Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection Read online

  A Recipe for Love

  Copyright © 2019 K.C. LYNN

  Published by K.C. Lynn

  Cover Art by: Kari March

  Editing: Wild Rose Editing

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Sweet Temptation

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Sweet Love

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Sneak Peek of Sweet Haven

  Books by K.C. Lynn

  Connect with K.C. Lynn

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To all my Sawyer and Grace fans out there, this box set is for you. May you always smell like cupcakes and experience a love that runs as deep as theirs.

  Sweet Temptation

  Copyright © 2014 K.C. LYNN

  Published by K.C. Lynn

  Second Edition

  Cover Art by: Cover to Cover Designs

  Editing: Wild Rose Editing

  Formatting: BB eBooks

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

  Dedicated to my mom because Sawyer is her favorite. Thanks for always being my biggest supporter. Sawyer and Grace are for you.

  Grace

  The afternoon heat is stifling as I jog home, my backpack and cheer bag swinging wildly in my haste. Guilt plagues me for being late, knowing it’s going to run Mama and me behind on our drive out of town.

  My phone dings with a text, the muffled chime barely penetrating my heavy breathing. Slowing down, I reach into the side of my backpack and pull it out to see it’s from Adam.

  Adam: Just wanted to say good luck and have a good weekend. I’ll miss you. Bring me back any leftover pie. Love you, babe. :)

  My stomach does a little flip at the sweet message. A reaction I’m used to when it comes to him. We’ve been dating for almost a year, and lately he’s been pushing to take our relationship to the next level. I appreciate how patient he’s been, considerin’ he isn’t a virgin. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I have decided, when I get back from the fair with Mama, I’m going to tell him I’m ready.

  I send him a quick reply, letting him know I’ll miss him too and I’ll call as soon as we get home on Sunday. Hopefully, I’ll come back $20,000 richer. The prize money from the bakin’ contest will help Mama and I to start our dream; a dream we have been talking about for as long as I can remember.

  Once my house comes into view, I pick up speed and run up my front steps. By the time I open the door I’m out of breath and have an ache in my side.

  “Hey, Mama, sorry I’m late. Coach made us stay late at practice, but I’ll be quick. Just let me change and we can start loadin’ the car.”

  I toss my backpack and cheer bag off to the side then head into the kitchen to see the pies are stacked and ready, but there’s no sign of her.

  “Mama?”

  A loud thump sounds above me, pulling my attention up to the ceiling. The eerie silence sends a skitter of unease down my spine. Slowly, I start toward the stairs, my approach quiet and cautious.

  “Mama?” I call again, starting up the carpeted steps. “Are you up here?”

  The higher I climb, the more I’m plagued with the feeling that something is very wrong. When I finally make it to the top, I find her bedroom door slightly ajar. I continue forward even though every instinct I possess is screaming at me to run. With my heart in my throat, I push open the door and find her room in disarray.

  What on earth?

  The closet door swings open with a bang, my mother barreling out onto the floor, naked and bleeding. A man follows out after her, holding a knife.

  Fear paralyzes me, imprisoning me where I stand.

  “Grace, run!” Her frantic scream pierces the air, snapping me back into myself.

  I hesitate for only a second, not wanting to leave her but know I need to get help. Turning, I start for my room, my feet pounding the carpet.

  “Hurry up and grab that bitch.”

  Someone grabs a fistful o
f my hair and yanks me off my feet. I land on my back painfully, the hard impact knocking the air from my lungs.

  A man appears above me, his greasy, jet-black hair hanging into his dark malicious eyes—eyes that lack any emotion. “You’re just as pretty as your mama. I think I’ll fuck you, too.”

  My heart plummets straight to my stomach, the words he spews too vile to fathom.

  “Leave her alone! Please don’t hurt her.” My mom’s sobbing plea breaks my heart further.

  I have to get us out of here; I have to get to the phone.

  A strangled noise works its way up my throat as I’m pulled to my feet by my hair. The throbbing sting is dull compared to the pain that has taken up residency in my chest. Before I have time to anticipate what he’s about to do, his disgusting mouth lands on mine.

