Free Recipe for Satisfacton by Gina Gordon

stare. “Hi.”
    “Hi,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat, fought her rising blush, and tried again. “Hi.”
    “Come in.” He waved his hand behind him and she walked across the threshold.
    The sweet scent of cookies and fresh flowers filled her nostrils. A beautiful summer arrangement sat in a large glass vase on a hallway table to her right—white lilies the star of the display.
    She inhaled deeply. “It smells wonderful in here.”
    “Ginger cookies. They’re almost done.”
    “Those are beautiful flowers.” A woman would pick those flowers. There must be a maid—or he wasn’t unattached, as she’d originally thought.
    “My mother loved having fresh flowers in the house. I just got into the habit of buying an arrangement every week.”
    “You live here?” This unexpected and surprising opportunity was looking more complicated by the minute.
    “For the moment.”
    She nodded. He’d moved back in after his mother died. Sadness settled in his eyes but he shook it off with a swipe of his hand through his dark hair.
    As if his gesture washed away his emotion, he smiled, a satisfied grin that traveled all the way to his eyes.
    Heaven help me. She wasn’t supposed to get involved, but doing her job, in this house, where Jack Vaughn lived, was going to be difficult. “I feel like I’m intruding on family business. Believe me, I know how insane that can get.”
    “You’re not intruding at all.” He moved closer, his shoulders relaxed, his gait confident. “This is a great opportunity for us to become friends.”
    Friends? She wanted to be anything but friends with Jack Vaughn. Stop it, Sterling.
    “So…you’ll be here. When I’m here. All the time.” Was she asking as the professional organizer trying to manage her time, or to confirm just how hard she would have to work to avoid him? There was no way she’d be able to focus with him in the same room.
    “I’ll be working a few shifts here and there, but yes, I’ll be at the house.” That satisfied smile darkened to something a little more intense. Something that sparked a fire in the region she was supposed to be ignoring. “It’ll be nice to have the company.”
    Right. Lonely. He didn’t know anything about being lonely. She was positive that his BlackBerry was filled with names of gorgeous models he’d dated over the years.
    He leaned against the hallway table, crossing one foot over the other. Heaven help her. The man was sexy. “What exactly will you do?”
    “Oh, um…” He sure did like to switch gears. She got back to business. “I’ll take an inventory of your mother’s things and then figure out a plan for storage, disposal, and donation if necessary.”
    “Sounds good.” He raised his hand and gestured to the staircase. “Would you like a tour of the house?”
    “I’d love a tour.” She grabbed a notebook and pen from her bag and followed him across the foyer, which had a fifty-foot ceiling. The walls that surrounded them curved inward as they got closer to the top.
    “This is the sitting room that no one sat in until we came along.” He gestured to a stylish room with a white fabric couch and three matching wingback chairs. A fireplace in the center of the far wall was surrounded by a white mantel. Sterling admired the framed photographs of Vivian Madewood and her boys displayed across the top.
    “White furniture and teenage boys?” she asked. “Your mother was a brave woman.”
    “Or she had really great fabric cleaner.” He grinned. “The furniture is only a couple of years old.”
    He took her through the rest of the first floor—the dining room had an old-world table that sat at least twelve people. Ornate china and silver were housed in a carved hutch and buffet. The kitchen was a chef’s dream. Counter space galore, a Sub-Zero refrigerator, two stovetops, two wall ovens, and the biggest exhaust fan she’d ever seen outside of a professional kitchen.
    “How many hours did you and your brothers