Title: How Sweet It Is
Author: Kelly Jamieson
Release Date: December 30th 2014
A free-spirited woman…
Eccentric interior designer Mirelle Brasseur is tired of relationships with handsome, charming, fickle men—in other words men just like the father who abandoned her. She’s fun and funky, but takes her career seriously. She’s not about to let a man derail her dreams or wound her heart again.
An ambitious man…
Award winning chef Bradan Hunt is handsome and charming, but he's always honest with women about his one date-one night rule. Between his best-selling cookbooks, his TV appearances, and his restaurant, he’s too busy for a relationship. He saw what a lack of ambition did to his parents. Bradan wants more. His newest restaurant is going to be the best, so he hires Mirelle to help him design it.
Turn up the heat…
Soon it isn’t just the food sizzling in the kitchen, in spite of Mirelle’s misgivings, as the attraction between the chef and the designer heats up. It will take more than one date-one night for them to overcome their pasts and find a way to cook up a sweet future together.
About Kelly Jamieson
Kelly Jamieson writes romances with heat that's sweet. Her writing has been described as “emotionally complex”, “sweet and satisfying” and “blisteringly sexy”. If she can stop herself from reading or writing, she loves to cook. She has shelves of cookbooks that she reads at length. She also enjoys gardening in the summer, and in the winter she likes to read gardening magazines and seed catalogues (there might be a theme here...) She also loves shopping, especially for clothes and shoes. But her family takes precedence over everything else (yes, even writing). She has two teenage children who are the best kids in the world, not that she’s biased, and a wonderful husband who does loads of laundry while she plays on the computer writing stories.
How Sweet It Is
Copyright © 2014 by Kelly Jamieson
Mirelle turned her face up to the pale morning sun, then checked out the produce arranged on tables. The abundance of colors and shapes and textures was almost overwhelming. She studied baskets of avocadoes. Who knew there were so many different kinds? Some had bumpy black skins, others were shiny and green. Another stand had bins of salad greens—ruffly lettuces, mustard greens, chard with white and red and bright yellow stems, kales and spinach.
“Oh my.” She let out a sigh of pleasure.
“Look at these berries.” Sofi tugged her arm.
“Albion strawberries.” The stocky dark-haired man behind the table gave them a friendly smile. “They taste much better than the flavorless red lumps of cardboard at the supermarket. Try one.” He offered them a small basket. Mirelle picked up a fat red berry and took a bite.
Her eyes widened as the strawberry nectar filled her mouth. “Oh my god. This is unbelievable. I have to have some of these.”
“No,” Sofi hissed. “Remember?”
“We usually sell out,” the man said.
“I’m buying them now, I don’t care about your plan.” Mirelle dug into her purse.
“Mirelle.” The deep male voice uttering her name startled her. She turned around to see Bradan Hunt standing behind her. His hands were shoved into the front pockets of a pair of faded jeans, his black jacket only half-zipped over a white T-shirt that stretched across his flat abs and chest. He gave her a slow, sexy grin, a flash of white teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that attractive way. She blinked at him.
“Hi,” he said. “Buying strawberries?”
She nodded, pulling out her wallet. “Er. Yes. Hi.” She paid the man and he put a basket of strawberries into the cloth shopping bag she’d brought along. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Buying food. I cook, you know.”
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Oh yeah, that’s right.” They smiled at each other as moments accumulated and wings fluttered in her tummy. Her body began to tingle, her gaze fastened to his.
She’d dreamt those chef fantasies again all night, hot sweaty dreams about a sexy chef laying her out on the counter and sampling her body in very delicious ways. And this morning, she’d been annoyed. Annoyed at him for invading her fantasies like that. Annoyed at him for being so damn good with the animals and so helpful at the shelter. Annoyed at him giving up on his offer to go out for coffee so easily. Annoyed at herself for being annoyed about that, because she didn’t want to go out for coffee with him. She wanted him to leave her alone.
But now here he was, standing in front of her, his dark hair hanging over his forehead, his strong jaw dark with that scruff of beard, smiling at her, and her annoyance faded away like morning fog in the sun, replace by tingling awareness.
Mirelle turned and blinked at Sofi. “Oh. Sofi, this is Bradan Hunt. I mentioned the new project I have, designing his new restaurant.”
“Oh yes, I think you did mention it,” Sofi said, extending hand to Bradan. Mirelle resisted the urge to grin. “Nice to meet you.” Her usual calm and cool manner gave no hint of all the things Mirelle had said to her about Bradan on the phone the other night.
“Nice to meet you, Sofi. So you ladies are out shopping for food, hmm? What have you seen that’s interesting?”
“You should be the one telling us.”
“We just got here,” Sofi added. “We want to look at everything before we buy. Or at least, I want to.” She cast a pointed glance at Mirelle’s shopping bag.
Mirelle clutched the bag tighter. “I wanted these strawberries. I wasn’t taking a chance on them selling out.”
“Those are awesome strawberries for sure,” Bradan said gravely. “Good decision. Let’s look more.”
And somehow he ended up accompanying them through the market. He purchased large quantities of things, the sellers stowing them in plastic bins for him to pick up later. He held up baby zucchinis with the golden blossoms attached. “For stuffing. And look at these potatoes.” He studied them and discussed them at length with the seller—baby purple potatoes that were apparently Russian Blue, little red ones called Chieftains and Russian banana fingerlings.
“And these are sweet potatoes,” the man at the stand said. “Japanese white and Okinawan purple.”
“Sweet potatoes,” Bradan murmured. “I have to have some of those.”
“Potatoes,” Sofi whispered to Mirelle. “Who knew they could be so sexy.”
Mirelle wanted to groan. Even the way he breathed was sexy.