  I cry out against the brutal force and try to push him away but he doesn’t budge. He’s too strong. Instinct kicks in and I bring my knee up, nailing him between the legs.

  “Fuck!”

  The moment his grip loosens, I shove myself away and dash into my room, slamming the door behind me. I click the lock in place then push everything off my dresser, tipping it over to barricade myself in.

  Reaching for the bedside phone, I quickly dial 9-1-1, my fingers trembling violently.

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” Just as the operator answers, a forceful pounding starts against my door, almost throwing it off its hinges.

  I dash into my closet, keeping the phone against my ear. “This is Grace Morgan, I live at 917 Lakeland Point. Two men have broken into my home, and they are hurtin’ my mother.”

  My mother’s screams penetrate the chaos roaring in my ears, and I hear her begging for her life.

  “Please, you have to hurry!” I sob. “They’re hurtin’ her real bad.”

  “It’s all right, honey. The police are on their way. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “How old are you, Grace?”

  “Seventeen.”

  The relentless pounding on my door suddenly comes to a stop and so does my mother’s fearful pleas.

  I listen carefully, afraid to even breathe. A moment later a loud bang vibrates my walls and I hear wood splinter.

  “Oh god! He’s in my room.”

  My closet door swings open, revealing the furious man I escaped only moments ago.

  A scream of terror shoves from my throat as he yanks the phone from me and throws it. I crawl under his arm as it smashes against the wall and push to my feet, attempting to escape his wrath once more, but I’m not fast enough.

  His large body tackles me from behind, sending me to face-plant into the hardwood floor next to my bed. My lip splits open, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

  “You’re not goin’ anywhere, bitch.” He pummels my back, every painful blow he delivers weakening me further. I fight against him only to be flipped to my back and struck across the face.

  Pain explodes through my head and black spots dance in my vision. Groaning, I fight to remain conscious.

  His rough hands grab the V-neck of my shirt and tears it down the middle, exposing my bra. Next, he fumbles with my spandex cheer shorts, trying to pull them down.

  “No!” I buck against him, fighting with all the strength I have left.

  “Stay still, bitch; this will be over quickly.”

  I don’t submit to his command and it earns me another blow to the face.

  My head snaps to the left and through watery eyes I spot my pink baseball bat from Little League. Reaching out, I grab it, curling my fingers around the rubber grip. I don’t waste another second and swing hard, making solid contact with his head.

  Grunting, he falls to the side.

  I climb to my feet and swing again, harder this time, bringing the steel against his back. I continue to hit him, unable to stop, fear and anger fueling every violent blow.

  Footsteps thunder down the hall, barely breaking through the dark rage that’s consumed me. “Emilio, man, we need to get the hell out of here. Sirens are coming our way.”

  The guy who was in the closet with my mother comes to a hard stop just inside of my room, a bloody knife gripped in his hand. He takes in his friend who struggles to stand from my assault, his furious eyes snapping to me.

  “You fuckin’ bitch.” He charges at me, fists swinging.

  I raise the bat but miss his head by an inch. Before I can attempt again, he strikes out, his fist connecting with my temple. A tattoo on the inside of his wrist snags my attention before the force of his blow sends me into the wall.

  He hauls his friend to his feet, draping an arm around his neck. “Come on, man, pull it together. We have to go.”

  I watch as they stumble out of my room and wait until I’m certain they are gone before managing to climb to my feet. My beaten body screams in protest as I go in search of my mother. I call out for her, but my voice sounds as weak as I feel.

  Once inside her room, I falter at the sight of her lying naked in a pool of her own blood. Devastation seizes my chest, shredding it into a million pieces.

  “Mama!” Running to her side, I slip in all the crimson liquid surrounding her, landing on my knees. I don’t let it deter me and reach for her, cradling her lifeless body to my chest. “It’s okay, Mama, just hang on, help is on the way,” I cry, my sobs as broken as my heart.

  My tears fall into her beautiful golden hair as I plead for her to hang on. No matter how much I reassure her that everything will be okay, I know it isn’t. I know she’s dead but my shattered heart refuses to believe it.

  “I’m so sorry I was late. So sorry.” Leaning down, I kiss her bloodstained forehead and bury my face into her hair.

