Slow Burn (Curvy Cafe Book Club 2) Read online

  Slow Burn

  Curvy Cafe Book Club: Book 2

  Flora Madison

  Copyright © 2022 by Flora Madison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Geeky Girl Author Services

  Cover Design by Cormar Covers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  What to Read Next…

  Chapter One

  Lizzie

  There’s a stranger at breakfast. A tall, dark, and ridiculously muscular man with the brightest blue-green eyes I’ve ever seen. I rush to right the pan of freshly scrambled eggs, nearly dropping the pan the moment our eyes meet. He smiles at my stumble, revealing a deep dimple in his left cheek. My initial reaction is to smile back, even though I can barely get a coherent thought to form in my head. Unfortunately, a sudden, violent tickle in my nose causes me to sneeze directly into the pan.

  Mortified, I turn away from the stranger’s intense gaze and dump the eggs into the trash before grabbing a different pan. Thank God all of the farmhands have full plates. It’s my job to make sure the men are well fed before they head out into the fields for the day. There’d be a world war right here in the kitchen if they left on empty stomachs.

  “Hey now, everyone.” Jed Hannaker, owner of Hannaker farms, announces before clasping his rough hands together. “I need y’alls attention for a minute.” All of the farmhands flip around in their seats, giving their boss their full attention. “This is Jude Remington.”

  I peer over my shoulder as the man with the dimple gives a curt nod, his gaze flitting around the room. His flannel shirt hugs him like it was custom made. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were considering how broad his well-defined shoulders are. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing his bulging forearms.

  “Jude will be turning the barn into the event space the Mrs. has always wanted.” Mr. Hannaker continues. I clasp my hands together. Ever since I started working here, Jed’s wife, Cindy, has been dreaming of turning the barn into a venue. It’s about time she got her wish.

  “Nice to meet you all.” Jude’s husky voice fills the air, sending a shiver down my spine. I crack a dozen eggs into the bowl, attempting to whisk away the growing heat burning in my core. He’s probably married or at least seriously dating. I can’t imagine a man who looks like that and is obviously amazing with his hands, being single. No…that would be too easy.

  Cooking is my happy place. It’s so easy to forget all of your troubles and get lost in a good recipe. I’ve always needed physical activity to save my brain from going apeshit. As an avid over-thinker, it’s what saves me from myself. I used to cook with my grandmother when she would watch me after school each day until my mom got off work. Grandma taught me everything I know, and thank goodness. College wasn’t for me, but the kitchen always was.

  I’ve been working in and out of restaurants my whole life, but once I took the job at Hannaker Farms, I knew I’d found the right fit. From the homey environment to the gorgeous view of rolling fields out of the kitchen window, I couldn’t be happier with my work. Plus, the guys love what I cook. There’s nothing better than the silence of a room full of people enjoying a good meal.

  I’m so lost in remaking eggs that I don’t hear someone behind me. “Bless you.” Jude’s low voice startles me. His earthy, woodsy scent fills the space between us—not an easy feat when there’s food cooking on the stove.

  It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about my sneeze. “Thanks,” I say, embarrassed all over again. “I swear I don’t make it a habit of sneezing into the food.”

  “Well, I have a pretty strong immune system.” He grabs a plate and a set of silverware from the nearby station.

  “Fresh eggs will be ready in about three minutes.”

  He unabashedly eyes me up and down. “Three minutes is nothing. I can wait all day if I have to.”

  I open my mouth, hoping to conjure a witty response, but I find myself picturing him naked with his rock-hard length bobbing against his stomach instead. It happens so fast my fingers fumble the spatula, and it lands on the floor with a thunk.

  “Jesus,” I mutter, reaching down for it. Jude mirrors my motion and reaches for it at the same time. For a man that big, he sure does move fast. His rough hand brushes mine, sending a jolt of electricity straight through me. Our eyes meet, and I swear—as a woman who despises romantic movies and sentiments—my brain screams at me. Holy shit, it’s Mister Right.

  “I feel like you’ve cursed me, Jude Remington.” I snatch the spatula and stand. Jude follows suit, a grunt escaping his full, kissable lips.

  “Why’s that?” I look at him like he’s a fool. Can he not put two and two together? I’ve been clumsy as a drunk teenager on prom night since the minute he walked into my kitchen. When I don’t answer, he narrows his eyes at me and flashes that adorable dimple of his. So he’s hot and smart? Any man who can make a woman feel a million different things with a wink and a smile is nothing but trouble.

  The kind of trouble I’d like to get into.

  “The eggs are ready.” I grab a fresh utensil and stir them up. “Pass your plate.” I’m careful not to brush his hand when I take it from him. I give him a hearty helping and tell him the biscuits and bacon are at the end of the counter.

  Jude nods, and just when I think I’m rid of him. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Lizzie,” I say.

