Cooking Up Romance. Lynne Marshall

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      The sun was shining and the temperature a pleasant seventy-five degrees when Lacy pulled onto the Gardner construction site Monday at 11:15 a.m. Zack had asked her to be there by noon, and she wanted plenty of time to set up and heat the grill. Following his instructions from Friday, she drove toward a small group of sycamore trees set away from his modular office and parked in the shade beneath them. The sound of a thousand woodpeckers wreaking havoc jumbled her thoughts. The crew was obviously hard at work framing the next batch of houses. She hoped that meant they’d be hungry.

      Before she set the brake on her truck, a young girl shot out of the office missile-straight through the dirt toward her. Lacy climbed from the cab just in time to meet the little brown-haired cutie as she hit the truck steps.

      “Are you the food lady?” Breathless, the child inhaled before she blurted the next phrase. “I love pink!”

      Grinning, because what else was Lacy supposed to do under the adorable circumstances, she nodded. “I am, and I love pink, too.”

      “Pretty apron.” Could those dark eyes look any brighter?

      “Why thanks. I like your sparkly pink T-shirt, too.”

      “Thanks!”

      “Emma, honey, leave Ms. Winters alone so she can get set up.” Zack wasn’t far behind, looking not only apologetic but impressive in a tan work shirt, the familiar snug jeans and work boots. He hadn’t worn his hard hat, and she got a good view of his due-for-a-cut dark blonde hair. Also impressive. This was his daughter? Which probably meant he was married, too. Of course he’d be.

      Poof went her secret fantasy of picking up where they’d left off when she was eleven. The absurd thought almost made her laugh outright.

      “We were just introducing ourselves,” Lacy said, trying not to give away her disappointment over him likely being married while also trying to sound upbeat, in case Emma was about to get in trouble for rushing the truck.

      He held back a bit, letting Emma be. The girl fidgeted like a little bunny. “We don’t want to interfere with your setup.”

      “I do have a few things to pull together, so…”

      “Can I help?” Emma blurted.

      Would it be a help or hindrance and throw her off schedule to find something for Emma to do? “Um, tell you what, give me half an hour to set up my kitchen, then I’ll let you put out the napkins and plastic utensils.”

      “Okay!” Such enthusiasm.

      Why was she here, anyway? Oh right, spring break, but did that mean Zack’s wife also worked? Probably. Two-income households were a sign of the times, especially in California.

      “Great,” Zack said, a pleasing glint in his impressive green eyes.

      Was that glint from being a happily married man? She wasn’t looking anyway; in fact, she’d been hiding out from all things “living” for the last year, focusing solely on getting her dad’s truck redone and taking it on the road. Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head was really disappointed.

      “We’ll be back later.”

      Later. Oh, right, she had a job to do—impress the heck out of him! She hoped later meant he would also order lunch. Handing out free coffee and pie samples to his men on Friday was one thing—who didn’t want free stuff? But bringing the customer back to order lunch, in this case fifty construction guys, give or take a dozen, was a wide bridge to cross. She hoped she’d made a good enough impression to coax at least half of them back.

      The thought of having to earn her way into a job made her heart flutter, or maybe it was the extra sneak peek she’d taken of Zack’s backside while he’d guided his delightful daughter by her shoulder back to the office. Quit looking! You’re not interested.

      Besides, he’s married.

      Scratch flirting off the day’s agenda, snort, as if she would if she had the nerve in the first place. This man was boss material. She needed a job not a crush.

      She couldn’t very well stand around and gawk at a really fine male specimen—she had work to do. Before she reentered her truck, she opened the outside menu, which listed the complete rundown of wraps, at affordable prices considering their size and contents. All self-explanatory, too. Chicken Done Right, Put a Steak in It, Ham It Up, Eat Your Veggies, Name That Tuna, Eggs-xactly, and Down by the Sea, a daily seafood special, today’s being a cold wrap of bay shrimp with her unique take on coleslaw. Plus, the day’s assortment of hand pies—apple, peach, blueberry and puddin’, today’s flavor being chocolate. Who wouldn’t want to try out her menu at least once?

      With hope cinching up her insecurity, she stepped back into the food truck and got right to work heating the grill, opening the vents, setting out the marinated steak and chicken, and all the other accoutrements.

      True to her word and exactly a half hour later, little Emma popped up on the doorstep. Like a puppy off a leash. “Are you ready for my help?”

      “I sure am.” As Lacy scrambled to grab the paper napkins and box of plastic utensils, СКАЧАТЬ