Recipe for Love

by Aurora Rey

  She was such a damn perfectionist. Drew hadn’t picked up on that aspect of her personality at first. “I get that.” She paused. “Do you have a minute or are you running off to avert another crisis?”

  Hannah chuckled. “Oh, no. I’m done for the day.”

  “Great. I want to show you what came out of all this.”

  “Okay.” Hannah’s tone seemed mildly suspicious.

  “Actually, I have an even better idea. We don’t open for another hour. Go out front and let Carlton pour you a glass of wine. I’ll join you shortly.”

  “Uh.”

  “Just do it.” She offered her most charming smile. “Please?”

  Whether it was the charm or merely giving in to the offer to relax for a minute, she didn’t know. But Hannah relented. “I haven’t seen Nick all week. I guess I could stay for a bit.”

  “Perfect.”

  Hannah headed to the front of the house and Drew got to work. A few minutes later, she carried a pair of plates out to the bar. There was no sign of Nick, but Hannah was perched on one of the stools, a glass of wine in front of her. The juxtaposition of her—faded jeans, work boots, plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up—with the gleaming bar and white linen tablecloths stirred something in Drew.

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Hannah turned and smiled. “I’m always hungry.”

  Drew set the plates on the bar and took the stool next to her. She explained what each of them was. “These are the specials tonight.”

  Hannah took a bite of the bruschetta first, then the zucchini. “Wow.”

  “Thanks.” Seeing the pleasure on Hannah’s face sent a surge of warmth through her. “And if I’d had my tomatoes, I wouldn’t be serving either of them.”

  Hannah took a sip of wine. “I’m not sure I can bring myself to be glad I screwed up, but I am glad it turned out so well.”

  She tipped her head. “I’ll take that, I suppose.”

  It felt like they might be on the verge of a moment. Drew angled her body toward Hannah. Not that they would kiss in the middle of the restaurant, but she wanted to see how Hannah would respond. Hannah looked at her and, for a second, their eyes caught and held.

  But then Hannah’s attention shifted to something behind Drew. “I was looking for you,” she said.

  Nick. Drew turned and, sure enough, he stood behind her. “I had soccer practice with the boys this afternoon.”

  “Of course you did,” Hannah said.

  “If I’d known we were sampling things, I would have shown up sooner.”

  Drew laughed. “You realize, as the owner, you can sample whatever you want anytime you want.”

  “I keep forgetting.” He winked at her. “What do we have here?”

  Drew explained the dishes and, even though she didn’t have to, Hannah added the back story. Nick seemed to find the entire thing amusing. Then he tasted the dishes and told Hannah she should mess up orders more often, to which Hannah groaned. It was all so much easier and more relaxed compared to her first few interactions with Hannah. Before she could decide whether or not to say so, Chris, the hostess, walked by. Drew glanced at her watch and realized the doors would be open in a matter of minutes. “I better get back to the kitchen.”

  “Yeah.” Nick lifted his chin in challenge. “What am I paying you for?”

  “That.” Drew pointed at the now-empty plates. She turned to Hannah. “Thank you for bringing the tomatoes. I promise they will still go to excellent use.”

  “I’m sure they will.” Hannah smiled, but she looked exhausted.

  It struck Drew as funny that a day of chasing down some tomatoes seemed to take more out of her than a full day of manual labor. “Go home and take a load off. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Drew returned to the kitchen. If anything, she and Hannah had just made up. Not that they were technically fighting. So why did she have this weird unsettled feeling in her chest? Even as she told herself it didn’t make sense, she knew exactly what had caused it. The problem was she had no idea if Hannah felt the same way or if she’d ever get the chance to act on it. She shook her head, as if that might chase away the desire to spend more time with Hannah, to kiss her senseless, to see if those kisses might lead to more.

  She wasn’t one to pine and she had no intention to start now. Especially with a full slate of reservations and dinner service ahead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hannah’s invitation to dinner took Drew by surprise. She called it a peace offering for the tomato fiasco, as she had taken to calling it. Drew insisted it wasn’t necessary, that it hadn’t been a fiasco at all, but accepted the invitation anyway. She wasn’t about to pass up the chance to have dinner with Hannah, especially if that dinner was taking place at Hannah’s house.

