A Touch of Cinnamon (Three Sisters Catering Book 2) Read online

  A Touch of Cinnamon

  Copyright 2018 Bethany Lopez

  Published January 2018

  ISBN—978–1983758485

  Cover Design by:

  Makeready Designs

  Editing by:

  Red Road Editing / Kristina Circelli

  Proofreading by:

  KMS Freelance Editing

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please don’t participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is also available in print at most online retailers.

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  Young Adult:

  STORIES ABOUT MELISSA—SERIES

  Ta Ta for Now!

  xoxoxo

  Ciao

  TTYL

  With Love

  Adios

  Nissa: a contemporary fairy tale

  New Adult:

  FRIENDS & LOVERS TRILOGY

  Make it Last

  I Choose You

  Trust in Me

  Indelible

  Contemporary Romance:

  A TIME FOR LOVE SERIES

  Prequel—1 Night

  8 Weeks

  21 Days

  42 Hours

  15 Minutes

  10 Years

  3 Seconds

  7 Months

  Novella—For Eternity—Coming Soon

  THE LEWIS COUSINS SERIES

  Too Tempting

  Too Complicated

  Too Distracting

  Too Enchanting—Coming 03/2018

  THREE SISTERS CATERING

  A Pinch of Salt

  A Touch of Cinnamon

  Romantic Comedy/Suspense:

  CUPCAKES SERIES

  Always Room for Cupcakes

  Cupcake Overload

  Lei’d with Cupcakes

  Women’s Fiction:

  More than Exist

  Short Stories:

  CONTEMPORARY

  Christmas Come Early

  Harem Night

  FANTASY

  Leap of Faith

  Beau and the Beastess

  Cookbook:

  Love & Recipes

  Love & Cupcakes

  Children’s:

  Katie and the North Star

  Contents

  A TOUCH OF CINNAMON

  Also by Bethany Lopez

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Epilogue

  Excerpt of More Than Exist

  Chapter One

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my children, for asking, “Did you write a chapter today?” and “Did you finish your book yet?” Your love and support mean more than I can express. I love you.

  “’LO,” I SAID SLEEPILY INTO the phone.

  I’d been up late studying for a quiz, and didn’t bother looking at the face of the phone to see who was calling. I just wanted the ringing to stop.

  “Tash.”

  My name on my sister’s lips, in that tone, had me sitting up and coming fully awake.

  “Millie, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s Mom . . . Tasha, you know I wouldn’t be calling unless it was serious,” my oldest sister said, the pain in her voice tearing me apart. “You need to come home.”

  Tears pricked my eyes as the reality of what she was saying crashed down on me.

  Our mother had been downplaying her illness for so long, I’d begun to believe she’d be okay. But, Millie telling me to leave school and come home meant the worst thing imaginable was happening . . . our mother was dying.

  “I’m on my way,” I stated simply, then pressed end and sat on my bed, staring at nothing as my mind raced.

  It’s a sign. That’s what the voice in my head was telling me. A sign that I was so caught up in Jericho, I’d been losing sight of everything else. My family, my studies, my independence.

  I’d left my mother, sisters, and the only home I’d ever known, so that I could find myself and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Instead, I’d met Jericho, become infatuated in all things Jericho, and had forgotten my real reason for being here.

  I’d skipped holidays and birthdays, opting to stay with Jericho instead. Not wanting to leave him even for a short weekend.

  And now, my mother and sisters needed me, and I needed to go home.

  I packed quickly, grateful for the first time that my dorm room was too small to hold too much stuff, so it didn’t take long.

  Thirty minutes later, I’d sent an email to my advisor letting her know what was happening, my small car was loaded down with all of my belongings, and I was turning out of my dorm parking lot and headed home.

  I kept my eyes straight ahead as I passed Coffee Time, the coffee house where Jericho and I’d had our first date, and where he was probably right then drinking a cup and surfing the internet while he waited for me to meet him.

  I knew he’d hate me, but I hoped, eventually, he’d realize that what we’d had was more than either of us could handle, and was bound to burn out soon. And, maybe, one day, he’d forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye.

  Because if I’d seen his face, or even heard his voice on the phone, there was no way I’d ever be able to leave.

  Natasha ~ P
resent

  “HAVE YOU HEARD FROM MILLIE yet?”

