Romance in the Rain

by Anthology

  “I’m so happy, JD,” she said. “This is probably the second happiest day of my life. Imagine having them so close together.”

  “Are you ready?” he asked her. A part of him still found it hard to believe that Maya—beautiful, independent Maya—was throwing in her lot with his, of her own free will. He felt as though he’d won the lottery against impossible odds.

  The look she gave him erased his doubts, at least for the moment. She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am so lucky, so blessed, to have found you,” she whispered against his throat.

  JD was so full of emotion he couldn’t speak. He kissed her ear, her eyes, the tip of her nose, her lips. “I love you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And I love our little girl. I’ll love you both forever.”

  She let go and gave him a gentle push. “Save it for the ceremony. You’re not allowed to make me cry just yet. Now go on. Get out there and make an honest woman of me.”

  About the Author

  Clare Tisdale has written books in a variety of genres, including romance, young adult, women’s fiction, and mystery. Clare loves to create new worlds into which her readers can escape from everyday life. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two children.

  Visit her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/clare.tisdale.3.

  Follow her blog at claretisdale.blogspot.com.

  ALSO BY CLARE TISDALE

  “Falling Angel” (Available on Amazon)

  What’s Wrong With Mr. Perfect?

  By

  Sherri Shaw

  Chapter 1

  Seattle, Washington State, July, 2012

  “Have you noticed nobody holds hands anymore?” Chef Ivy Turin picked up a tomato from the pile of neatly displayed produce at Pike Street Market. “It was my favorite part of dating in high school. There was no PDA allowed in the halls, but my boyfriend would sneak up next to me and slip his fingers through mine. That simple little gesture made me feel special.”

  Beth, her sous chef, eyed her with sarcastic amusement. “You are special.”

  Ivy selected several more tomatoes and put them in the cloth grocery bag. Handing the items to the cashier, she fished money from her pocket. “And you’re as jaded as the necklaces in the next stall.”

  “I’m jaded? You’re the one who hasn’t had a date since you dumped Kevin,” Beth said, examining an odd-looking fiddlehead fern. “Although I suppose I can’t blame you for being cautious after what he did to you. Stealing from the restaurant to cover his gambling debt was beyond wrong, but there are good guys out there.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Ivy said, accepting the change from the cashier. Although nine months had passed since the breakup, Kevin’s betrayal still stung. It wasn’t as much about the money he embezzled, but the deceit it was predicated upon.

  “I realize it’s cliché but you need to forget about him and move on. Maybe you could start with your perfect high school boyfriend,” Beth said, moving to the next stall. “He might be available.”

  “Are you searching for the perfect man?” the jade vendor behind the counter asked. He had an Australian accent and pale blue eyes disconcerting in their intensity.

  Beth pointed at Ivy. “Her, not me. She’s—well, she used to be—a hopeless romantic.”

  The vendor gave Ivy a speculative look before lifting up a simple silver chain with a green jade amulet hanging from it. “If you truly want to find this elusive perfect man, and restore your faith in true love, this necklace will be your good luck talisman.”

  He tried to hand it to Ivy, but she refused. “It’s beautiful, but—”

  Leaning forward, he clasped her wrist and pressed the necklace into her palm. “It’s a gift.”

  Ivy expected the jade to be cool to the touch, but it heated her skin, sending an unexpected jolt of energy throughout her body. Pulling away, she dismissed the unusual sensation as a consequence of the double espresso she’d recently finished. All of this talk of magic was giving her the creeps.

  “I couldn’t. It’s too much.” She tried to pass it back, but he merely grinned.

  “The first step to finding true love is acceptance,” he said, winking at Beth. “Take the necklace. Wear it with hope in your heart, and when you find the perfect man, everything will become clear.”

  Amused by his ridiculous statement, Ivy reluctantly released the clasp and slipped the trinket around her neck. “I’ll take the necklace if you and a friend come to my restaurant, Vicenzo’s, for dinner some time. My treat.”

