Just a Taste by Shannyn Schroeder Page B

on the grill. Everything she said made sense, but he wanted to be more than cheap, filling finger food. “I think we should consider expanding, trying new meals in addition to tacos.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œI’m not sure yet. I haven’t thought it all the way through.” Which was odd that he would even mention it to her. He never talked without thinking first.
    â€œBefore you go rushing into changes, I think you should keep it as is and give it a shot. Adding more menu items will complicate things and you haven’t been on the road yet. It’s a lot to handle.”
    Again, she had a point. The woman was a businessperson without a doubt. He heated a tortilla and scooped beef on. Then he sprinkled cheese, lettuce, and tomato. He turned to her, holding his taco. “Here.”
    Her eyebrows slammed together. “I’m not hungry.”
    â€œJust try it. Let me know how it tastes.”
    He stepped closer, putting the taco to her lips, and waited. She pressed her lips together and he nudged at her mouth with the food. This brought a smile, much like it had yesterday when she’d claimed repeatedly that she didn’t want to eat anything. She opened her mouth and took a bite.
    His fingers grazed her lips. Her eyes widened a fraction at his touch. He pulled his hand away, but stayed rooted to his spot, mere inches from her body.
    Her eyebrows crinkled again, this time wrinkling her nose in the process—never a good sign for the chef.
    â€œWhat?”
    She visibly swallowed, as if it took effort. “It’s awful.”
    He looked at her and waited for her teasing smile, but none came. “You’re serious?”
    She nodded.
    He took a bite of the taco and before he even chewed, he realized she was right. It was awful. The meat was bland and rubbery. It had no kick at all. He reached for a paper towel and spit the food out.
    Carmen nudged his arm. “That’s not fair. I swallowed it.”
    â€œThat was your own silly mistake.” He stared at the food, and then started scraping it into the trash. “What the hell did I do wrong?”
    â€œI have no idea. I’m not a cook, remember?”
    She stood close to him and her perfume wafted up as a cold breeze swept through the open window. She picked at a leaf of cilantro and sighed. “My dad always said part of why his food was so good was because of the love he had for it. Maybe your heart’s not in it.”
    While he’d always been passionate about cooking, he didn’t believe that not having his heart in making tacos would ruin them. Shit, anyone could follow a recipe and have it turn out decently. He looked down into her dark, soulful eyes. He lost all train of thought and leaned down to brush his lips across hers.
    Her sudden intake of breath hitched a little, but she relaxed against him as he put his hands under her hair. His thumbs stroked her jaw as he tilted her head up for better access. She was soft and smooth and he inched closer to feel more of her.
    Carmen grabbed at his shirt on his chest, bunching the material, but then she flattened her hand and gave him a push. He took a small step back, but didn’t release her face.
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    â€œI’m kissing you. Did you not like it?” He knew the answer, but as a gentleman, he had to ask.
    â€œYes. No. What about your girlfriend?”
    Now he did drop his hands. “What girlfriend?”
    She sidestepped him in the small space. “The one who rushed out of your apartment yesterday morning?”
    Yesterday? Ahh . . . Lily. “I don’t have a girlfriend. That was Lily, and while she’s a girl and my friend, she isn’t my girlfriend. We hang out together and cook sometimes.”
    â€œBut she spent the night?”
    â€œOn my couch. She had too much to drink before dinner the night before and passed out.”
    â€œOh.”
    What did that mean? He gave Carmen a