  I looked up from my planner to see my sister Dru coming into the office. She looked nervous, which was weird, because Dru didn’t get nervous.

  “No, why? Does Claire need help out front?” I asked.

  Dru waved her hand and said, “No, she’s got everything under control.”

  I narrowed my eyes, took in the way she was bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet and fisting her hands at her sides. She wasn’t nervous, nervous, she was excited, nervous. Something was going on.

  “What is it?” I asked, pushing my chair back and standing. The movement caused my back to twinge, so I placed my hand on my lower back and stretched from side to side. I guess I’d been sitting too long.

  “What’s what?” Dru asked quickly, suspiciously. “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Oh, something is going on . . . You know something that I don’t and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

  “Or what?” she asked, jutting out her chin and cocking a hip. Now she was trying to deflect her lie by getting feisty. I knew my sister’s game all too well.

  “Or, I’ll get suddenly sick on Saturday and you’ll have to deal with Mrs. Gunderson, Mother of the Bride from Hell . . .”

  Dru lost all signs of feistiness and cried, “You wouldn’t!”

  “You know I would,” I taunted. I wasn’t bluffing and she knew it.

  “But, she made Big Stan at the flower shop cry,” Dru protested.

  “She makes everybody cry. Now, spill. What’s happening with Millie? Did something happen in Graceland?”

  Dru bit her lip, looked at the clock, then sighed.

  “Oh, fine, they’ll be back any minute, so I kept my promise to Jackson and didn’t spill his secret.”

  “His secret?” I asked, then my eyes widened and my mouth dropped. “Did he propose at Graceland?”

  Dru squealed and nodded, and we clasped hands as we both started jumping up and down.

  “Either Kate Spade is having a seventy percent off sale, or someone spilled the beans,” I heard Millie say dryly.

  Dru and I turned to see her standing in the doorway of the office, her hand out in front of her to show off the ring. We took our jumping and squealing to her and both grabbed her hand at the same time.

  “You said yes!” I exclaimed.

  “She said yes,” Dru mimicked.

  “I said yes!” Millie cried, and started jumping with us.

  “Oh my God, it’s beautiful, and so totally you,” Dru said as she leaned in to get a bird’s eye view of the ring.

  “Tell us everything,” I urged. “Did he get down on one knee? Recite poetry, or . . . oh, more Keats? Was Kayla there? Where did he do it?”

  Millie laughed at our exuberance and suggested, “How about we grab some coffee and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Okay, but let’s go down to Rooster’s,” Dru suggested. “I know you’re just getting back, but I could use a change of scenery.”

  Millie nodded.

  We walked through the kitchen, Millie stopping to give Claire a hug and ask how things had been while she was gone.

  “She can give you the lowdown on the kitchen later,” Dru said impatiently, pulling Millie toward the door. “I only have thirty minutes until my next meeting, and I don’t want you skipping any details.”

  Millie laughed and said, “All right. Claire, I’ll come talk to you in a bit.”

  “Sure thing, Mills, everything’s great here. Go catch up with your sisters.”

  We made it through the kitchen and into the storefront, where Millie had to stop to say hi to a couple other people, then we were finally out on the street in front of Three Sisters Catering.

  “Maybe we should have snuck out the back,” I said with a laugh, then allowed my eyes to drift across the street, like they always did when I went out the front door, and I stopped dead in my tracks, ‘cause he was there.

  Standing outside of Prime Beef, the steakhouse he’d opened mere months before we’d opened up shop right across the street, was Jericho Smythe.

  The man I’d fallen in instant lust, and almost as immediately in love, with, in accounting class my freshman year of college. The man who’d consumed my thoughts and feelings for over a year after that meeting, and who I’d unceremoniously left without so much as a Dear John letter years ago.

  The man who still hadn’t spoken to me, but had only glared at me from afar.

  The man who still made my heart yearn, my breath quicken, and my knees go weak with just a glance.

  I turned my head quickly and grabbed my sisters by the hands, urging them to keep walking toward Rooster’s.

  “I’m guessing you two didn’t talk things out while I was away,” Millie said softly, her eyes on Jericho.

  I shook my head.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure Jackson’s going to have him involved in the wedding in some capacity, so you won’t always have the luxury of having Main Street between you. You need to swallow your pride and talk to him, Tash. Explain what happened and clear the air so that you can at least be civil to each other.”