  She pulled into the driveway. It might only be her second time there, but it felt familiar somehow. The first time had felt like an agreement to be friends. This time, Drew was less sure. Yes, Hannah insisted on doing something by way of apology for the tomato mix-up. But she could have done that with a gift of produce or a bottle of wine. Making dinner felt much more personal. Since she was more interested in the latter—getting to know Hannah more personally—she hadn’t argued.

  And now here she was, a bottle of wine in hand and no idea what to expect.

  Hannah’s front door was open, so she walked up the porch steps and opened the screen door. She paused for a moment in the doorway to announce her presence. “Hello?”

  “In the kitchen,” Hannah called.

  It felt for a second like they’d done this a million times before. It struck her just how appealing that notion was. She made her way through the living room to the kitchen at the back of the house. “It smells great in here.”

  “Thanks.” Hannah, in a floral print sundress with an apron over it, turned to her and smiled. Her feet were bare and the whole package proved to be a manifestation of a fantasy Drew didn’t know she had.

  “I…” She swallowed. “I brought a red, but if it doesn’t go with what we’re having, you can save it for some other time.” Why was she stuttering like an idiot all of a sudden?

  “Red is perfect, actually. Since I’m sure I’m no match for you in the kitchen, I thought I’d grill a steak.”

  The comment helped her relax. “I’m sure you’re more than competent in the kitchen, but I’d never say no to steak.”

  “Oh, good.” Hannah opened a drawer, pulled out a corkscrew, and handed it over. She pointed to a cabinet. “Glasses are there.”

  Drew busied herself opening the wine and pouring two glasses. She stole glances at Hannah, who seemed to be prepping a myriad of vegetables for the grill—zucchini and summer squash, wedges of sweet potato, thick slices of red onion. “Looks delicious.”

  “Anytime I don’t need to turn on the stove or oven in the summer feels like a win.”

  “When I’m at home, I completely agree.”

  Hannah smiled again. If Drew didn’t know better, she’d say it had a shy quality to it. “Thank you for coming, for letting me do something nice for you.”

  Oh. Of course that’s why she would be sheepish. Not a simmering attraction or any of the other reasons Drew might like to imagine. “I accepted your apology. I’m very glad to be here, but I hope you know it wasn’t necessary.”

  Hannah took a deep breath but didn’t argue. “I’m glad you’re here either way.”

  “Good.” That felt a bit more promising.

  “Do you mind bringing out the wine? I’ll grab the food.”

  Drew tucked the bottle in her arm, picked up the glasses, and followed Hannah out the back door, which was also opened to the screen. The table on the back deck had been set. The paisley linen napkins felt homey, the citronella candle already burning off to the side practical more than romantic. Not formal by any means, but much more intentional than the night
they’d shared BLTs and beers. “This is really nice.”

  Hannah smiled the same shy smile again, then went over to the grill and turned it on. Drew enjoyed watching her adjust the burners, adeptly position and move food around over the flames. A sexy mix of handy and domestic, although she knew better than to say as much out loud.

  They chatted about the weather, which felt more like legitimate conversation than small talk. Drew mentioned that her friend Baker was planning a visit. Hannah talked about her family, mostly her mother and sister, the social media maven. Everything about the meal was perfect, from the food to the view of the hills to the conversation. And even if it wasn’t technically a date, it was far superior to many of the dates Drew had been on. She liked to think it was a sign of how well they clicked, of things to come. All the same, she worried it indicated they’d landed in friend territory, never to kiss—or more than kiss—again.

  When they’d polished off the wine and finished eating, they settled into an easy silence. Just like the picnic. If it weren’t for the hum of arousal coursing through her veins, she might be tempted to call it relaxing. But there was that pesky hum. And having Hannah across from her, looking gorgeous and content, turned the volume distractingly high.

  Drew gave in to the urge to touch her, if only with a gentle nudge of her foot under the table. “If this is how you’re going to make things up to me, you have my permission to mess up anytime you’d like.”