  Seconds later, chaos erupts around me.

  At seventeen years old I had managed to live through the worst day of my life. Instead of finding peace and safety during my heartbreak I was sent to live with him—a man who is more evil than the devil himself.

  Grace

  Three Years Later

  “Order up!”

  My tired feet ache as I rush over to grab the two hot plates filled with burgers and fries. It’s only lunch and already exhaustion is weighin’ me down. The twelve-hour shift I worked yesterday doesn’t help.

  “How are you doing out there, darlin’?” My boss, Mac, asks as he flips burgers over the flaming grill.

  I grace him with my best smile. “You know me. I’m always great.”

  “I do know you, and if you weren’t okay you still wouldn’t tell me. I’m scared one day I’m going to look out there”—he points his massive flipper to the diner behind me—“and find you passed out, sleeping on my damn floor.”

  “Now, Mac, I barely get any sleep in my own bed, there’s no way your floor is gonna cut it for me.”

  The tease earns me a grunt and shake of his head.

  I take that as my cue and walk away to deliver the waiting couple their meals. I appreciate his concern but he needs the help and I need the money. It’s a win-win situation for us both.

  This might not be my dream job, but I’m thankful for it and even more thankful for Mac. The surly tough guy with dark hair, brown eyes, and a bunch of tattoos might look scary but he’s nothin’ more than a giant teddy bear. I’m grateful for everything he has done for me. Without him, I’d have nothing.

  After delivering the plates of food, I attend to a few other tables and hear the bell jingle on the door, announcing more customers. In my peripheral vision, I see two men walk in and take a seat in the back. My heart skips a beat and awareness rolls through every nerve ending of my body. I already know who it is without looking over my shoulder.

  Sawyer Evans.

  Why does the arrogant, sexy son of a gun have to come in here to eat all the time? Why can’t he go somewhere else?

  Frustrated at myself for caring, I pull it together, and try not to look directly at him as I head for their table; otherwise, I’ll make a fool out of myself. Instead, I focu
s on Cade. He’s attractive too but he’s also pretty darn scary. And he doesn’t make my heart pound like it wants to fly out of my chest the way Sawyer does.

  Stupid Sawyer!

  “Hi, y’all,” I greet quietly, reaching for my pad of paper. Not that I need it, but it will help distract me from making goo-goo eyes at Mr. Sexy.

  “Hey, Grace,” Cade replies, with his usual nod.

  “Well, hiya there, Grace. Fancy seeing you here again, I didn’t know you worked today.” The deep, smooth baritone of Sawyer’s voice sends a delicious shiver to dance along my skin.

  Get a hold of yourself, Grace.

  I let out a dramatic sigh. “I work pretty much every day, which you know, since you’re in here every day.”

  “I don’t come every day.”

  Scoffing, I pull my gaze up from the floor to his face and immediately regret it when I connect with the sexiest pair of green eyes I have ever seen.

  Crap!

  Heat creeps up my neck, turning my face the color of a tomato. My eyes narrow as I attempt to hide the effect he has on me. “Yes, you do.”

  His smug grin turns into a beautiful smile; one that girls drop their panties for in a heartbeat. “Nope, just on the days you’re working, Cupcake.”

  My hands clench at the nickname he gave me a few weeks ago at Jaxson and Julia’s weddin’. After watching the new bride and groom feed each other one of the beautiful cupcakes I had made, Sawyer yelled out, “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it! You’re supposed to do it like this.” He then grabbed his cupcake, coated my nose and mouth with the pink frosting, and proceeded to try to lick it off.

  I, of course, dodged his attempt before he could make contact and thank god for that. Lord only knows what would have happened if I let him get those beautiful lips anywhere near mine. I probably would have given into temptation and embarrassingly mauled the man in front of everyone.

  As the traitorous thought emerges, my eyes latch onto those perfect lips.

  Gah! Snap out of it, Grace.

  Yanking my gaze away, I direct my attention over to Cade. “What can I get for ya, Cade?”

  Sawyer chuckles at my very apparent brush off. Cade’s lips twitch, something that’s rare to see. Usually he looks about ready to kill someone. “I’ll get the special with mashed potatoes and a Coke.”