  I smiled sadly and nodded, but stopped myself from correcting her.

  It wasn’t pride that kept me from talking to Jericho, it was fear. Not fear that he wouldn’t understand, and would never forgive me. But, fear that he would . . .

  Jericho ~ Present

  THE PAIN THAT HIT MY gut was as instantaneous as the rapid beating of my heart at the sight of her.

  It happened every time.

  Every. Single. Time.

  I did my best to ignore it, to ignore her, but I’d been trying that since I’d arrived over a year ago, and it was just as impossible now as it had been then.

  Not when I could hear the sexy timbre of her voice, see her gray-blue eyes widen with fear every time they landed on me, or feel the weight of her longing. Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, it was there.

  Just as I still longed for her.

  I stood a moment longer, watching the three sisters walk down Main Street, Natasha’s bright-red bob swaying with each step, then forced myself to turn away and walk inside.

  I strolled through Prime Beef, glancing around at my staff and making sure the dining room was ready to open for lunch. I didn’t bother going into the kitchen, I knew my head chef, Hector, would have everything under control. That was why I’d hired him, after all, so that I wouldn’t have to worry about what was going on in the kitchen.

  I was a business major with a hospitality minor, and Hector was a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu with ten years of experience. We made a great team, and although I ultimately owned Prime Beef, I considered him my partner.

  Prime Beef wouldn’t be what it was without both of us, and I was extremely proud of what we’d accomplished in such a short time.

  Still feeling the effects of my Natasha sighting, I headed for my office, pulled open my mini fridge, and grabbed a cold water. I sat at my desk, uncapping the water, and took a long drink, then I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

  Out of all the places in the world I could have opened my restaurant, a small town may not seem like the obvious choice. In fact, Hector had tried to talk me out of it a couple times, arguing that we’d fare better in the big city, but I wouldn’t budge.

  Natasha had talked about this place a few times while we were together, but she’d either downplayed the quaintness of the town, or hadn’t been able to see it for what it was at the time. She had been hell bent on getting away from her hometown and becoming independent, so maybe she hadn’t realized what she had here until she’d gotten older.

  Not me. The second I’d walked down Main Street, I’d known there was no place else I’d rather live and work.

  Coming from the streets of Philly, I’d known hard, cold, and hungry, but what I hadn’t known was beauty, warmth, and community.

  It was true, I’d originally come here to find Natasha. To confront her about her cowardice.
To rage at her for leaving me without so much as a goodbye. To find out why . . . But, I hadn’t done any of those things.

  Instead, I’d bought a prime piece of real estate on Main Street, informed Hector that I’d found our location, and hired a moving van.

  It was a stroke of luck that three months into development, Natasha and her sisters had set up their own business and moved in right across the street. At that time, I’d already been living there for four months, and I still hadn’t run into Natasha.

  To say she was shocked would be an understatement, and to say seeing her had rocked me to my very core would be completely accurate.

  She’d cut and died her hair, and had obviously gotten a few years older, but she still looked exactly the same. My first instinct had been to go to her, to take her into my arms, and tell her how much I’d missed her, but the look of utter horror on her face had stopped me cold.

  Yes, she’d left me without looking back, and yes, I’d come here to rail at her for breaking my heart, but never in a million years had I expected to see that look on her face.

  My confidence had fled and I’d become uncertain of how to proceed, so I decided to wait. To give her time to come to terms with my being here, and to let her come to me when she was ready.

  That had been over a year ago, and she’d never come.

  No, instead, she scurried away like a frightened mouse any time she laid eyes on me.

  Hell, the one time we’d actually been in the same room together, at a bar with her sisters and our mutual friends, she’d looked at me like I was the offender, and had fled the bar almost in tears.

  Her sisters had also looked at me like I was the leaver instead of the leavee, which was totally baffling.

  I was the injured party here, not her, so why had they all acted like I was the asshole? And, why did Natasha’s eyes widen in fear whenever she saw me. She had to know that no matter how angry with her I was, I’d never harm her in any way.

  I opened my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

  I’d been fucking around for over a year, confused, and yes, scared of what finally confronting Natasha would mean. Would she regret leaving me, or was she happy with her decision? Did she still feel anything for me, or had she moved on?