  Hannah chuckled and rolled her eyes. She was never going to live that down. “Can’t we just agree to have dinner together again? I’m not fond of screwing up.”

  “That sounds even better.”

  Hannah took a deep breath. “Good.”

  “Does that mean you want to keep having dinner with me?” Drew’s teasing tone remained, but her eyes cooled.

  She winced slightly. “I do.”

  “Your mouth says yes, but the rest of you is screaming something else.” Drew frowned. “Like torture.”

  “It’s not that.” She never wanted to be one of those women who wanted to process everything to death, but she owed Drew the truth. “I do want to have dinner with you, spend time with you.”

  “I can feel the ‘but’ on the tip of your tongue.”

  “No but. I feel like I owe you an explanation, though.”

  “You really don’t.”

  Hannah shook her head. “That’s nice of you to say, but I want you to know that this hot and cold thing isn’t my style. I’m not trying to play games with you.”

  Drew’s eyebrows went up slightly. “Not trying to?”

  Hannah sat up straight. “I’m not playing games, but I admit my behavior might feel otherwise. I’ve been waffling.”

  Instead of laughing or asking her what she meant, Drew looked at her intently. “Why do you think that is?”

  Since she was telling the truth, she might as well go all in. “Obviously, I’m attracted to you.”

  Drew angled her head. “Obviously?”

  It helped that she was taking a lighthearted approach to all this. Hannah smiled. “Yes, but as we’ve discussed, I was pretty intent on not liking you.”

  “Right, right.” Drew nodded affably.

  “You did show up in my barn, mud all over your fancy shoes. You seemed so out of place and full of disdain. I couldn’t believe Nick hired you.”

  Hannah was afraid she might have been too blunt, but Drew laughed. “Those shoes will never be the same. For the record, I was dressed for a job interview. Fetching ingredients from the source was a complete surprise.”

  She’d been so quick to judge. She hated when people did that to her and here she was no better. “In retrospect, that makes perfect sense. I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time.”

  “And you called me a tweezer chef.”

  She cringed. It was a wonder Drew was even interested in her. “I said I thought you might be.”

  Drew’s eyes gleamed. Hopefully, that meant this was playful banter and not a dissection of all the ways Hannah was a jerk. Drew shrugged. “Oh, well, then.”

  “Is this your way of saying I owe you another dinner?”

  Drew shook her head, her expression suddenly serious. “I want to have dinner with you again, but not because you owe me.”

  “Oh.” Although unspoken, the underlying meaning of Drew’s words came across loud and clear. Needing something to do with her hands, Hannah stood to clear the dishes. “That’s good to know.”

  Drew joined her carrying things inside. “I’ll even offer to cook next time, at my place.”

  Next time. A frisson of anticipation ran through her. They’d not even followed through with the first time and Hannah was already looking forward to the next. Jenn would be so proud. “I’ll take care of these later.”

  Drew gestured to the sink. “I don’t mind doing dishes, you know. Didn’t we just establish I’m not that kind of chef?”

  It would have been so easy to laugh, to cede the point and stand chummily at the sink together. But she was afraid if she didn’t act now, she might lose her nerve. “Yes, but they’ll keep until later.”

  “If—”

  She didn’t let Drew finish. She turned toward her, taking only a second to appreciate the way the evening sunlight pouring in bathed Drew in an almost movielike glow. And then she did what she’d been wanting to do from the moment Drew kissed her the first time. She leaned in, took Drew’s face in her hands, and kissed her.

  Drew held herself in check, but barely. “I thought you said this was a terrible idea.”

  Hannah pulled back. Her eyes were dark with passion, pupils dilated. “I changed my mind.”

  If part of Drew thought she should step back, investigate the specifics of Hannah’s declaration, it was a small part. Small and quickly overwhelmed by the need that had been building in her for the last two months. She hauled Hannah back to her, let herself take what she’d been wanting for so long.

  She pushed her tongue into Hannah’s mouth. Hannah welcomed her in. There was nothing sweet or romantic about the scrape of Hannah’s teeth, the way her tongue slid and played over Drew’s. She filled her hands with Hannah’s hair. All that thick, beautiful hair. The smell of it had been haunting her dreams, the image of it spread over a pillow as Hannah looked up at her with longing.

