Storms of Passion by Lori Power

mechanics.
    Her head fell back as she laughed, low and husky. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m no expert. I know enough to tinker, but I can’t fix a car or anything like that.”
    “Me either.” But he dug the idea of chick wearing a tool belt.
    “According to your mother, you’re slowly mastering the craft.”
    He shrugged, his shoulder brushing hers. He struggled with the urge to kiss her. That sweet, innocent expression with slight pouting lips, begging to be kissed. He forced his eyes away from the temptation.
    “Mother doesn’t understand my obsession, of course. But because of Gran, I at least get some backing from my father.”
    “But it’s more than junk you say. Your girl friend and you have the café as well?”
    “Marcy’s a classic chef and I’m a hack.”
    “I doubt that.” Tuck interjected.
    “Agree to disagree then. Our styles are different, but we both love to cook. She was professionally trained and I learned through her. She used to work in classy restaurant, but the pressure became too much.”
    Tuck imagined an iron chef with the intense schedule, anxiety, and close to abusive atmosphere of a high-end restaurant kitchen.
    “Are you sure you want to hear this? I must be boring you.”
    “Yes, and not at all.” He nudged her shoulder. “If I wasn’t interested, trust me, I would have come up with some excuse by this point.”
    Vivian explained how her friend, Marcy, newly married and working her dream job, hardly ever saw her husband. “Her schedule was in total opposition to his and what started as a fairy tale career quickly changed in priority. She wanted a family and decided to try her hand at something else. Marcy was at my place one day when I was restoring a couple of old floor lamps, and the rest as they say, is history.”
    “Floor lamps? Please don’t tell me you started a business based on floor lamps.” He stretched out his legs, enjoying the summer sun on his face, and the feel of her arm beside his. “It’s either the way you tell the story or something I haven’t put my finger on yet, but so far I have a Safire ring and floor lamps.”
    “To be honest I never really thought about it like that before, but I guess you’re right.” She stretched her legs and leaned back on her hands. If he were a bit closer, he could cover her hand with his own.
    “Marcy said if she had a restaurant of her own she would put floor lamps like the ones I had beside the tables to create a homey setting. And there you have it. That was that.” She slapped her hands together.
    Tuck was unconvinced. “I happen to know firsthand it takes more than a lamp to create a business.”
    “You’re right, of course. But that’s how the idea of combining a café with a nick-knack shop sprung to life. Now we operate seasonally, just off the highway between her house and mine. At first, our many critics thought no one would stop at a café close to town, but they do. And they come back. Marcy is an exceptional cook and people wait all year for the May long weekend for the café to open.”
    “Maybe you should have cooked our lunch.” Tuck spontaneously pulling her sunglasses down her nose with the tip of his finger. “You have the most beautiful green eyes.”
    “Ah, thank you.” Vivian gasped for a breath. “But I’m on vacation, no cooking.”
    Tuck turned to face her, leaning even closer to brush his lips over hers.
    ****
    An instant heat filled her core when his lips touched hers. Vivian didn’t push him away. Why would she? Her heart hit the floor of her stomach, spreading tendrils of excitement coursing through her veins. His lips were like the soft caress of a feather teasing across her slightly parted lips. His thumb brushed her cheek and continued to move slowly across her ear to rest at the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue across hers.
    Oh, this is what I wanted to do since first meeting Tuck . Vivian got lost in the moment as the sea breeze