Susan Mallery's Fool's Gold Cookbook: A Love Story Told Through 150 Recipes (Fool's Gold #12.1)

Ana Raquel started toward the house, only to stop suddenly. The local rumor mill was quite efficient and she heard most of what was going on. But knowing that Greg wasn’t married was different from knowing if he were dating someone. Not that she was interested for herself, it was just that if he had a girlfriend, the cookbook project could be even more complicated. There would be long evenings and weekends perfecting recipes. Arguments about style and placement. She didn’t want some nonfoodie offering her opinion because she was being protective of her boyfriend.

In fact, if Greg were seeing someone, there was simply no way this project could work, she thought as she marched around the house and up the front steps. She would tell him that and he could back out. Then she would do it all herself, which would be just fine. Because she wasn’t interested in working with a guy who dated a girl like that. Someone so possessive and willing to stick her nose in where it didn’t belong.

The front door opened and the man in question smiled at her.

“Hey,” he said. “Right on time. Come on in.”

She did as he requested, trying not to let him know that her tummy suddenly felt weird and she couldn’t say why. There were flutterings and odd zings of electricity. Had she eaten some bad fish?

“Hi.” She stepped past him and shrugged out of her coat. “Great place. So is it all yours? What about a roommate? A girlfriend? Because working with you is one thing, but working with a cast of thousands isn’t possible.”

His dark gaze settled on her face. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh. Are you sure? Because you always did. Constantly. It was a steady stream of women.”

That half smile appeared. “I’ve grown up since then.”

An intriguing statement that told her exactly nothing, she thought in frustration. Which was just so like him.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction of asking or acting as if she cared, she dropped her coat and bag on the bench in the foyer and walked into the small house.

The view from the living room stretched all the way to the end of the valley, but what really caught her attention was the huge kitchen. She stumbled toward it, drawn by deep sinks, plenty of counter space and a six-burner stove. There were two ovens, a warming drawer and a knife collection that nearly had her drooling with envy.

“Wow,” she said, turning in a slow circle. “I mean wow.”

There were racks and lots of cabinets and a double pantry. To the left, one section of countertop was done in marble. The cool, smooth surface was perfect for rolling out dough and making cookies. Through the glass door of the top oven, she saw a rotisserie. While she loved her little trailer kitchen, comparing this to that was like comparing truffle oil to cooking spray.

Greg leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space. “I did some remodeling before I moved in. I still have to get to the bathroom.”

“Who cares about a bathroom?” she told him. “Or furniture. For a kitchen like this, I would be willing to sit on crates and sleep on the floor.”

“No need for that. I have a bed.”

A comment that caused the fluttering inside to increase for a second before she decided to ignore the sensation.

He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the dining alcove. She saw that he’d placed a couple of folders and an open bottle of wine on the butcher block table.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out a chair.

“Sure.”

She took the seat he offered, then nodded when he held up the wine bottle. Maybe sipping the excellent cabernet would settle her nerves. It wasn’t that she was nervous, she told herself. This was a new situation—that was all. She was being forced to share her dream. That would be uncomfortable for anyone. Her fluttery tummy had nothing to do with being around Greg.

He sat across from her and picked up his glass of wine. “To the Fool’s Gold Cookbook,” he said, touching his glass to hers.

Before she could respond, he chuckled.

“What?” she asked.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this. After all these years.” He shrugged. “I still remember the first time I saw you. We’d just moved to town. I was seven and I didn’t know anyone. My mom told me I should sign up for the second-grade play as a way to make new friends. I walked into tryouts and there you were. All blond curls and big eyes.”

He sipped his wine. “I went home and told my mother I’d fallen in love.”

Ana Raquel felt herself blink. “With me?”

“Yup. When I was picked to be Prince Charming, I knew it was meant to be.” He smiled again. “Of course, I was only seven.”

Move Directly to Chapter 5

summer

Warm Weather Meals

Grilled Cheese, Pear and Prosciutto Sandwiches

End-of-Summer Tomato Tart

Summer Garden Wheatberry Salad

Memorial Day Chicken Salad

Curried Chicken Salad

Caramelized Onion, White Bean and Wilted Arugula Crostini

Ten-Minute Crisp Chopped Salad

Heidi’s Arugula, Corn and Tomato Salad with Goat Cheese

Caprese Pasta Salad with Balsamic Chicken

Green Pasta Pesto with Zucchini Carpaccio

Buttery Tilapia with Dijon Dill Green Beans

Grilled Loin Lamb Chops with Cool Cucumber Sauce

Garlicky Grilled Steaks

Flank Steak and Balsamic Spinach Salad

Marinated Green and White Bean Salad with Garlic Shrimp

Crunchy Pork Chops with Beet and Carrot Slaw

Pan-Seared Turkey Cutlets with Creamed Corn and Bacon

SUMMER