  The image made her realize how close she was to taking Hannah right there in the kitchen. There was something to be said for sex on kitchen counters and dining room tables, but this wasn’t one of those moments. Knowing full well Hannah might change her mind again tomorrow made Drew want to do it right, make the most of it. She wrenched her mouth away. “Bed?”

  Hannah was already breathing hard. “Right. Yes. Follow me.”

  She took Drew’s hand and led them through the front of the house to the stairs. Without pausing, she ascended, pulling Drew behind. Having Hannah a few steps ahead gave her a lovely view of Hannah’s ass. She gave in, placing her free hand on it. Between her ass and her hip, actually, right where she could feel the sway of Hannah’s body as she climbed.

  Hannah pulled her into the first room, flipped a switch. A lamp by the bed came on, casting a soft glow. Drew tried to absorb a few details despite the singular focus in her brain. Sea green walls, paisley curtains, a quilt of pinks and greens and yellows on the bed—definitely a feminine space. The significance of being allowed into it wasn’t lost on her. She stopped walking but kept her grasp on Hannah’s hand.

  At the tug on her arm, Hannah stopped and turned. “What is it?”

  “I just need to make sure this is what you want. I don’t want to be something you regret in the morning.”

  Hannah smiled, slow and sensual. “I want this. You. No regrets.”

  Hannah’s consent, the articulation of her desire, was as much of a turn-on as the kiss. “Anything I should know? Likes, dislikes, things that will make you come unglued?”

  There was barely a foot between them, but Hannah took her time closing the distance. When no more than
a couple of inches remained, she stopped. She looked into Drew’s eyes, then down at her mouth. She waited a beat, then looked back into Drew’s eyes. “I’m not delicate and I don’t need you to be gentle.”

  More than a demand, more than an elaborate description of what Hannah wanted her to do, the simple declaration sent Drew into overdrive. She grabbed the fabric of Hannah’s dress at her hips and yanked it over her head. Underneath, Hannah wore nothing.

  “Underwear is so overrated in the summer, don’t you think?”

  Aware that her mouth was hanging open, Drew consciously closed it. She nodded. “I do now.”

  Hannah’s smile told her she’d done that on purpose. Without waiting for further instruction, Hannah went to work on Drew’s clothing. Although she was wearing considerably more than Hannah—a shirt, shorts, a sports bra, and boxers—Hannah dispensed with them in no time. “There, that’s so much better.”

  She enjoyed watching Hannah’s gaze rake over her. It helped to know the pure lust coursing through her veins was reciprocated. But even if part of her thought she could simply stare at Hannah’s body for hours, they weren’t there to look at each other all night. She stepped forward, running her hands up Hannah’s sides to her breasts.

  Hannah’s body leaned into the touch. Her eyes closed and a tiny sound escaped her lips. It took all of Drew’s willpower not to toss her on the bed and do all the things she’d been thinking about doing. Instead, she brushed her thumbs over Hannah’s nipples. They hardened instantly. She dipped her head, swiped her tongue over one of the peaks.

  “Mmm.”

  Hannah’s hum of pleasure made Drew smile. She went back and forth for a moment—nipping, sucking, and teasing. Hannah skimmed her fingers over the back of Drew’s neck, driving her just the right amount of crazy.

  Hannah shifted her hands to Drew’s face, placing one on each cheek and guiding Drew’s mouth to hers. The kiss had even more heat than the one downstairs and Drew responded with abandon. It made her think of her younger days, eagerness bordering on desperation.

  She walked them slowly back toward the bed. When they reached it, Hannah fell back, a smile of invitation on her lips. Drew didn’t need to be asked twice. She braced one knee next to Hannah, the other between her thighs. She held herself up on one elbow but allowed her body to press into Hannah’s. Hannah arched against her, intensifying the contact. Her arms snaked around Drew. She danced her fingers down Drew’s spine, then scraped her nails back up. It did wicked things to Drew’s already overloaded system. “Fuck.”