Free Taste the Heat by Rachel Harris

trademark ponytail in place.
    “Yeah, Mom was a photo nut,” Emma explained. “I think Dad’s afraid to take anything
     down, like it’s going to upset me or something. So he just keeps adding new pictures
     to the walls. Soon he’s gonna have to hang them on the ceiling.” She pushed open a
     door and pointed inside. “This is the bathroom. My dad’s room is at the end of the
     hall, the laundry room is on the other, and here’s my room,” she said, indicating
     the closed door across from the bathroom. Turning the knob exposed a sea of blue walls
     and a matching bedspread. “Just holler if you need anything.” Then Emma ducked inside
     and closed the door.
    Colby turned back to the bathroom. She needed to clean herself up, and try to get
     a handle on the wet mess otherwise known as her hair. But the large wedding photograph
     she just spied at the end of the hallway was calling her name. If she was quiet, she
     could slip down the hall now and get a good, unaccompanied stare at Ashleigh on her
     wedding day, and the look in Jason’s eye she already knew she’d find when he gazed
     at her. With a quick glance in either direction, Colby sprinted across the plush carpet
     and toward the gilded frame.
    Ashleigh had been tall, blond, and gorgeous. Basically everything Colby wasn’t. In
     the picture, she stared up at her new husband, obviously head over heels in love.
     Like she did back in high school. Colby had only been a freshman when they were seniors,
     but she used to watch them from across the cafeteria. They were the golden couple,
     and Jason loved surprising his girl with a single flower or a box of candy. Little
     things that fueled Colby’s fantasies. And every time he brought those gifts, Ashleigh
     would look up at him with the same expression of love she did in their wedding photo.
    As for the groom, the Jason in the photograph was the Jason that Colby remembered
     from her childhood. Young and handsome, with that mischievous glint in his expressive
     eyes. His dark hair was longer then. Studying him closer, Colby decided he couldn’t
     be older than early twenties; she’d say twenty-one or twenty-two at the most. A love-struck
     smile tugged at young Jason’s lips, and an irrational sense of jealousy flared in
     her gut.
    Turning back to Ashleigh, Colby glimpsed what Emma would look like in about ten years.
     While the girl had Jason’s eyes, the rest was clearly all Mama. From her height, to
     her smile, to the color of her hair, Emma had to be a daily reminder of Jason’s deceased
     wife.
    How painful must that be?
    Knowing her time was running short, she took another step closer to the picture, soaking
     up every detail in pathetic curiosity. The way Jason held her hand, the way he looked
     at his wife, the old-fashioned style of the bride’s wedding dress…
    Colby narrowed her eyes, zeroing in on how the gown flared at the bride’s stomach.
    Unless she was mistaken, that was a decided baby bump. Another piece fell into place.
    A thump sounded from inside Emma’s bedroom. Not wanting to be caught snooping, Colby flew
     down the hall and enclosed herself in the bathroom.
    …
    “I guess that judge knew what she was talking about after all,” Colby declared, slapping
     her hands over her flat stomach. Jason averted his eyes from the sexy flash of skin. What is wrong with me? “Because that pasta was positively delicious. Well done, Chef Landry. You’d give me
     a run for my money any day.”
    He nodded his thanks, grateful for the compliment, as unlikely as it may be. He’d
     cooked many meals in his life. Even before Ashleigh died, he’d enjoyed tooling around
     in the kitchen. Focusing on the tasks of chopping, stirring, and adding the occasional
     random spice to the recipe he was using quieted his overactive mind. And after becoming
     a widower and the sole provider for his daughter’s daily nutrition, well, that enjoyment
     turned into more than just a hobby. As Emma grew