The Perfect Ingredient (Dare Valley)

by Ava Miles

  “Like I ever did.” Jill socked her. “Stop staring at my chest, Mo.”

  “I’m just jealous. How can we even be related?” She pointed to her own flat chest.

  Terrance had to have special male hearing, the kind able to signal that women were talking about breasts, because he made a beeline for their group.

  Natalie grabbed her hand. “Let’s go talk to my Uncle Arthur for a while.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said, letting Natalie drag her over to Arthur Hale, who sat at the head of a table with Natalie’s mom and the women Matt had dubbed his Easter Brigade, three sweet elderly ladies who dressed only in pastels and were the first volunteers on his campaign.

  Arthur leaned back in his chair. “Well, if it’s not the other Harvard Smarty Pants.”

  She leaned down and kissed his weathered cheek. It was his nickname for Jane, chosen to send a message to everyone in town that he approved of his future great niece-in-law. Elizabeth was grateful he’d extended the honor to her. Even though he was in his late seventies, the Pulitzer-Prize winning journalist still ran his legendary newspaper, The Western Independent, with help from his granddaughter, Meredith, and her husband, Tanner.

  “Hello, Arthur,” she said and nodded to everyone else with a soft smile.

  “Young Matthew had better show up soon, or I’ll be dozing off through his acceptance speech. We old people have earlier bed times, right, Joanie?” Arthur asked the woman sitting beside him, who was dressed in a lovely pale pink.

  “Speak for yourself, old man,” she told him.

  “Amen,” the other women chimed in.

  “Matt had a special surprise for Jane,” April told them. “He knows her dad’s old election parties were hard on her. He didn’t want her to get caught up in bad memories, so he took her and the dogs for a walk at their park at sunset, and since the day was nice and warm, he brought a picnic for them to enjoy.”

  “Is my brother the best man in the world or what?” Natalie asked, and Elizabeth had to agree.

  At that moment, the guests started to clap and whistle, and Elizabeth saw Jane and Matt jog in together through the crowd, holding hands and grinning like the world lay at their feet.

  She joined in the revelry as the couple climbed the raised dais at the back of the restaurant. Matt kissed Jane sweetly and looked into her eyes a moment before he picked up the mike.

  “I just heard the news from my campaign manager,” Matt told the audience. “It’s official. We won the primary! Get ready for November, folks!”

  Everyone broke into applause, and this time, people shouted their happiness from the crowd, including Natalie, who now had her arms wrapped around her mom.

  “This primary wasn’t what anyone in Dare Valley was expecting. Heck, even I didn’t know how it would go when I decided to run for mayor. Then I met my beautiful, talented, and awe-inspiring fiancé, Jane Wilcox. We weathered a pretty serious storm together, and I’m so proud she stood beside me. I’m even prouder that we never once lowered ourselves to the opposition’s negative campaign tactics.”

  The cheers were so loud, Elizabeth’s eardrums shook.

  Then he flashed that all-American smile that made him so likable. “Well, except for my mother, who confessed she took down some nasty campaign signs on Main Street.”

  People around her chuckled, but Elizabeth did not. The signs had targeted Jane, showing pictures of her as Raven.

  “The Hales have deep roots in this town, but never once have we ever held the honorable seat of mayor. Right, Uncle Arthur?”

  Elizabeth looked over to see Arthur raise a hand in the air in response.

  “My campaign manager tells me I will likely run unopposed for mayor. The other party doesn’t think anyone can beat me, but we’ll see if that holds true. November is a long time away. I’ve told you what I stand for, and I’m not planning to talk your ear off tonight. We’re going to have fun and party and enjoy this moment. I want to thank everyone who believed in me and voted for me, but I especially want to thank my campaign volunteers and election consultant, Rob, who made this happen. Have fun and thank you again!”

  Matt and Jane left the stage and were immediately surrounded by well wishers.

  Then the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and Elizabeth knew Terrance was staring at her. Her eyes swept across the crowd until she found him, looking so damn sexy in that denim chef jacket he’d worn at the tasting.