  “Well,” he leans in closer, and I see the stubble already forming on his freshly shaved face. I resist the urge to breathe him in so I can bring his scent with me through the rest of my day. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You too.” I avert my eyes, turning away so that he doesn’t see the redness flushing the apples of my cheeks. I turn toward the coffee maker, suddenly in need of some caffeine, but can’t resist sneaking a glance back in Jude’s direction in time to catch those sparkling eyes of his staring right back at me.

  Chapter Two

  Jude

  When I took the job at Hannaker Farms, I expected a few things. Long workdays, a lukewarm welcome from Jed, and an old barn in damn near disrepair. What I did not expect was to come face to face with the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I could gaze into her emerald eyes until wild horses dragged me away. Her fair skin glows against her raven waves, and damn those curves! So full and sexy, even her apron couldn’t hide them. It doesn’t hurt that she clearly knows her way around the kitchen. For a man like me, who can barely fix a frozen dinner without screwing it up, it’s the cherry on the sundae.

  I grab my tools from my truck, and head out toward the barn. If I didn’t need this job so badly I would’ve turned it down for my father’s sake alone. Him and Jed Hannaker weren’t exactly best friends. How could they be when they were both in love with the same woman? All that’s water under the bridge, as Jed is happily married to Mrs. Hannaker, but the two men just couldn’t seem to bury the hatchet.

  When Jed called about fixing the barn, I could barely believe it. Then the truth came out, that he was desperate, and my main competition had already agreed to another job a few towns away, and he had no choice but to ask me. I don’t give a good goddamn about silly rivalries, work is work. If I can get Jed Hannaker to give me a solid recommendation, I know it’ll send my constructio
n and repair business to the next level. I’ve been losing too many jobs to my competition because Jed’s the person people come to for recommendations. That’s why I’m taking the job myself, and not leaving it to any of my workers.

  My boots shuffle in the gravel as I stop before the old, red barn. It’s in even worse shape than I thought. The door nearly comes off the hinges as I carefully open it. They want to make this an event space? I understand it’ll bring in a lot more money, but the job’s a big one.

  I can do it, there’s no doubt, but I’ll have to work fast if I want to get this done before the cold weather arrives, which means no distractions. There’s only one that I can think of that would truly hold up my progress…that sexy little farmhouse honey back in the kitchen. Damn, I’d like to butter her biscuits, rip that apron off of her and get her wet and ready. My length stiffens against my Levi’s just thinking about it.

  Not a good start, Jude.

  I run a hand through my hair and shake off the rush of excitement. I’m not a damn teenager. I’m forty years old and should have more control than this, but something about Lizzie riles me up. I’ve never felt such a strong sensation for a woman before, and of course, the timing is shit. First thing’s first; I need to finish this barn, then I can concentrate on making that curvy goddess mine.

  Ready to tackle the task at hand, I grab my tools and begin tearing out the rotting wood on the far side of the barn. With every strip of weak wood I rip out, my determination grows. I’m going to make this barn look brand new. My arms ache from the pure force of my movements. I remove my flannel and work only in my white, sleeveless undershirt. I find my rhythm, getting lost in the work. Breathless, I finally take a step back, rubbing a hand across my damp forehead. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a handkerchief when a soft voice pulls my focus.

  “You missed lunch.” I spin around. Lizzie’s emerald eyes burn into me. She bites her bottom lip. Even though she’s still wearing her kitchen apron, she looks like a real-life temptress. Like she’s come out here to show me what happens to bad boys who miss lunch. When I don’t answer, caught up in my own daydream, she clears her throat. “I brought you a sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

  It wakes me from the spell. “That was nice of you. Thanks.” I wipe the sweat from my brow, replacing my handkerchief as I head toward her. Her scent fills the barn, sweet like cupcakes and sugar—good enough to eat. “I guess I got caught up.”

  “Lunch is always at eleven-thirty.” Her long lashes bat against her full cheeks. “Working as hard as you do,” Her gaze flickers to my bare arms and sweat-soaked undershirt. “You can’t forget to eat, Jude.”

  Jesus Christ, I know the statement is innocent enough, but it brings dirty thoughts to my mind. Lizzie, her soft, naked body spread out before me so I can feast on her.

  She hands me a brown paper bag and a mug of steaming coffee. Like this morning, our fingers brush up against each other. The purest sensation washes over me like I’ve never touched a woman before. I set my lunch down on a nearby bench.

  “How’s it going out here?” Lizzie perches on a stack of hay bales. “Looks like a big job.”

  “That it is.” I’m suddenly ravenous, ripping the bag open. “Turkey Club? How did you know it was my favorite?”

  “I went behind your back and took a poll. I asked everyone who knows you.” She crosses one ankle in front of the other. “Is that weird?” I can’t help but let out a little laugh.

  “Yep, but I’ll let it slide. If you start camping out in front of my house though…”

  Lizzie’s smile lights up the room. “What’s your address again?”

  “Cute,” I say and take a bite of my sandwich. It’s the perfect balance of ingredients. “Damn, this is good.” I cover my mouth with the back of my hand when I speak. Lizzie tilts her head to the side, showing off the delicate curve of her neck.