  “That sounds like a fair trade,” he said, nodding with approval at her offer before turning to help a new customer.

  “Well, that was weird,” Ivy said as she and Beth made their way through the gathering tourists to Vicenzo’s located in a coveted position at the heart of the market. As she pushed through the crowd, she fingered the pennant lying surprisingly light on her chest. She felt odd about accepting jewelry from a stranger, but his piercing stare had made her feel obligated to take his generous gift. “I can’t believe he gave me this. Somehow dinner for two doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “It is more than generous. After the article in Seasoned Chef comes out, he’ll be lucky to get a table. Vicenzo’s will be rocking even more than it already is,” Beth predicted.

  Ivy opened the restaurant’s glass door and followed Beth inside. The lunch seating had started and a line of customers jostled for position at the hostess desk. The familiar aromas of oregano, garlic, fragrant cheeses, and fresh baked bread caught her attention and she inhaled a deep breath. She shifted the bag on her hip, worrying her lip. Quarters were already tight in the restaurant. Although it encompassed three levels with expansive views of the Puget Sound on one side and the stream of diverse market goers on the other, the space was small with no option to expand. It was flattering to realize her cooking was to be featured in such a well-recognized magazine, but she wasn’t sure if the attention was a help or a hindrance. She liked being busy, Vicenzo’s was a big part of her life, but she longed for someone to share her success with. Despite Kevin’s betrayal, she wanted to believe in happily-ever-after. Rubbing the necklace, she wished it was possible to meet the perfect man.

  The outer door opened and another couple walked in. The crowd shifted. While Beth quickly moved through the double doors into the kitchen, Ivy was forced to wait for one of the servers to pass with a tray full of drinks. She turned sideways to give the server more space, and the strap on the cloth bag she held slipped. A tomato tumbled out, bounced off a bar stool, and flew into the air. Lunging forward, she made to grab it at the exact instant a masculine hand did the same. In her momentum, she stumbled the slightest bit, and her outstretched palm connected with the tomato with more force than she intended. The pressure of their combined hands shattered the delicate skin with a sickening splat, before showering them both with ruby red juice.

  Ivy raised a mortified gaze to his and nearly fell into pools of vivid green eyes framed with chocolate brown lashes that matched his closely cropped hair. The sounds around her seemed to disappear and she wondered if she was having some sort of seizure. She had never met somebody who could literally block out time and space. He was model gorgeous, the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her entire life. Dumbfounded, she stared at him.

  He stared back.

  Her gaze locked with his, she slowly became aware of his hand still linked with hers, warm, alive, and sticky. Embarrassment came flooding back to her. The quiet encompassing her mere seconds before dropped away and voices seemed to amplify as if time had sped up to its normal rate. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” she asked, dragging him behind the bar and over to the sink before releasing his hand.

  He turned on the facet and began to wash up, his eyes bright with amusement. “I think I’ll survive.”

  Staring at his firm chiseled lips, Ivy was flustered all over again. “Your jacket is probably ruined. Let me grab some club soda. I’ll try to blot out some of the stain.
”

  He dried his hands before slipping off the ruined coat to reveal a blue T-shirt which molded to his wide chest, exposing his cut physique. “It’s all right. I will take it to the drycleaner.”

  “I’ll gladly pay. Send me the bill,” she said, her cheeks impossibly warm. The cheesy line Is it hot in here, or is it you? came to mind, and she stifled a hysterical laugh.

  Shaking his head, he leaned toward her with a wicked grin. “Like I said, I’ll survive.”

  More people crowded into the lobby and another server rushed out of the wait station. As much as Ivy wanted to stay and stare into his dreamy face, she was needed on the line. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she didn’t want to let him leave. “At least let me buy you lunch.”

  He laughed, an endearing dimple peeking out at the action. “Are you asking me out?”

  “I simply meant I would comp your table. I’m the owner.”

  “You are Vicenzo?”

  “It’s a long story, but yes, I am. My friends call me Ivy.”