  Her eyes met his, and in them, she could see the same confusion and lust she felt.

  Her whole body tingled in response.

  They both wanted, needed this longing to end.

  But it wasn’t that simple.

  What in the world were they going to do?

  Chapter 8

  Terrance had never cared for politics, since the system had failed him before he was old enough to vote. Still, Matt Hale seemed to be one of those rare candidates with integrity and a solid vision.

  Not that politics could distract him from covertly watching Vixen. Correction. Elizabeth.

  Not even coming across the perfect ingredient, something he’d traveled the world to find, could prevent him from staring at her. And that was significant. In Istanbul’s famous Spice Market, he’d once spent ten days going from vendor to vendor in search of it.

  He’d set aside his pursuit for the perfect ingredient only once—for the summer he and Vixen had spent together—and he had a sinking feeling she was going to distract him again.

  Even though he could purchase saffron at two thousand dollars a pound, nothing satisfied the hollowness at his core, the emptiness that stretched back to his early childhood, spent with a resentful mother and the specter of an absent father. Cooking was more than food to Terrance. It had filled a void in his bones, saving him from God knows what kind of life on the streets, but it hadn’t completed him. The perfect ingredient would do that. He only had to find it.

  When Elizabeth left him, he’d redoubled his efforts, traveling to the world’s most illustrious food markets. In Brazil at Kauppatori Market, he’d sampled smoked reindeer. In India at Khari Baoli, he’d bought the most delicate cardamom in existence. And still he’d ventured to China to the Kreta Ayer Wet Market to taste the most innovative curry blend to ever cross his palate.

  But none were the perfect ingredient.

  Looking at Elizabeth, even without all the sequins and makeup, created an odd warmth in his belly, like the comforting simmer of a fragrant stew on a winter’s day. Her slender right arm was bare in the slinky gold number she’d chosen. All he wanted to do was kiss his way up the inside of her wrist. And then there were her legs… The dress ended a few inches shy of her knees, and well, he wanted to kiss his way up her smooth thighs too. She was a sexy siren tonight, and no woman could compete with her. Not that any ever had in his mind.

  His heart warned him to be careful. The Dear John letter she’d given him had left a permanent dagger in that mysterious organ. But he could not stop himself from trying to corner her again. She’d successfully eluded him all night.

  Running meant fear. He knew because the same restlessness raced through his blood.

  Along with lust and curiosity and a whole bunch of other uncomfortable emotions.

  “I didn’t realize how deep things ran between you two,” Rhett drawled, settling a hand on his shoulder. Fixated on Elizabeth, Terrance hadn’t even heard his approach.

  Terrance took the bourbon his friend shoved at him and downed it in one swallow. “Leave it alone.”

  His friend’s sigh was long-suffering. “You know how much I love her, and God knows you and I have been friends quite a spell. Just be careful. She’s more tender-hearted than she lets on, and even though you’re a tough guy like the rest of us, I have a feeling the right woman turns you into pudding on the inside.”

  No one used more colorful language than Rhett, and Terrance couldn’t help but smile. “Pudding? Never been fond of the stuff.”

  “You know what I mean.”


  Terrance’s eyes were still pinned to Elizabeth. Her movements were less bold and assertive now, he realized. Perhaps the hooker heels had given her hips a more pronounced sway, or she’d been hamming up her role. Either way, there was still a sensual rhythm to her movements, but it was all her.

  “She’s more beautiful as herself than I ever imagined,” he told Rhett, not fearing anyone would overhear them in the corner of the restaurant.

  “You never saw her in her…all together?” his friend asked in shock.

  Laughter tickled the back of his throat. “I saw her naked plenty, but never without her makeup on.” Naked, her beauty had stolen his breath, and his blood beat hot at the thought of seeing all of that curvy, soft flesh again. “I didn’t even realize she wore a wig. Explains why she told me not to touch her hair.”

  “Shit.”

