Hot Crossed Buns

Book Two in the Matchmaking Chef series....

Wild Katie Long, she'll never settle down, will she? But Chris Marks has had his eye set on her for a long time. She just doesn't know it yet. When Chris hires Suzie to set him up with a romantic dinner for two, so he can woo Katie in style, Suzie does all she can to set the scene and the mood. 

Thing is, Katie isn't about to be wooed and she's hotter than hot crossed buns when she figures out what Suzie and Chris are up to. Then Suzie turns the tables on both of them, when she switches the mood by supplying Chris with a couple of items that just might tame Katie after all: handcuffs and a leather riding crop.

Excerpt: 


Prologue

Katie Long's fingers trembled even though she had a death-grip on the steering wheel. Her sight blurred, she shook her head in an attempt to clear the glaze over her eyes. Not happening. With a gasp, she gunned the engine of her Mustang GT and whipped to the side of the road, gravel arcing behind her as she narrowly avoided the ditch of this back country highway.

At least she'd gotten out of Legend before she totally lost it.

Wouldn't do to have him see her crying.

The sonofabitch.

She pressed the brake--much too hard--and jolted forward with the rapid stopping of the vehicle. At the same time, she let out ragged sob, and whacked her forehead on the steering wheel. She was tempted to bang her stupid brain against it.

Just in case repentance did come with beating one's head up against something, she gave her forehead a good hit at the thing.

"Ow. Dammit."

Then she let loose with a stream of sobs. Tears spilled over. Which was so, so unlike her. She was Katie Long! She didn't cry.

She was tough.

Wild.

Crazy.

Left the boys and made them cry.

Lifting her head, she leaned back against the headrest and at last switched off the engine. After a couple of moments of gulping back sobs and swiping at her runny nose and dripping eyes, she got enough courage to look at herself in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, good Lord in heaven." Her face was splotched, shiny, and smudged in all the wrong places. Was that snot stringing back toward her ear? Gross.

"Damn you, Chris Marks," she whispered while rummaging for a napkin or used tissue or something in the glove box to wipe the mucous out of her hair. "That'll teach you to ask me to marry you."

But after she found a tissue, and looked back into the mirror again, her head shook in disbelief and confusion.

He asked her to marry him.

Got down on one knee.

Even had a ring.

Goddamn him!

Didn't he know what everyone else in Legend knew? That wild Katie Long would never settle down? That she didn't want the picket fence and two-point-five kids and the dog and mini-van?

"Damn you, Chris Marks," she sputtered again while dabbing at her face, "for going and doing the right thing." She sniffed and stared at the reflection of her eyes. "When all I have ever been about was doing the wrong thing."

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