  “Sam.” He held out his hand and she was forced to reciprocate. His palm brushed along hers, broad and calloused. She expected the perfunctory handshake, but he held her hand lightly, turning it over in his own. “Your skin is unbelievably soft.”

  The look in his eyes intensified and Ivy swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “It’s from prepping salmon, the oils, you know. It’s our house specialty. You should try it for lunch.”

  “If you join me. My lunch appointment canceled. I was leaving when your tomato attacked me.”

  She grinned at his teasing.

  A waiter buzzed past, reminding Ivy she was needed in the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to skip out of work. Before her was a totally gorgeous man, smoking hot, and obviously into her. Thinking maybe she might accept his offer, she glanced over her shoulder and spied Beth. Her assistant was red-faced, her voice raised over the incessant banging in the kitchen as she directed the line. Ivy sighed with genuine regret. “I can’t. Unfortunately, I’m working a double shift today. “

  “You have to eat some time. How about if I come back when you’re done? We can have a late dinner,” he suggested.

  Peering down at the floor, she shuffled her foot before meeting his gaze again. “I get off at nine.”

  “Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

  Turning on his heel, he walked away. Ivy stood where he left her, her eyes glued to his departing figure. He might look nice from the front, but he was equally fine from the back. She waved a hand before her warm face. Although he was wearing standard guy fare, jeans and a T-shirt, he exuded an ingrained elegance. Her eyes traveled from his shoulders down to his incredibly nice ass and stayed there until he disappeared from sight.

  Chapter 2

  Ivy stirred the large pan of bisque. It was late, but she was strangely alert. Although she was nervous about tonight, she could barely wait to see Sam again. She glanced up at the clock for the hundredth time and her heart began to beat faster. It was five minutes to nine.

  “Good God, why didn’t you tell me who you were seeing?” Beth hissed, pushing through the double doors leading from the dining room.

  Ivy put the lid back on the soup and gave her friend a curious look. “I told you his name was Sam and I’m not seeing him. It’s just dinner.”

  “With Sam “Knute” Rockney, all American quarterback, and two-time Super Bowl champion for the Seattle Pioneers, not to mention one of People magazine’s fifty most beautiful people.”

  Ivy’s earlier excitement was immediately replaced by trepidation. She’d thought he was a hot guy, now he was some kind of superstar? Why would he be interested in her when he could have any girl in the world? “Damn, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “Yes, it is. Don’t worry, he’s in the bar. My darling boyfriend will keep Sam occupied until you do your makeup and change into some girly clothes.”

  “I don’t have anything more girly. When I woke up this morning I wasn’t expecting to have a date tonight.” Ivy rushed over to the sanitation sink and eyed herself in the mirror. She removed her chef’s hat to expose her sleek brown hair confined within its customary ponytail. The mascara she had applied in the morning was still in place and the black made her hazel eyes pop. The rest of her face was devoid of makeup. Throughout her hectic day, she hadn’t thought about what to wear. Turning her back to the mirror, she glanced down at her once pristine white chef jacket, now splattered with food, and baggy black striped pants. Underneath she was wearing a ratty old white wife-beater. Her outfit hardly screamed sex appeal. “I wish you hadn’t told me. Now I’m unsure how to act.”

  “Be yourself,” Sam said from the doorway. Ivy’s pulse thrummed at the sight of him appearing impossibly gorgeous in worn jeans and a casual button up brown shirt, the cuffs rolled to expose his powerful forearms. “It smells delicious in here.”

  “That’d be my cue to leave,” Beth said, winking at Ivy. Flashing Sam a flirty grin, she left the kitchen.

  Ivy pasted on a false smile, feeling decidedly awkward now they were alone. She glanced around the kitchen and her eyes settled on the bottle of wine she had set aside. “I hope you’re hungry. I made salmon.”