  “Shit is right.” Terrance withdrew a hundred and waved it in front of Rhett’s face. “Giving up swearing is an expensive proposition.”

  “I should start charging myself per word too. Dustin needs a good role model, even though my mouth is as pristine as white sheets on a clothesline compared to what it used to be.”

  Terrance handed him a hundred. “Here’s my donation to your Cuss Fund. You can pick your favorite charity.”

  “What’s yours?” Rhett asked as one of Terrance’s hand-picked servers stopped and offered them some of the excellent chocolate chip cookies they’d baked as a nod to Dare Valley’s small town community.

  Terrance and his staff had chuckled about baking something so simple and wholesome, but it was Matt’s favorite, and the secret to catering events was catering to the hosts’ taste. The cookies were moist, the chocolate decadent—as only a special dark chocolate from Belgium could be—and the hint of coconut oil instead of butter set them apart. Terrance made everything with his special touch, even chocolate chip cookies.

  “The Children’s Aid Society in New York,” he said.

  “Sounds nice. I’ll probably donate it to a charity that helps women who’ve experienced violence.”

  “That’s a great cause.”

  As a kid, Terrance had seen plenty of defenseless women get preyed upon. As a teenager, he’d started intervening. He might be a violent man—he’d been told as much—but he abhorred violence against women.

  And it made him wonder for the hundredth time what Elizabeth had been scared of the other night.

  “Why does Elizabeth keep a baseball bat by her front door?” he asked his friend.

  Rhett’s mouth turned grim. “I’ll let her tell you that, but it’s another reason for you to take care with her.”

  That comment punched into his system, like a bruising upper cut to the jaw. And he wondered again if she’d run from him because of his fight with that asshole poker player who’d disrespected her and put his hands on her. It made more sense now. She’d been hurt before, and God help him, the anger and rage that rose inside him at the thought of anyone hurting her only confirmed what he already knew.

  He had to be with her again.

  Yes, they would have to wade through the old anger and mistrust, but he wanted her, needed her. He was old enough to stop questioning why.

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

  Rhett waved at Mac, who was talking with his wife, Peggy, by the bar. “Not too long ago, Mac and I had the same conversation about Abbie. I’ll tell you the same thing he told me. We’ll always be friends, regardless of what happens between you two.”

  This time Terrance slapped him on the back. “I appreciate that, man. Time for me to make my move.”

  The center of his attraction broke away from her group and headed to the bathroom. He increased his pace, and when she reached the hallway, he snagged her arm and pulled her into the empty side room, where his staff kept their things.

  “Hi,” he said softly, seeing the pulse pound in her neck. “We haven’t talked yet.”

  “You’re not interested in talking,” she told him in a flat tone.

  “Now that’s not true. I talk with you more than I’ve ever talked to a woman.”

  As if she’d been holding her breath, it expelled in a rush, and he felt it across every inch of his skin.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Vulnerability shone in her eyes. “More so than Vixen?”

  He finally touched her, pushing a strand of her blond hair back from her face. “Yes. But in a different way. You’re more approachable like this.”

  “You never had any trouble approaching me before.”

  Going for honesty, he stroked her cheek. “When I first met you, I didn’t expect much more than hot sex. And then—”

  “We talked,” she finished for him. “I know. I didn’t expect anything more either.”

  “I guess that’s why we both ended up being surprised with each other. Elizabeth, I still want you.”

  She swallowed but said nothing.

  “I want you. Again.”

  “Is that all?” she quipped, looking over his shoulder, her body heat calling to him like a hearth fire in a snowstorm.

  “Why are you fighting it? Yes, we have some shit to sort through, but we still know how to talk to each other, and God knows there’s plenty of heat between us.”

  Her mouth quirked up. “Made you swear.” It was said like a gloat.

  “You’re costing me a fortune,” he admitted. “This torture has to end, Elizabeth.”

  She pushed against his chest, and he stepped back. “I’m not so sure. It’s not going to be just about sex if we get together, Terrance.”

