Coming in Hot
A Jupiter Point Novel by Jennifer Bernard Publication Date: November 28, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Excerpt:
Carolyn went into the kitchen and pulled
sandwich makings from the fridge. What kind of sandwich would a guy like Tobias
Knight like? Something hearty, to maintain all those muscles. Roast beef,
perhaps. Also, something that packed a punch. Horseradish. Horseradish was the
testosterone of condiments. He'd probably like lots of that. Cheese? The guy
didn't have an ounce of fat anywhere on him, at least that she could see.
That might require closer inspection, however.
Jarred by the thought, she accidentally
squirted mustard onto the counter. As she was wiping it up with a paper towel,
Tobias walked into the kitchen.
"All clean," he told her as he went
to the sink to rinse off the cloth he was using. "Should be dry in a few
minutes with this sunshine."
"Mmm-hmm." She tried hard not to
watch the flexing of his muscles as he wrung out the cloth. What were those
muscles at the back of the arm called? The ones that ran in a firm line between
shoulder and elbow and made her mouth water? "What kind of sandwich would
you like? I have roast beef, ham, cheese, I can make some tuna, whatever you
like. Are you a peanut butter jelly man?"
He turned, grabbed a dish towel to dry his
hands, and leaned his rear against the enamel of the farmhouse-style sink.
"I'm easy. You learn not to be picky in the Army."
"Yes, but you're not in the Army
anymore," she pointed out. "Now you can you eat whatever you want.
That's what I do. Every single meal, I give serious and extensive thought to
what I actually want to eat. So, what do you want?"
He stared at her, lips quirking up in a
half-smile. "Really? Every single meal? What did you eat last night?"
"My favorite guilty secret snack. Ritz
crackers, cheese, and pickles."
"I'll have that," he said promptly.
"That's not lunch. That won't hold you
through painting the door."
He waved that off as he hung the dish towel
back on its rod. "I could paint that door on no food. It won't take me
long. The only question is how many coats we need to cover up that ugly
orange."
She shuddered as she pictured it. This morning
she'd sent an email to the math professor letting him know about the vandalism,
though she hadn't included any details—like the fact that it was directed at
her.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to
share my guilty secret snack with you," she teased, half serious. "We
barely just met."
"Guess you have a point there." He
grinned at her. "So what do you want to know so you can decide if I'm
worthy or not?"
"Let's start with what kind of sandwich
you want."
"I told you, I'm easy. Anything you put
together, I'll eat." He put his hand on his belly, hard and flat as a
country highway.
"Roast beef and peanut butter? With
bananas?"
"You're a lot meaner than you look, you
know that?"
She gave him an evil grin. "Fine, I'll
make you what I originally had in mind—roast beef and horseradish. No
complaints."
"Sounds perfect. Can I help?"
"There's nothing much to do. Maybe grab
some plates for us?"
She indicated the cabinet where the professor
kept his dishes. He retrieved two plates, then examined them closely. "I'll tell you one thing I am picky
about—dishes," he explained. "I don't believe in automatic
dishwashers. They don't do as good a job as a human being can. I got rid of the
dishwasher at my brother's place. Do you mind?"
"Go for it." She rarely even used the
dishes here. Her guilty pleasure snack didn't need them, and she usually ate on
campus.
She finished making the sandwiches as he
carefully washed the plates. She seared the image into her brain. A studly man
doing her dishes and painting her door. This was fantasyland stuff.
She slid a roast beef sandwich toward him, then
took a stool on the other side of the kitchen island. She felt a little safer
with it between them.
He waited politely until she picked up her
sandwich.
"Please." She waved him ahead.
"You're a hard-working man, you must be hungry."
"I am. Thanks." Something in the way
he looked at her as he said it made the hairs on her arm rise. He surveyed the
sandwich, which she'd loaded up with extras—tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers,
mustard, mayo and horseradish. "When you make a sandwich, you don't mess
around."
He bit into it, eyes
half-closing as he consumed the layers of her masterpiece. It dawned on her
that making food for someone, then watching them enjoy it, was a very sensual
experience. She'd thought carefully about what to make for him, she'd spent
time creating it, and now he was wrapping his mouth around it in obvious
pleasure.
Oh boy. She was in deep, embarrassing trouble
if she couldn't watch this man eat a sandwich without lusting over him.
About Jennifer Bernard
Jennifer Bernard is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. Her books have been called “an irresistible reading experience” full of “quick wit and sizzling love scenes.” A graduate of Harvard and former news promo producer, she left big city life in Los Angeles for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She still hasn’t adjusted to the cold, so most often she can be found huddling with her laptop and a cup of tea. No stranger to book success, she also writes erotic romance under the name Juniper Bell.
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