  She’s the kind of woman I could marry. Someone to come home to every night after a long day of work. But I’d never be too tired to please my Lizzie. She’d be my main priority, making her feel loved, beautiful. The mother of my children…

  Tires screech in my head. This is exactly what I’m not supposed to be doing.

  I set down my sandwich and brush my hands against my jeans, not meeting her eyes. “I’d better get back to work.” My tone is gruff, letting her know that now isn’t the time. As much as I hate doing it, this is what has to happen.

  “Oh, okay.”

  My hammer sinks into the wood as I continue ripping out the corner of the barn. In my periphery, Lizzie makes her way out of the barn. It takes all of my energy not to watch her go.

  Chapter Three

  Lizzie

  “I don’t know; it’s all just…strange.” I shove the last bit of red velvet cupcake with cream cheese icing into my mouth. We’ve been at book club for over two hours, and I’m just now able to talk about the new guy at work.

  “What’s so strange about it?” Audrey, the owner of Curvy Cafe, tosses her red braid over her shoulder. “He’s a hot carpenter. You’re a hot kitchen witch. You’re going to make babies together.”

  “Are you not listening to anything I just told you?” My voice raises. “He’s clearly not interested in me. He was warm and flirty one minute and cold,” I snap my fingers. “Just like that.”

  “But he was initially flirty, right?” Willow asks in her soft, shy voice. “That’s a good sign.”

  “I thought it was, too.” I rack my brain, wondering what the hell I could’ve done that would’ve turned Jude off so quickly. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m not model thin, and work in a farmhouse kitchen? It’s not exactly the most enticing description on paper.

  “I know what you’re doing, missy, and I’m going to politely ask you to stop before I shove my Doc Marten straight up your ass.” Audrey flings her finger in my face causing me to flinch. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

  “She’s right, Lizzie.” Charlotte sets her wine glass down on the coffee table. “It’s a natural reaction for us women to think it’s us, but it sounds like maybe something else is going on.”

  “You think?” I try to keep my voice from sounding too desperate. “Ugh.” I let out a long sigh, resting my head in my hands. “I’m ridiculous. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? It’s been two weeks and after the first day, we’ve barely spoken to each other. He won’t even look me in the eye.”

  “Girl, it isn’t you. I’m telling you.” Audrey throws her arms in the air.

  I shake my head in response. “I don’t know.”

  “And you won’t know.” Willow says, inching closer to me. “Unless you press harder and get to the bottom of things.” She lets out a long sigh, squaring her shoulders in my direction. “What do we always talk about in book club?”

  “How to give a blowjob without choking?” I furrow my brow.

  “Besides that.” Willow rolls her eyes.

  Charlotte’s eyes light up. “How books are better if the main character takes some sort of action instead of just letting all the shit happen to her.”

  Willow snaps her finger in Charlotte’s direction. “Bingo! Lizzie, you just have to find out what the hell Mr. Fix-it’s problem is.”

  “What if the problem is me?” I nearly audibly gulp. Even though my logical brain knows I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s hard for me to fully understand why the hell he’d be so flirty with me one minute and then act like I don’t exist the next.

  “Something tells me it’s not.” Audrey sings. “He’s single, right?”

  “According to Mrs. Hannaker, he is.”

  “So we can eliminate that possibility. What else do you know about him?”

  “Not much.” I take a sip of wine, recalling what Mrs. Hannaker dished to me while I baked a lunch quiche the other day. “Their families have known each other for years. He’s never been married. No kids. Hard worker.”

  “Sounds like a catch.” Charlotte wiggles her eyebrows.

  “No shit
!” I slap my thigh. “I just wish I knew if he were interested in me.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Audrey shrugs, throwing back the rest of her wine.

  “I’m not going to straight up ask him, Aud.”

  “Oh Lord, sis. That’s hardly what I’m saying.” She licks her purple lips. “Actions speak louder than words.”

  I roll my eyes. “How cliché.”

  “Suit yourself, but things are deemed cliché for a reason.”

  I’m driving home after book club, my brain swirling in a million different directions. Am I really supposed to show Jude that I have feelings for him when he’s pretending I don’t even exist? Maybe it’s on purpose, but I miss the turn that takes me home. Instead, I find myself driving out toward Hannaker Farms. In the vast darkness of night, with all the stars twinkling in the sky, I’ll be able to think better than if I head straight to my subdivision.

  I pull down the back drive, prepared to park in the little landing near the creek, when I spot work lights on in the barn. “Holy shit,” I mutter to myself as I cut the headlights and pull closer. I roll down the window a crack, just enough to listen for any noises. Classic rock echoes through the air, something about night moves. The song reminds me of my dad, driving down country roads in his old pickup truck on our weekends together.

  The buzz of power tools can be heard over the song. If there were any doubts of Jude being the one in the barn, they diminish instantly. I pull up just enough to see inside and my heart stops in my chest at the sight of a very shirtless Jude bent over a table saw. The muscles in his arms flex as he pushes the wood against the blade. His shoulder blades tense as he works, making them appear as smooth as angel’s wings.