Authors: The Sextet
forgotten to turn off the lights when they left.
“Miss McCoskey, your invitation.”
She jumped at the sudden voice.
Spencer stood before her, dressed once again in his chef’s whites,
his hand extended. He held a folded piece of paper.
Grasping the “invitation,” she unfolded it and read.
Wren McCoskey, you are cordially invited to dine on the varied
offerings of Chefs Spencer Andrews and Dane Fletcher. The menu is
a coordinated effort, made in attempt to win the palate and heart of
the woman they adore. They seek forgiveness and hope for a second
chance.
These two were either the biggest bull-shitters on the planet
or...or...
“Will you join us, Wren?” Spencer sounded sincere, but could she
believe him?
She nodded. Well, she
was
hungry, and the heavenly smells lured
her slutty taste buds.
Spencer gestured toward the dimly lit tasting center. The long
rectangular table was set for three, complete with a linen tablecloth
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and flowers. Not just flowers. Morning glories tucked into and around
a small branch, a tiny bird perched on one twig. A wren. Three white
tapers formed a triangle around the centerpiece, their flames dancing
with each movement of the air.
She bit her lip to ease the cramp in her stomach. They’d planned a
wonderfully romantic dinner for three. What had the invitation said?
Forgiveness. A second chance
. Thinking back to this afternoon, she cringed at her behavior. Spencer and Dane had concentrated their
efforts on her pleasure, not their own. She’d been tired and bitchy and
impatient. They were willing to admit a mistake, but was she?
Holding a chair for her, Spencer helped her sit. “Dinner is served.
Enjoy.”
Dane appeared with a bottle of her favorite red, pouring a glass of
wine for each of them as Spencer spread a napkin over her lap. “We’ll
begin with Sesame Wafers with Pesto and Sliced Cucumbers with
Hummus.”
Spencer held a serving tray of appetizers while his coconspirator
picked up a morsel topped with a bright orange curl. He held it to her
lips.
Mmm. The yummy pesto he’d spoon-fed her. The crisp crunch of
cracker blended with the nutty-flavored concoction and the fresh taste
of carrot. Dane tucked the rest of the hors d’oeuvre into his mouth,
triggering a twinge between her thighs. She’d always thought of
sharing food as sensual, but this dinner challenged her imagination.
“Ready for more?” Spencer held a slice of cucumber between his
thumb and forefinger.
Parting her lips, she waited for him to give her a bite. Hummus
was one of her favorite snacks. A triangle of red pepper rested atop
the irresistible treat. He bit into it, lifting the remaining half to her mouth while he chewed his part.
Food as foreplay?
Even better than the blatant flirting this afternoon.
He set the platter on the table in front of her. “Do you think the
bride will approve?”
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Who cared whether Desiree approved? “They were both
delicious.”
Did she dare ask who made which menu items? The invitation had
said the menu was a coordinated effort. Perhaps she shouldn’t try to
compare the chefs.
“Next, we have Spinach and Summer Squash Blossom Salad with
Warm Strawberry Vinaigrette.” Setting a basket of rolls on the table
with one hand, he placed the salad plate between her utensils. “And
Wedding Knots for the bread course.”
She almost expected one of them to stab a forkful of salad and
feed her. Instead, they waited and watched. Picking up the outermost
fork, she poked a pretty orange flower and a leaf of baby spinach. A
bead of dressing dripped onto the plate. Sweet yet sour tang hung in
the air, making her mouth water.
Mmm
. Another culinary achievement. Such an amazing blend of
flavors, and the warm dressing complemented the cool salad. Desiree
and her vegetarian taste buds were going to rejoice.
Lifting her napkin, Spencer dabbed at her lips, then returned it to
her lap. He picked up her wineglass. “Drink?”
She didn’t need alcohol. She was drunk on the spectacular dishes
they’d prepared and their treating her like a queen. But it was her
favorite, and she didn’t want to disappoint them. “Thank you.”
“Would you like another bite, or should we move on?” Dane
stood to her left, a patient look on his handsome face.
Her two hot chefs wanted to please her, and after she’d been so
whiny. “Look, guys, I’m really sor—”
Spencer pressed his finger to her lips. “Enjoy the meal we made
for you. We’ll talk about other things after dinner.”
What would he do if she kissed his finger? The action seemed
natural, felt right in her heart. She couldn’t
not
do it. Looking up at him, she pursed her lips against his warm skin.
He smiled, lifting his finger to his mouth. “Try the rolls while
Dane brings the soup.”
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Returning his smile, she reached for a knot. She plucked off a
piece. The action reminded her of their earlier teasing. A shiver
scurried up her spine. Better taste the bread before she got impatient
again. “Mmm. Sweet graham flour yeast rolls?”
“Yes.” Dane set a bowl next to the salad plate. “Leek and Carrot
Bisque.”
The fall colors they’d incorporated in the foods surprised her. Men
were usually obtuse about wedding themes. Desiree couldn’t have
chosen a more suitable pair of chefs if she’d interviewed them herself.
“It smells great.” Wisps of steam carried a particular green sort of
scent and a slight spiciness to her nose. Tasting a spoonful, she let the flavors settle on her taste buds. “Dill? And nutmeg? Interesting
combination.”
“So you like it?” This time Dane held the wineglass out to her
while Spencer headed to the kitchen.
“You wouldn’t try to serve something awful to me, would you?”
She grinned at him, sure nothing left his kitchen unless it passed his
personal taste test.
His thumb traced her jaw, sending another jolt of response
southward. “Never. And now our entrees. Chicken Breast with Wild
Rice Stuffing in a White Wine Portabella Reduction. For the
vegetarian dish, Spaghetti Squash with White Bean Marsala Sauce
and Portabellas.”
