Menu for Romance by Kaye Dacus Page A

if he were going to raise it to kiss the back of it. “When I met you, I thought you were beautiful. But I was wrong. You’re gorgeous.”
    Her toes curled in their cramped confines. Heat prickled her face, knowing the two receptionists were gawking at them. “Thanks.”
    “Ready to go?” He turned and swept his arm toward the main doors.
    “Yes.” She allowed him to take her coat and assist her into it, and her breathing hitched when he settled his hand in the middle of her back to walk her to the door. Deep smile lines appeared in his cheeks when she looked up at him.
    The front door swung open before they got to it. Meredith stopped, mortified.
    Of anyone who could possibly walk through those doors at five twenty on a Friday evening, why, oh why, did it have to be Major O’Hara?

CHAPTER 8
    Major stopped and did a double take of the couple standing in front of him. Some guy had his arm around Meredith—who looked absolutely stunning. Something hot and sticky and ... and ... green oozed through every piece of Major’s being.
    She had the decency to blush almost as dark red as her coat. “Major? Did you need something?”
    The temptation to hide the Styrofoam box behind his back and make up some other excuse for his presence made his hand start to shake. How could he have forgotten she’d mentioned she had plans tonight?
    “I—one of the sauté chefs didn’t show up, so we got into the weeds this afternoon, and I forgot...” He held up the box. “I forgot to bring you a dinner box.”
    “Oh.” An expression that looked quite close to pity flickered across Meredith’s face. She glanced at her companion then back at Major. “It’ll keep till Monday, won’t it?”
    He was the biggest idiot in the world. “Yeah ... yes, it should. I’ll put it in the fridge in the executive kitchen just to make sure it stays cold enough.”
    “Thanks. I have so many meetings on Monday, it’ll be nice to know I don’t have to worry about scrounging up lunch.” She twisted the shoulder strap of her briefcase with her left hand.
    When Meredith again glanced at the man beside her, Major turned his attention in that direction as well. Because he was six foot one, not many men made Major feel short—but this guy did. He towered over Meredith, even in her high heels, by almost a foot.
    “I’m sorry. I should have introduced you. Major, this is Ward Breaux. Ward—Major O’Hara, B-G’s executive chef.”
    The curly-haired giant didn’t even have the decency to take his left arm from around Meredith when he shook Major’s hand.
    “So, how do you two know each other?” Major cringed, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
    “I had the very good fortune of running into Meredith at the hardware store on New Year’s Day. I knew it must be fate—how often does a guy run into a gorgeous lady like this buying wood epoxy on a holiday?” Breaux smiled down at Meredith with a proprietary gleam in his dark eyes.
    Molten heat roiled in Major’s stomach. “Really?”
    Meredith cleared her throat. “Ward is a contractor. He’s going to give me a bid for finishing the work on my house.”
    “Oh.” That didn’t explain why Meredith was wearing a silk dress and looking like a movie star.
    “Yes—but I do have to admit, I’m much more interested in the owner of the house right now.” The interloper glanced at his watch—and returned his arm around Meredith’s waist. “If we’re going to make our six o’clock reservations, we should go.”
    “I’ll put this away for you.” Major wanted to draw her into his arms and show his previous claim but settled for giving her the warmest smile he could muster. “I’ll see you Monday.”
    “Bye.”
    He turned when he reached the executive dining room, hoping to see Meredith watching him with longing in her gaze. But she and Breaux were already disappearing through the frosted-glass doors.
    “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbled, making his