One taste leaves them wanting more…
INGREDIENTS:
Francisco “Frisco” Martinelli. Hot and spicy. Beautiful on the outside, dark and damaged on the inside. Handle with extreme caution.
Salvatore “Torre” Rossi. Sweet with a kick of spice. Gentle at first, can become swiftly and irrevocably addictive to the heart.
A RECIPE FOR ROMANCE
One snobby food critic who doesn’t believe in love
One down-to-earth food blogger who does
Add a touch of suspicious brother
A heaping serving of best friend who’s been waiting for this to happen
Blend with secret identities, past hurts, and judgments.
Stir in equal portions of desperate longing, desire, fear, and snarky humor.
Set over open flame, step back, and wait for sparks to fly.
Serve as is for an explosive love story that will leave you with a full heart and a ridiculously happy smile at the end.
This is the third book in the Lost in New York series but can be read as a stand alone.
With a sinking heart, I watched Mike help Jasper to the waiting car, leaving me with one waiter, a busboy and, more importantly, one line cook. And me.
Shit.
I faced the crowd and took a deep breath. If I had to crawl on my knees, I wouldn’t fail Mike. Not when this was his time to shine.
“What’s wrong?” That deeply sensual voice sent a shiver through me.
Not tonight, Satan.
I stiffened and drew away. “Nothing.”
Skepticism filled Frisco’s eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Says the better one?” I folded my arms.
“I deserve that.”
“I know. That’s why I said it. Now if you’ll let me go, I have to figure out how to cook and serve the customers.”
Frisco unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them up, baring his olive-skinned muscular forearms. “I can help.”
The image of an elegant Frisco toting plates had me laughing even through my panicked state. “Nah, I can’t have you serve. I’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t be an ass. I…I can cook.”
“We don’t serve omelets.”
He rolled his eyes and popped me on the nose, then ran his finger gently down my jaw to rest under my chin. “I’m aware.”
Did he just boop me?
“Frisco.”
“Torre.” The momentary grin faded and he sobered. “I promise, it’ll be okay.” He squeezed my arm, and before I could take a breath, brushed his lips over mine. “Take me to the kitchen.”
The truth was, I had no choice. I had to put my trust and faith in a man I didn’t know.
“Follow me.”
Shit.
I faced the crowd and took a deep breath. If I had to crawl on my knees, I wouldn’t fail Mike. Not when this was his time to shine.
“What’s wrong?” That deeply sensual voice sent a shiver through me.
Not tonight, Satan.
I stiffened and drew away. “Nothing.”
Skepticism filled Frisco’s eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Says the better one?” I folded my arms.
“I deserve that.”
“I know. That’s why I said it. Now if you’ll let me go, I have to figure out how to cook and serve the customers.”
Frisco unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them up, baring his olive-skinned muscular forearms. “I can help.”
The image of an elegant Frisco toting plates had me laughing even through my panicked state. “Nah, I can’t have you serve. I’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t be an ass. I…I can cook.”
“We don’t serve omelets.”
He rolled his eyes and popped me on the nose, then ran his finger gently down my jaw to rest under my chin. “I’m aware.”
Did he just boop me?
“Frisco.”
“Torre.” The momentary grin faded and he sobered. “I promise, it’ll be okay.” He squeezed my arm, and before I could take a breath, brushed his lips over mine. “Take me to the kitchen.”
The truth was, I had no choice. I had to put my trust and faith in a man I didn’t know.
“Follow me.”
I have always been a romantic at heart. I believe that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner, My characters have to work for it, however. Like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love, but getting there is oh so fun and oh so sexy.
I live in New York City with my husband and two children. My day begins with a lot of caffeine and ends with a glass (or two of red wine). I practice law but daydream of a time when I can sit by a beach somewhere and write beautiful stories of men falling in love. Although there are bound to be a few bumps along the way, a Happily Ever After is always guaranteed.
EMAIL: felice@felicestevens.com
Never Say Never #3
Series
