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Contents ( 54)
  1. Recipe for Love
  2. ANNE MALCOM
  3. Contents
  4. Foreword
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. ROWAN
  9. NORA
  10. Chapter Four
  11. ROWAN
  12. Chapter Five
  13. NORA
  14. Chapter Six
  15. Chapter Seven
  16. Chapter Eight
  17. Chapter Nine
  18. ROWAN
  19. NORA
  20. Chapter Ten
  21. Chapter Eleven
  22. Chapter Twelve
  23. Chapter Thirteen
  24. Chapter Fourteen
  25. Chapter Fifteen
  26. Chapter Sixteen
  27. Chapter Seventeen
  28. ROWAN
  29. NORA
  30. Chapter Eighteen
  31. Chapter Nineteen
  32. Chapter Twenty
  33. Chapter Twenty-One
  34. RECIPE: PISTACHIO PINWHEELS
  35. ROWAN
  36. NORA
  37. Chapter Twenty-Two
  38. Chapter Twenty-Three
  39. ROWAN
  40. Epilogue
  41. FOUR MONTHS LATER
  42. NORA
  43. Recipes
  44. Acknowledgments
  45. About the Author
  46. Also by Anne Malcom
  47. THE SONS OF TEMPLAR
  48. THE SONS OF TEMPLAR - NEW MEXICO
  49. UNQUIET MIND
  50. GREENSTONE SECURITY
  51. THE VEIN CHRONICLES
  52. RETIRED SINNERS
  53. THE KLUTCH DUET
  54. STANDALONES

Great coffee.

I cupped the mug he gave me, and we drank in silence until he went upstairs to finish getting dressed, and I got my things together so I was ready to leave.

I was used to the mornings being mine. Quiet. Feeling like I was the only person in the world. I’d liked it like that. It was one of the many excuses I’d used to make sure Nathan didn’t stay over. Which wasn’t a stretch anyway since he was a ‘light sleeper’ and would always complain about me waking him up too early.

On the rare occasions when he did stay over, my mornings didn’t feel sacred. I was aware of him, up there, sleeping, having to tiptoe around my own house.

It was not like that now. I was hyper-aware of Rowan’s—and Maggie’s—presence in the house. But it was not a bad thing. It made the place feel full, complete.

Especially when I got to see Rowan descending my stairs, dressed in the clothes from last night, putting on his cap, backward.

“Kip’s picking me up from the bakery,” Rowan said as I did my best not to drool all over him.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for him to pick you up from here? You can go back to sleep. I assume you get up early, but not this early, and you have a long day of manual labor ahead. You need the rest.”

Rowan’s eyes twinkled. “Appreciate the concern, baby, but you’re up, I’m up. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m going back to sleep in that bed without you in it.”

My chest bloomed with warmth at that statement. Like he was planning on sleeping in my bed with me again.

Soon, I hoped, even though that bowled through all the sensible rules I had about dating.

No sex until the fourth date.

No sleepovers two nights in a row until we’d been dating for longer than two months.

That kind of thing.

I’d been steadfast about those rules, clinging to them for a variety of reasons, all of which stemmed from my childhood.

The rules existed to protect me. Although none of the men I’d dated could really do real damage. Because of the rules, because I held them at arm’s length, because I picked men I could never truly fall in love with, I never really got hurt.

If there was ever a time to cling to those rules, it was now. If there was a man who could truly hurt me, it was this man in front of me.

“You don’t start work for hours yet,” I argued. “I’ll drop you off at home first.” I didn’t want Rowan and Maggie having to hang around at the bakery for hours with nothing to do. I also was incredibly curious to see where Rowan lived.

“No,” Rowan argued back. “You’re not gonna be alone in that bakery on a street that’s not gonna wake up for another few hours.”

I frowned at him. “I’m there every morning on my own.”