  “Starving,” he said, his eyes settling on her lips. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

  Her heart raced and she wondered if it was her overactive imagination or if he’d meant something else? To cover her confusion, she poured two glasses of her favorite Amarone. Handing one to him, she lifted the other to her lips, drinking deeply before placing it on the stainless steel counter. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to greet you at the door. I still haven’t caught up from today. It’s always crazy on sunny days.” She grabbed the ever present bar towel from her apron and used it as a hot pad to remove their dinner from the oven. “There’s a table in here we can eat at, or we can move into the dining room if you prefer.”

  Sam smiled, flashing a startling grin. “Let’s stay in here. I’m curious to watch you in your element.”

  She was pleased she had instructed the head busser to set the table with a tablecloth and fresh flowers from the market. It made the atmosphere somehow more intimate.

  Grabbing two dishes from under the heat lamp, she began to plate the food. The chore was second nature, but having him watch her was nerve-wracking. Her hands shook the slightest bit as she reached for some parsley. Arranging the garnish, she used the action to cover up her nervousness. The kitchen was large but narrow and despite him standing a few feet away from her, his presence was overwhelming. Scooping up the last of the salmon dish, she chanced a glance over at him.

  He was eyeing the food with interest. “Have you always been this great a chef?”

  “You haven’t tried my cooking.” Picking up the plates, she moved past him, catching a whiff of his clean scent. Her back to him, she closed her eyes and inhaled. Was he f’n dreamy or what? “Can you grab the wine?”

  “Sure, but there’s one thing I have to do first.” Although she couldn’t see him, she sensed his presence close behind. She sat the plates down and her spine nearly melted when he held out the chair for her. Although she had dated Kevin for over two years, he had never shown her such courtesy. She took a seat and watched as Sam went back to the line to grab her wine glass plus the bottle.

  He placed them on the table before sitting opposite. “Bad chefs don’t receive five star reviews.”

  “But naughty ones hooking up with the editors do,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  Sam picked up the black napkin. “How do you think I landed the cover of Sports Illustrated? I feel so cheap.”

  Ivy laughed, sipping her wine. “Beth tells me you play football. You must’ve played in college.”

  Sam picked up his glass and eyed her over the rim. “At the University of Washington.”

  “What did you major in?” Gazing at him, she acknowledged he was even better looking than she recalled and if he had won the Super Bowl, h
e was obviously an excellent football player. She wondered if he skirted the academics like a lot of athletes.

  “Biology. I was a science nerd,” he said, raising his fork to his enticing mouth. His eyes closed, making him appear even more delectable. The fact that he was intelligent added icing on the cake. “This is fantastic, and the wine really complements it.”

  Smart, athletic, and easy on the eye, she was curious to know in what arena he was lacking. She hoped it wasn’t in the sex department. If it wasn’t good, then she might as well wrap it up right now. “It’s my twist on a classic puttanesca. I realize a lot of people prefer white with fish, but this dish is heavy and can hold up to a robust wine.” Habit made her pick up her fork, but she had no appetite. She was jittery, but in a good way. “Somehow I can’t picture you as a nerd.” You’re too perfect, Ivy silently added, fingering the amulet at her throat.

  It hummed under her fingertips as the vendor’s words skated across her mind, If you truly want to find the perfect man, and restore your faith in true love, then this necklace will be your good luck talisman.” She dropped her hand, shaking off the crazy notion. It was merely a coincidence that she wished to meet the man of her dreams and Sam showed up. The necklace had nothing to do with it.

  Right?

  “Yes I was, and I guess I still am,” he shrugged. “I love football, but it’s a profession with an expiration date. My other passion is science and how to use it to better the world. Imagine what something as simple as fresh water can do for people living in undeveloped countries. The technology is basic. Distributing it is the hard part.”

  “And I thought I was doing the world a favor by sharing my cannoli recipe.” The same feeling of overt shame she experienced every time she turned the television channel away from the charity asking for donations to feed the children hit her. How many times had she written down the number intending to call, but never followed through? She vowed, once she returned home, she would sponsor a child. Instead of making her feel better, however, she felt even more guilty for being guilted into it. She drained her wine.