Sizzling. Сьюзен Мэллери

      He was fifteen kinds of gorgeous.

      Lori watched him as he crossed the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. His impressive muscles flexed and rippled with each movement. He looked warm and sexy and deep inside her stomach she felt the beginnings of a quiver.

      He glanced up and saw her.

      “Morning,” he mumbled, then left.

      She didn’t exist to him. Never had, never would. Being attracted to him put her so far in the idiot camp that she would never find her way out.

      She was an embarrassment to intelligent women everywhere. Worse, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

      Chapter Three

      LORI PULLED INTO her driveway a little after five. Her neighborhood was light-years away from Gloria’s street of gated mansions, but Lori didn’t mind. She loved everything about her house.

      Its two-bedroom, two-bath size suited her perfectly. She loved the details of the Craftsman style, the built-ins, the moldings. She loved that she’d painted every wall herself and had done most of the remodeling without help. She loved the colors, the garden, the porch, the way the house looked solid…and made her feel safe.

      She walked inside and breathed in the scent of garlic. “You’re cooking,” she yelled by way of greeting. “You’re not supposed to be cooking.”

      Madeline stepped out of the kitchen and grinned. “I don’t believe that was in the contract I signed, but I’ll have to go check. Besides, I’m having a good day. On good days I want to cook.”

      Lori studied her sister’s face, searching for lines of fatigue or paleness in her coloring. Neither was there. Instead Madeline looked serenely beautiful, as she always had.

      In Lori’s mind, the family gene pool had a killer sense of humor. Lori was average height, Madeline a few inches taller. Lori had inherited awful orange curls that had thankfully faded to a more muted reddish-gold. Madeline had auburn waves. She woke up looking like a 1940s movie star. With a little effort and some mascara, she looked like a goddess. It had taken Lori most of her life, but she’d finally learned not to be bitter.

      “How was day two?” Madeline asked. “Gloria still a challenge?”

      “She defines the term. This morning she nearly hinted that she liked having me around and then spent the rest of the day insulting me. I have to say there’s nothing wrong with her brain. She’s really good at the one-line put-down.”

      Madeline folded her arms across her University of Washington sweatshirt. “You still like her?”

      “I do. I know I shouldn’t. There’s a power struggle in our future and I’m going to win, but still, there’s something about her. She’s trying too hard to be a bitch and I can’t figure out why. Is it a defense mechanism? A way of coping? Did she have to be a bitch to get ahead all those years ago and forget to turn it off? One of her grandsons called. This guy named Cal. He wanted to come by and check on her. Gloria wouldn’t take the call and told me to tell him that she would be dead soon and then he could be happy.”

      Madeline shook her head. “You didn’t tell him that, did you?”

      “No, but it made me wonder.”

      “Not every sick person is a saint. Aren’t most of them exactly like they were in their regular life?”

      “Yes, in theory. But I just don’t want that to be true in Gloria’s case. I keep thinking something’s there. Maybe it’s because Reid was so insistent that she was awful. When I interviewed for the job, he made her sound like the devil.”

      Madeline grinned. “Oh, so we’re back to talking about Reid. You do have him on the brain.”

      Lori willed herself not to blush. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sniffed. “I smell garlic but nothing else. What’s for dinner?”

      “Don’t try to change the subject. Admit it. You have a thing for Reid Buchanan. My practical sister has totally fallen for a sports hero.”

      “Not exactly fallen,” Lori muttered. “I have a stupid crush on him, okay? It’s chemical, which means it’s not my fault. I react to him. But it doesn’t mean anything. I’ll get over it. I’m smarter than him.”

      “Being smart doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

      “So my hormones keep telling me.”

      “Maybe you should go out with him,” Madeline told her. “Maybe he’s better than you think.”

      Madeline was possibly one of the nicest people on the planet. She saw good in everyone and believed in miracles. But Lori had never been a believer, and most people got on her nerves.

      In Madeline’s fairy-tale universe, men like Reid Buchanan would absolutely date women like Lori. They would probably find them fascinating. Unfortunately, Lori didn’t live in that universe.

      She pushed up her glasses. “I don’t think I’m his type. I get on his nerves. I’m not deferential enough.” All excuses for the real thing—Reid would never see her as a sexual being. She was his grandmother’s nurse. Sort of a living appliance. No matter how much she wanted that to be different, it wasn’t.

      “You’re funny and pretty and smart. Of course you’re his type.”

      Lori avoided mirrors whenever possible, but she couldn’t escape them. Pretty? Not so much. She was average. Nothing more, nothing less.

      “You’re an optimist,” she said. “Sometimes that’s annoying.”

      Madeline laughed. “You can’t be mad at me. I made spaghetti with garlic bread.”

      Lori’s mouth watered. “A carb fest for dinner?”

      “Absolutely. I was in the mood.” Her sister linked arms with her and led her into the kitchen. “While we’re eating, we can strategize about Reid. What you can do to get his attention.”

      “I don’t want his attention. He’s not anyone I would ever want to be with.”

      It was an old pattern, but one that had always served Lori well. She found it really helpful to put down that which she couldn’t ever have. It made the doing without so much easier.

      “I’VE MISSED EVERYTHING about this kitchen,” Penny Buchanan said as she ran her hands across The Waterfronts countertops, then lightly touched the control knobs on the stove. “It’s bigger than I remember. Is that possible?”

      Dani Buchanan grinned at her sister-in-law. “No. You’re remembering the kitchen filled with people and now it’s empty.”

      “But it will be full soon,” Penny said dreamily. “We’ll be cooking delicious food and it will be like I was never gone.”

      She leaned against the counter, then stared at Dani. “Oh, God. Am I a horrible mother for being thrilled to be back at work? I am, aren’t I?”

      Dani laughed. “Not at all.”

      Penny shook her head. “No. It’s not natural. I shouldn’t have any interests other than the baby. What if Allison knew I loved my work more than her? She would be devastated.”

      Dani grabbed Penny by the arm. “Hey, slow down. Take a breath. You’re fine. Loving your work is allowed, even encouraged. You need to be back in the kitchen because being a chef is part of who you are. As for the baby, Allison is incredibly spoiled and totally loved. Just be grateful you love your job.”

      “You mean be rational,” Penny said with a slight smile. “Hard to do these days, when I’m living in a sea of hormones. But I’ll try. You’re right. I love Ally, but cooking will always be my passion.”

      “See, I think you have a much bigger problem with Cal than with the baby. He’s not going