  “It wasn’t before,” he admitted. “Is that why you left without saying goodbye?”

  Her hand rested on the doorknob. “I had my reasons. Anyway, if I hadn’t ended it, you would have. Eventually. I wish you’d stop being angry about it.”

  “Don’t fucking tell me how I should feel.”

  His angry words seemed to shake the air between them, making her shiver.

  “I need to get back,” she said and opened the door.

  Taking out two hundred dollars, he deposited the bills in his pocket and stood there for ten seconds before following her.

  As he headed toward Elizabeth, Natalie stepped into his path. “Chef T.”

  “You’re not going to stop me from getting to her,” he told her.

  She studied him and braced her hands on her hips. “I am tonight.”

  His eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Elizabeth now stood, surrounded again by Natalie’s sisters and Jane, whose gaze held a clear warning.

  “Fine. I don’t want to ruin the party, but you can tell her that this isn’t over.”

  His gaze clashed with Elizabeth’s. Her pulse still beat strong in her throat. He let his mouth curve to convey he was only slightly amused.

  “I’m not your messenger. You can tell her yourself,” Natalie said. Then her gaze caught on someone or something to the right, and her face seemed to freeze.

  He looked over. A distinguished man with silver hair in a suit stood on the outskirts of the party. A man came up and hugged him, joined by a young boy.

  “Who is he?” he asked.

  She shook herself and regained her composure. “My father. We didn’t know he was coming tonight. He had a surgery scheduled.”

  Her sisters locked arms and went over, leaving Elizabeth to wander over to the Mavens and the Butlers. He kept his eyes on the Hales. Natalie’s sisters awkwardly hugged their father. He realized the other man was their brother, and the kid could only be his son. The family resemblance was unmistakable. Then Matt Hale came over with Jane, and the tense family greeting continued.

  “I don’t want to keep you,” he said, wondering what the older man had done to create such a rift between him and his children. Terrance didn’t know much about the Hales, but he knew they were close.

  Her smile had teeth. “Please do. In fact, why don’t I introduce you to my mother? She won’t admit it, but she’d appreciate a little moral support t
onight. It’s the first time she’s seen my dad since she left him in the fall.”

  Now he had a good picture in his mind.

  “I’d enjoy meeting her, and since you’re both from Dare Valley, you can tell me what you think this place’s perfect ingredient is. I love to hear about what a place has to offer and how I might use it in my cooking.” Her suggestion to add the honeycomb from a local Dare Valley producer to the dessert on his new menu only made him want to hear what else she had to offer him.

  The sparkle returned to her eyes. “That would be fresh-picked huckleberries from the mountains. My mom used to make them into jam, but our neighbor used them on venison. I felt bad for Bambi, but I pretty much gobbled it up.”

  Huckleberries.

  “Do they taste like blueberries?” he asked, feeling that familiar excitement. “I had some in New Hampshire once.”

  “No, ours here in the Rockies are different. They’re ruby red and translucent. Tastier. I’ve had ones both sweet and tart. Their flavor is intense because they grow in the wild.”

  “When can you pick them?”

  She threaded her arm through his and led him in the opposite direction of the woman who was captivating his thoughts. “July. I know a place in the mountains. If you’d like, I’ll take you, but you have to cook for me.”

  “Deal.”

  His heart started to beat faster like it always did when he learned about a possible new contender, but he couldn’t stop from looking back over his shoulder at Elizabeth.

  His pulse tripled, and for a minute he forgot about the huckleberries. He cursed under his breath and drew out another hundred.

  Natalie only raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to lose all your money if you continue on like this.”

  “I have plenty of money,” he growled.

  When they arrived at the table clustered with people in their golden years, he had no trouble picking out Natalie’s mother. She had the same lovely cheekbones as her daughter.

  “Mom, this is Chef T.”

  When he took April’s hand, he made sure to hold it while he talked to her. Even he could see the valiant effort she was making not to look past him at her estranged husband.