Free The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) by Ava Miles Page B

their faces said it all.
    They were having the time of their lives, which was exactly as it was supposed to be.
    It made him so grateful to see the change in them. When they’d first moved to Dare River, they had been tentative and quiet, particularly Rory, but they’d broken out of their shells and learned to play like the kids they were.
    “Hey, Mr. McGuiness!” Annabelle called out, a picture in her yellow dress with blue piping. “We’re fighting aliens.”
    “Oh, you are?” he said as the kids ran right past him and disappeared from sight.
    When the temperature on the grill reached four hundred, he oiled the chicken breasts and put them on the grill. The flames shot higher, and he opened the side cabinet to retrieve the grill tongs.
    “Do you mind if we eat outside, John Parker?” Tammy asked from behind him.
    He turned and that bolt of attraction he always felt for her knocked him in the gut. It never failed to overwhelm him. God, she was beautiful, and her new style softened her in a way that made him want to tug her to him with her apron strings.
    “I don’t mind the heat,” he said, keeping one eye on the chicken. It would be embarrassing if he burned them because he was too busy staring at his hostess.
    “Great,” she replied, tucking her hands in her Capris like she didn’t know what to do with them. “I’ll just set the table.”
    When Rye had created this outdoor space, he’d spared no expense, going so far as to add an outdoor sink and cabinets so no one would have to run indoors for supplies. The plates Tammy pulled from the cabinets weren’t the ones he, Rye, and the boys had used when they’d barbecued here in the past. No, these were white plates with a blue chintz pattern. Cloth napkins in the same blue dressed up the table nicely. Tammy or Tory must have chosen the new things—they had a woman’s touch.
    As he flipped the chicken, she came up beside him, her floral perfume intoxicating.
    “I’m going to cut some flowers for the table,” she told him and then walked off.
    The kids made another round, Annabelle yelling at Rory. Man, he remembered running like that with his sisters, dogs in hot pursuit. The thought made him smile.
    Tammy returned with a bouquet of pale pink roses and some small white flowers that he didn’t recognize, her hands still covered in green gardening gloves.
    “Those look lovely,” he commented as she headed to the sink.
    “Thank you,” she said, dropping the leaves she’d pulled off the roses into the garbage.
    The chicken was pouring off juices now, the fire rising in bursts. He watched surreptitiously as she cut off the roses’ thorns and trimmed the stems until she had achieved the desired height. Like an artist, she arranged them into an elegant display in a bulbous clear vase she’d retrieved from one of the cabinets.
    Tammy took her time with things. Something they had in common.
    “The chicken is almost ready,” he called out. “Do you have a platter?”
    “Coming right up,” she announced, and moments later, she set a yellow one beside him on the grill stand.
    “Thanks.”
    As he checked to make sure the chicken was cooked through, Tammy filled water glasses at each of the place settings she’d set up before disappearing inside.
    When the chicken was done, he stored the platter in the warming oven so the dogs wouldn’t go for it—never could tell—and went to help her finish up. She was spooning the rice into a yellow bowl with the same pattern as the platter. To the right, the zucchini were in another matching bowl.
    Again, order.
    He picked up the zucchini. “Anything else I can carry out for you?”
    “No, I think we’re all set unless you want your hot sauce.”
    “I’ll make sure to pick one without a dirty name,” he told her.
    Her smile was so endearing he almost kissed her right then. “I appreciate that, John Parker. Annabelle would read it out loud if she saw it.”
    Something about the way she said his name made