My Twist of Fortune by Rayne, Piper (top fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

the front of the truck and slide in beside her. My keys hover by the ignition. “You look stunning, by the way. I might have to rethink my stance of not sleeping with anyone on the first date.”

She laughs so hard, her head falls back to the headrest. “Sorry, I’ve been repeating the rules to myself all week so I don’t break any.”

I start the truck. “Let’s get out of Sunrise Bay and head somewhere we aren’t considered cousins.”

“Sounds great to me.”

On the drive, we make conversation, mostly about the weather and football. Easy topics.

I park in the lot of the cooking school. “I couldn’t stand the idea of us in a stuffy restaurant or watching a movie. This place has a cook-off. Couples each make a meal and the owner judges.”

She giggles. “And what do we win?”

“I think a coupon to come back. It’s more about the experience.”

She nods. “Awesome. Let’s go win a coupon.”

Her hand goes for the door, but I stop her with my hand on her arm closest to me. “Hold on.”

I climb out of my truck and head to her side, where I open the passenger door and offer my hand. The softness of her palm spurs me to think of what it would feel like to have it wrapped around another part of my body. I feel like a thirteen-year-old again, not a man in his early forties. Jesus.

We walk into the cooking school hand in hand, and we’re the youngest couple by probably twenty years.

“I think we’ve got some ringers here,” I whisper.

“Might as well forget the coupon.” She glances at her watch. “Isn’t it past their bedtime?”

We share a laugh that disrupts the other couples, and all their eyes land on us. Marla slides to my side, almost hiding behind me.

“Hank and Marla, right?” Kat, the woman in charge, asks. I talked to her on the phone about getting a spot for tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.

“That’s us,” I say. As weird as it might be, I love referring to Marla and myself as us.

“Great, let’s get some aprons on you both and get started. The menu is at your station.” She hands us two aprons.

I tie Marla’s in the back, and she ties mine. We wash our hands and listen to Kat go through the directions. When she finishes, I’m put in charge of cutting vegetables.

“Do you cook a lot?” I ask Marla as she puts together a marinade.

“I cooked, but I’m not a cook. I’d always try these elaborate recipes”—she whisks away—“and we’d end up throwing most of it out.”

“When L—”

She points at me.

I laugh because I almost mentioned Laurie’s name. “I live and die by the Crock-Pot.”

“I never was prepared enough. I’m a ‘go to the grocery store an hour before I have to cook’ kind of person.”

“Mom brings things over sometimes, but she’s got this new friend now, so I don’t see her as much as I used to.”

She puts the meat in the marinade, washes her hands, then puts a plastic wrap over the dish and places it in the fridge. “How is your mom?”

“She’s fine, and if you run into her, I’m sure she’ll be bragging about me. I’ve already gotten the third degree from her about your return.”

“What can I say? Mothers love me. Well, that’s not completely true.”

“J—” I laugh as I almost mess up again by saying her ex-husband’s name.

“I’m thinking we should’ve made up some penalties if you mess up.” She leans forward, taunting me.

If she was mine right now, I’d kiss her because she’s adorable when she’s playful.

“What would the penalty have been?”

“Hmm…”

She’s thinking about it, but Kat interrupts us before Marla can answer. She gives us directions on the next step.

“I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before, but we might just win this thing with my salad dressing recipe.” Marla heads to the food area to grab lettuce for a salad.

I continue chopping and wait for her to explain when she returns. I haven’t had this much fun since… well, I need to keep my own promise. As hard as it is, if I really want to move on, I need to push Laurie out of my mind, at least for tonight.

How did I not think about this when Hank mentioned the cooking school? I grab vinegar, oil, and all the spices and herbs I’ll need.

When I return, Hank is chopping the lettuce. “Tell me about this salad dressing that will secure our victory.”

I glance around and pretend as though someone might be able to hear us and steal my recipe. “About two years ago, I went on this diet, and all the low-calorie salad dressings were awful. So I did some research and started making my own. The diet wore off, as they always do.”

“They always do,” Hank says with a chuckle.

“But I continued to use them because at least they cut calories still and they tasted really good.”

He places the lettuce into a bowl. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

With that declaration, nerves consume me. Jeff liked my salad dressings and that’s saying something, but my mother-in-law always said they tasted homemade. I wanted to pull my hair out and say, “Because they are!” I mix the ingredients together and set the bowl in the fridge because I need it to chill as long as possible for the flavors to come out. At least the herbs are fresh, which will help the flavor come out faster.

Hank and I work side by side. He tells me about his dad and taking over the contracting business. I try to steer clear of talking about the kids because that leads to talking about Jeff. I can’t help but feel boring because unless he wants to know how to make homemade Play-Doh, I don’t have much else.

“Do you feel like Sunrise Bay has changed at all?” he asks.

“A little bit. I mean, it’s taken on a very different look. More