The wonderful aromas that had cast a spell when she opened the
door to her lab. Which to try first? The tomato-based sauce laced with
basil and oregano or the pinwheeled chicken with parsley and a hint
of lemon? Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Argh, she couldn’t
decide. “Spencer, feed me a bite of yours. I promise not to look.”
His laugh tickled her tummy. “If you know I’m feeding you,
you’ll know which dish I made. Blindfold.”
A hand brushed her thigh as the linen napkin slipped off her lap.
More shivers. The cloth rubbed against her cheek. One of them tied
the napkin over her eyes. Did they plan to leave it on for other more
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intimate things? The thought excited her, although she wanted to see
their beautiful bodies when they finally shared them with her.
“Open.” The whisper sent warm breath over the side of her neck.
She opened her mouth. The chicken with parsley and lemon and
white pepper. The texture of wild rice and tender chicken. And the
musky flavor of portabella mushrooms infused with a slightly dry
white wine. “Mmm. This is good, really good. Really, really good. I
want another bite.”
Lips brushed her ear. “Open.”
A tingle rippled from her ear to her nipples to her damp clit. Her
hungry body parts waged a war with her horny body parts. The sooner
she ate, the sooner they moved on to dessert. She opened her mouth.
Fresh Roma tomatoes, cannellini, and the hearty essence of the
Marsala. Sweet strands of moist spaghetti squash. More mushrooms.
And a hint of garlic, not strong or overpowering.
“The vegetarians at this wedding reception will be in heaven.
Desiree is going to give you a huge bonus. And I want more of
everything. Later. When we’re done with
other things
.”
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Chapter 4
Other things. Spencer had a feeling her idea of other things didn’t
match Dane’s and his. He loosened the blindfold, returning it to her
lap. “Eat what you want now while everything is still warm.”
Dane took the chair to the left of Wren.
Spencer sat to her right. Waiting for her to begin eating, he slowly
breathed in to calm his hammering pulse. “Dane and I would like to
talk to you before we move on to those other things.”
“Okay, talk.” She cut off a piece of chicken with her knife, lifting
the fork to her mouth.
“We’ve decided to partner for the catering job. The menu benefits
from it, neither of us is overwhelmed by the preparation and planning,
and we can test our ability to work together. After the wedding
reception is over, we’ll either go into business together, or not.”
Sending a silent signal to Dane to finish their pronouncement, he
clasped his hands and laid them on the edge of the table. This second
part far outweighed the first in importance, and he couldn’t help but
worry about Wren’s response.
“Spence and I also discussed what we want from this encounter.
Both of us are interested in a relationship with you. If you choose to
continue to see one of us, the other will accept your decision without
argument. The same goes if you don’t want to date either of us. No
pressure. Tonight we enjoy our experience together.” Dane mirrored
Spencer’s position. No direct mention of opting for both of them.
They’d agreed that scenario had to be her idea.
Wren laid the fork aside and finished chewing a bite of spaghetti
squash. She touched the napkin to her lips, then took a swallow of
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wine. “As I tried to say, I’m sorry. My only excuse for being a bitch is
I was tired. Desiree called me at seven-thirty this morning while I was
waiting to board my flight home from St. Louis. I hate to fly.”
Spencer wanted to kiss that lovely pout off her face. “And we’re
sorry. You know your body. When you said ‘now,’ we should’ve
accommodated you.”
“Men can be stupid about women sometimes.” Dane grinned.
Actually, most of the time.
With another forkful of salad halfway to her mouth, she paused.
“So we forget the misfire this afternoon and start over?”
“Not forget—learn from it.” He and Dane had also taken time to
examine their feelings for her more closely. Pushing to his feet, he
went to the kitchen to retrieve their plates. “Let’s enjoy the meal
together. Then we can concentrate on you.”
He set a dish in front of Dane and the other at his own place.
They’d taste-tested every finished product except the entrees. Now
each had a portion of both. The final decision was Wren’s, of course,
but he didn’t see how she could refuse to hire them for the catering
job. He waited for his future business partner to take a bite.
Dane tasted the stuffed chicken, slowly chewing. His eyebrows
drew together, then rose. He grinned, allowing Spence’s tense
shoulders to relax. “Not bad. Actually, pretty damn good. Did you use
cardamom in the marinade?”
Since Dane knew better than to expect a chef to reveal his
ingredients, Spencer ignored the probing question and sampled his
friend’s entree. “Excellent color and texture combination. And it isn’t
loaded with cream, eggs, or cheese like most vegetarian dishes. So
simple, but full of flavor.”
Across the table, Dane nodded at him and raised his wineglass.
“You do realize I now know who made which dish, don’t you?”
Wren tsked and raised her wineglass to meet his. “Chefs and their
egos.”
Ah, hell. They hadn’t planned to tell her. Too late to censor their
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comments now. Spencer lifted his glass. “To good food, partnerships,
and smart women.”
Clink. Clink. Clink.
“Amen and cheers.” Dane took a healthy swallow.
“Bottoms up.” Draining her glass, Wren leaned back in the chair.
She’d eaten more of all the courses, and evidently had her fill. “I’m
going to recommend Desiree hire you as a team for her wedding
reception. The two of you have a great menu to offer, and I want to
thank you for not bailing on me. You’ve demonstrated more
professionalism than I had any right to expect.”
“Our personal relationship has nothing to do with the catering
business. You had every right to expect us to complete the challenge.
Unless, of course, we didn’t want the job, which we do.” Spencer set
his glass on the table and cut into his chicken.
“And when you’re done with dinner, do you still want the job you
didn’t finish earlier?”
“Yes.” He and Dane answered her question together.
“Okay, then you have five minutes to fortify yourselves.” She
looked toward the clock above the walk-in freezer. “Four minutes,