floor, her beautiful ass pointed straight into the air as she hugs the dog. She’s changed into a pair of sleep shorts that mold to her like second skin, tempting me in ways I’ve never imagined.

  My hands clench as I fight the urge to touch it, caress it.

  Spank it.

  “Everythin’s gonna be okay, Chuckie. We’re gonna be each other’s family now. I promise to take really good care of you.”

  Her words yank me back into the moment, hitting me like a punch to the gut. I clear my throat, alerting her of my presence.

  She spins around with a startled gasp.

  I flash her a smile that dies the moment she climbs to her feet and I get a full look at her sleep wear.

  I swear she’s trying to fucking torture me.

  Her matching tank top is just as tight as her shorts. Her nipples poke through the stretchy fabric, making my mouth water for a taste. That overpowering need only intensifies as my eyes travel down the length of her, taking in her toned legs that are half covered by gray wool knitted socks that come up to her thighs. They’re cute and sexy as hell, just like the woman herself. Images of what they would feel like wrapped around my back as I drive into her emerge quickly.

  A blush stains her cheeks at my blatant eye fuck.

  “Nice socks, Cupcake.” I compliment her with a smile, not the least bit ashamed.

  “Thanks,” she says, shifting from foot to foot. “Kayla and Julia bought me a few pairs for my birthday a while back. They’re called Alpine thigh-highs and they’re from Grace and Lace; they’re my favorite. I wear them as slippers sometimes and…” Her ramble comes to an end and she lets out a frustrated breath. “Never mind, you don’t care.”

  If she only knew how much I cared. I’d sit here and listen to her talk about her fucking grocery list if it meant I could be in the same room with her. I’m that far gone over this girl.

  “Thank you again, Sawyer, for coming when I called,” she adds quietly, eyes cast down to the floor. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Walking over, I tilt her chin up, bringing those warm amber eyes to mine. “You don’t need to thank me, Grace. I told you, anytime you need me, I’ll come.”

  She offers me a nervous smile. “I promise to pay you back soon. Maybe I can—”

  I cover her mouth with my hand. “We’re not going to talk about this anymore.”

  Anger sparks in her eyes but I don’t let her argue and reel her in close, her soft body pressing into mine in all the right places. “You need to learn how to accept help from people, Cupcake.”

  She licks those pretty pink lips of hers, tempting me further. “I don’t like acceptin’ help from people, because you never know what they’re gonna expect in return.”

  My lust fades at the pain in her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything, Grace. Except for pie. I want my own special pie, one that’s as amazing as I am.”

  She smiles like I hoped for her to, a sweet giggle escaping her. The sound of it washes over me, drifting through the air like one of my favorite songs.

  “Well, now that I can do, Sexy Sawyer.”

  My hand lifts to her face, caressing the soft skin of her cheek. She gazes up at me, her eyes storming with unrelenting need. The same one I have roaring in my veins. Before I can think better of it, I lean in, bringing my lips to hers, just a feather of a touch.

  Her mouth parts on a gasp, breath racing across my lips.

  I remain still, because even though I fucking ache to kiss her, I promised her I wouldn’t until she asked. She wants it, I can see it, but she’s not ready and that’s my fault. I still have a lot to make up for.

  My nose skims her delicate cheek as I bring my mouth to her ear. “I’m going to leave now, Cupcake, because if I don’t I’m going to end up doing all sorts of things to you that you’re not ready for…at least not yet. I’ll help take care of Chuckie while you’re at work, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  My hands squeeze her hips, digging into the soft flesh as I figh
t to hold onto my control. “One day soon I’m going to have you, and when I do I’m going to fuck you with nothing on but these socks you’re wearing.”

  “Sawyer,” my name falls past her lips on a breathless whimper.

  I put an end to our torture and press a hard kiss to her forehead then walk out, keeping my promise to her, but it’s the hardest promise I’ve ever had to keep.

  Grace

  A strand of hair escapes my ponytail, falling into my face as I wipe down one of the many dirty tables we have after the crazy dinner rush.

  “Grace, darlin’, phone’s for you,” Mac calls from the kitchen.

  Frowning, I look over my shoulder at him. “Me?”

  “Yeah, want me to ask who?”

  “That’s all right, I’m comin’.” I carry back the stack of dirty dishes with me and deposit them in the sink before grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

  “Grace, it’s Cooper.”

  “Hi, Cooper,” I greet him in surprise, curious as to why he would be calling me, especially at work.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but can you come down to the station and see me?”

  Uneasiness skitters down my spine, a bad feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. “Is everything all right?”

  A beat of silence passes before he speaks. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to wait until you get here to talk about it.”

  This doesn’t sound good at all.

  “I can come pick you up,” he offers.

  I shake my head then remember he can’t see me. “No, it’s only a block away. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hang up, my hand visibly shaking.

  “Everything okay, darlin’?” Mac asks.

  “It was Cooper. He wants me to come down to the station.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. He wants to wait and tell me in person.”

  Worry darkens his expression, mirroring my own. “Do you want a ride?”

  “No, it’s fine. If Sawyer comes in before I get back can you let him know where I am?”

  “You bet. Make sure to call and let me know what’s going on.”

  “I will.” Grabbing my coat, I deliver him a quick kiss on the cheek then head out the door, givin’ speed walking a whole new meaning. My mind reels as I try to figure out what on earth this could be about. By the time I arrive at the police station, I’m a bundle of nerves.