Today I am so pleased to welcome Layla Reyne to Joyfully Jay. Layla has come to share an exclusive teaser for her upcoming release, Dine With Me. Please join me in giving her a big welcome!
By the time they reached dessert, and Miller strolled out of the kitchen with the silver tray of goodness, as Clancy had come to think of it, Clancy was primed and ready. And when he tasted the chocolate soufflé with Earl Grey crème anglaise, it was beyond semi-orgasmic. Hell, beyond orgasmic. It was a night full of hot-sweaty-blow-your-mind-sex, in a baking ramekin and gravy boat. He eyed the latter, debating whether to turn it up and drink the remaining crème anglaise right from the boat.
Miller followed his gaze, accurately reading his intent. “I will think less of you.”
“I’m not sure I care right now.” The sauce was calling his name, loudly. But he didn’t want to be rude. How else to tackle the problem? A moat! He scooped another spoonful of soufflé into the middle of his dessert bowl and drowned it in sauce until the fluffy chocolate cake floated. “There.” He spread his hands over the dish. “Problem solved.” He loaded his spoon with a tiny bite of cake and as much sauce as he could manage without making a mess.
“First time I tried the profiteroles at Bouchon,” Miller said, “I almost tipped the gravy boat to drink the rest of the Valrhona chocolate.”
“Then who the fuck are you to judge?”
Those deep, attractive lines appeared at the corners of Miller’s eyes. He reached across the table and snuck a fingertip into Clancy’s moat.
Clancy knocked his knuckle with his spoon. “I will defend my castle.”
They both busted up laughing, louder even when Miller built a castle and moat of his own. They eventually stopped giggling long enough to finish the soufflé and sauce, and Miller loaded their empty dishes onto the tray, taking them back to the kitchen.
Clancy, needing a stretch and some extra room for his digesting food, stood and wandered over to the window, loving the reflection of the harbor on the dark, inky water. He could only imagine what it was like here during high season, when the docks and boat slips would be packed. In off-season, there were people walking along the docks still—locals, some seasonal travelers—but the overall sense of the place was unhurried and peaceful. A vacation town on vacation. In any event, he bet Oscar’s had been packed year-round, the location prime and the homey food enjoyed by locals and tourists alike.
“Madeira?” Miller, chef-coat undone over his T-shirt and jeans, strode his way with a squat bottle, its details hand painted on, and two tulip-shaped glasses in hand.
His ease and confidence were so sexy Clancy had to stop himself from lunging. “Sure,” Clancy managed, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strangled as his dick felt in his jeans. Miller filled the glasses and handed one to him. He sipped the nutty, sweet-tasting wine and stared back out the window, looking away from the too-attractive man at his side. “Greg was right,” he said, aiming for distraction. “The sauces were amazing.”
“And the rest of the food?”
“Even more so.”
“Good.” Miller turned and rested back against the window ledge. “The least I could do for the amazing job you did out here.”
Tearing his gaze from the water, Clancy mirrored Miller’s position, taking in the space and his Santa’s helper handiwork again. “The place has great bones. I can only imagine the vibe was as comforting as the food, when it had a full dining room and bustling kitchen.”
“It’s my favorite place I’ve chef’ed. My favorite place to cook.”
“I know.” Clancy set his glass down and shifted, hip against the ledge. He raised a hand, tracing the laugh lines that had tempted him all week. “It’s all over your face, Miller.” The warmth, the peace, the sense of home.
Home. Comfort. Here.
An arena full of stadium lights blasted on in Clancy’s head. “Why don’t you do this then, again?”
“The fine dining concept didn’t work for you. So try this.” Clancy waved a hand toward the dining room. “This is what you love. It’s clear as day here.” He cupped the side of Miller’s face. “Do this. Cook what you love. And do it here.”</span>
Life never tasted so good.
Miller Sykes’s meteoric rise to award-winning chef is the stuff of culinary dreams, but it’s all crashing down around him. He’s been given a diagnosis that could cost him something even more precious than his life: his sense of taste. Rather than risk the very thing that defines him, Miller embarks on a last tour of his favorite meals while he still can.
But there’s a catch: he needs a financial backer to make it happen, and he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s sick.
Dr. Clancy Rhodes has two weeks to come to terms with putting aside oncology to work at his father’s thriving plastic surgery practice. When the opportunity to travel with a Michelin-starred chef presents itself, the foodie in him can’t believe it. It doesn’t hurt that Miller’s rugged good looks are exactly Clancy’s cup of joe.
As Clancy and Miller travel from coast to coast and indulge in everything from dive bars to the most decadent of culinary experiences, they’re suddenly sharing a lot more than delicious meals. Sparks fly as they bond over their love of flavors and the pressures of great expectations. But when Miller’s health takes a turn for the worse, Clancy must convince him he’s more—so much more—than just his taste buds. And that together, they can win a battle that once seemed hopeless.
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
RITA Finalist Layla Reyne is the author of the Agents Irish and Whiskey, Fog City, and Changing Lanes series. A Carolina Tar Heel who now calls the San Francisco Bay Area home, Layla enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart-pounding romance. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and its Kiss of Death and Rainbow Romance Writers chapters. Layla is a 2019 RWA® RITA® Finalist in Contemporary Romance (Mid-Length) and 2016 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist in Romantic Suspense.
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