Free The Perfect Dish by Kristen Painter

you’re tasting.”
    JP threw his hands up in the air. “So much for the chef’s secret. What’s next, the combination to the safe?”
    “Don’t you have prep you could be doing?” Kelly asked, his gaze never leaving Mery. The sparkle in her eyes mesmerized him.
    “I guess that’s my cue.” JP gave Kelly a salute. “Aye, aye, Chef.” He waved at Mery. “Nice meeting you.”
    “Nice to meet you, too.”
    Once JP was gone, Kelly leaned forward across the bar. “How did you figure out what was in there?”
    Mery shrugged. “I worked at a bakery when I was in high school. Certain things stick with you. Besides, I didn’t really figure out what was in there, I just knew there was more than what JP was telling me.”
    “You’re very perceptive.” Kelly wondered if she had any idea about the persuasive powers of the chocolates he’d fed her.
    “I’m a psychologist, I get paid to be perceptive, to read people.”
    He came around the bar and sat beside her, twisting the bar stool so their knees touched. “So you think you have me figured out?”
    “You? You’re easy,” she said, scooting back in her seat.
    “Really.” He had a powerful urge to kiss the smugness off her pretty face. “Let’s hear it then. C’mon.”
    “Are you sure? Some people don’t like being analyzed.”
    “Stalling ‘cause you haven’t got a clue, huh? It’s okay, I understand.” He winked at her. “I’m a very complicated man.”
    She shook her head, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “Actually, you’re not. You’re an over-achiever, first-born or I’ll give up my license. You thrive on attention and need large amounts of approval. There is some evidence of abandonment, possibly early on so it wouldn’t surprise me to find someone raised you other than your biological mother. Your grandmother, if I had to guess. And although whoever raised you did a good job, you still crave acceptance from those around you. You need people to like you. No matter what level of success you achieve, you never feel like it’s enough. And deep down...well, never mind. I think that’s enough.” She raised her brows and leveled a slight smirk at him. “How was that?”
    He sat there slightly numb, like someone had yanked the covers off him on a cold morning. How did she know all that? Maybe she’d talked to Shelby about more than just going to lunch. That had to be it. “I guess Shelby really gave you an earful, huh?”
    Mery shook her head. “Not really, we only spoke for a few minutes before you arrived.”
    He narrowed his gaze. “So you just figured that out from the couple times we talked?”
    “I told you, it’s what I do. Or did. Since I don’t see patients any more, I’m probably a little rusty.” She laughed a little, a nervous, uncomfortable sound. “Look, there are a lot of other clues to what makes a person tick. You just have to know to look for them.”
    “Like what?” he asked.
    “Sorry, chef’s secret,” she said, a Texas-sized grin on her face.
    He slid forward and laced his fingers through hers. Her skin was as soft as sifted flour. “C’mon, now. I told you what was in the cheesecake.”
    She pulled her hand up, so that their interlaced fingers were right in front of his eyes. “Here’s a perfect example. By touching me, you hope to gain my approval and sway me to your side. You want me to like you.”
    “Is that such a bad thing? That a man wants a beautiful woman to like him?” He drew her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles.
    “You don’t quit, do you?” She groaned lightly and shook her head but the faintest tint of pink colored her cheeks. “Of course not, quitting isn’t in your make-up. You can’t help yourself.”
    “Not when you’re around,” he said, struck by the truth of his own words. This woman was driving him crazy. So what if she had him pegged. Was that such a bad thing?
    “So was I right?” she asked. “How close did I come with my