Publication Date: April 19, 2021
Genres / Tropes: Adult, Contemporary, Husky Hero, Body Positive, Plus-sized Hero, Steamy, Romance
A man who makes food like this…
has got to be great in bed.
Sarah:
I’ve landed the job of a lifetime: to write a profile about the Heartthrob Chef himself, Byron Ainsworth. Too bad he’s a slime ball in person. No, the real hero on the set of Decadent Desserts is Ethan, Byron’s deliciously cuddly sous-chef, and I’m making it my mission to spend my time at the studio mostly with him. Let’s call it background research.
As I enjoy more of Ethan’s company and my article begins to take shape, I realize two things: I need to tell Ethan how I feel about him before it’s too late. And something feels wrong about Byron. I just don’t know what it is yet.
Ethan:
The moment Sarah walked onto the set, she didn’t just steal a piece of my heart, she took the whole thing. But she’s not here for me, she’s here to interview Byron. I might be the better chef behind closed doors, but he’s the star of the show, whereas I’m a nobody.
Still, Sarah’s presence infects me like a sickness. She leaves me obsessed and full of yearning, but I know she deserves so much better than me. Every minute spent with her sucks me deeper into delight and despair, and yet I continue to seek her out. Maybe, just maybe, I can use my talents in the kitchen to woo her? Because if I let her slip away, I know I’ll regret it forever.
Recipe for Passion is a steamy body-positive romance featuring an adorable teddy bear of a plus-sized hero and a strong-minded heroine who loves him exactly for who he is.
Excerpt
“What the hell, Ethan? Where have you been?” Byron asks. “We’re about to start!”
I turn my head and am awestruck by the man who’s currently blocking the door. At well over six feet tall, and with broad shoulders to match, he’s almost bigger than the doorframe he just entered through. I wouldn’t really call him muscular, though. He’s more of a cuddly giant rather than a scary one, and yet I’m absolutely lost for words. My heart is racing and my eyes are glued to his. Blue with a hint of green; full, sensual lips and an even fuller head of dark blonde hair. This. This is what I’d hoped to feel during my first encounter with Byron. This is the sort of thing Tom wants me to write about.
The butterflies. The odd lump in my throat. The floaty feeling in my chest. How ironic. The feelings are completely right, but they’re for the wrong guy.
He seems equally flustered by my presence. Or maybe he’s just stunned by my mute psycho stare.
“This is Sarah, the reporter. Remember what I told you the other day, yeah?” Byron says. “Sarah, meet my sous-chef, Ethan.”
Byron’s tone when he addresses Ethan rubs me the wrong way. But it doesn’t seem to bother the gentle giant in front of me, who pays Byron no mind as he offers me his hand.
“Welcome, Sarah. While you’re here, if there’s anything you need at all… Just let me know and it’ll be done,” he says.
That voice. That is the voice Byron should have had. And the firm handshake Byron should have offered me, rather than the weak-ass way he just held my hand for too long.
“Thanks so much. Sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Ethan,” he says with a brief smile.
Oh God. I’m done for.
Before I get to swoon any longer, Jill returns to get everything back on schedule. She leads me to a chair near one of the camera monitors where Claire is already sitting with a headset on and I follow on autopilot. Claire nods a brief acknowledgement in my direction, which finally makes me snap out of my trance.
What the hell just happened?
My heart rate takes a good while to settle down to something close to normal; meanwhile the lights come on and everyone gets into position to start recording.
I let my eyes wander across the darkened studio and the various members of the production team as I calm down. I do a double take when I spot Jill talking to one of the camera guys who vaguely reminds me of Ethan, only not quite. The man himself isn’t anywhere within sight. I wonder what he does here the whole day? There’s never been anyone else on the show except Byron. Why would a TV chef need a sous-chef anyway? Doesn’t he just prepare all the food live in front of the cameras?
“Quiet, everyone! Let’s roll!” Claire calls out next to me before leaning forward to check the feed from the various camera angles on her tablet.
I sigh and shake my head at myself. Remembering Claire’s last instruction, I grab my phone out of my bag and put it on silent.
That’s when I see a message waiting from my bestie from work, Megan, who writes the regular lifestyle column.
‘How goes?’
I can’t help but take the bait and send her a barrage of messages. About Byron. About his fake looking teeth and arrogant demeanor. All of it. Except for the moment of relief I felt once Ethan arrived in the changing room.
‘I thought this feature was my golden ticket, ya know? And a chance to meet TV’s most eligible bachelor. But he’s horrible! Everything you think he is from watching the show, right? He’s the exact opposite,’ I write.
‘Ha! You can’t put any of that into your article, darling. Tom will kill you.’
I hate that she’s right.
I sink deeper into my chair and shoot a sullen glance in Byron’s direction. I wish I could just write about Ethan instead. The feature would practically write itself.
‘I know,’ I write back.
It takes Meg a couple of seconds to send her reply. ‘It’s supposed to be a fluff piece. Think of the readers. Think of the advertising revenue. He’s everyone’s favorite of the month. Nobody wants to read about his creepy, clammy hands.’
I roll my eyes. She sounds exactly like Tom, and I don’t want to hear it.
‘It’s the truth, though,’ I respond.
Should I tell her about Ethan now? Probably. Maybe. But that’ll require a lot more time than what I can get away with. Beside me, Claire is still completely focused on the camera feeds, but she’s bound to notice my absentmindedness sooner or later. She already seemed annoyed by my presence here, so I should do my best to blend in.
Meanwhile, Megan is still typing. ‘Tough shit. Nobody visits celeb gossip sites for the boring old truth. They want glamour! They want to imagine themselves bent over that floury kitchen counter while he impales them with his… rolling pin.’
That would have been funny, if the mental image wasn’t also so off-putting. And she does have a point. I guess this is where the reality of being a tabloid journalist doesn’t match the dream. I don’t happen to like the subject of my feature, but the readers do. Plus, Tom made a deal with the network. Ugh. I suppose it’s still miles better than the opposite scenario: having to tear someone down whom I do like as a person.
I make a face at my phone and stuff it back into my bag, then I open up my notepad and try to figure out what’s going on beyond the stage lighting. I’ve never been to a cooking show shoot before, but it still surprises me how many tries Byron-effing-Ainsworth needs to whip up a basic meringue. Again, these candid observations are not too useful for my article, but I scribble them down anyway.
I start wondering how I’m going to survive a whole week of this when Ethan walks onto the set, carrying several bowls of ingredients, probably. I peer across at Claire’s screen to get a closer look.
Ethan is delicious. Despite the few extra pounds he’s carrying around the waist, or perhaps even because of them? Here’s a man who seems to have a real appetite for life, unlike Byron, who just looks miserable all around. Someone to cuddle with on the sofa while sharing a pint of choco-chip ice cream. A real man, not a cardboard cut-out of one with fake bleached teeth, plucked eyebrows, and a clammy, weak handshake.
The stage—Byron and all—fades into the background until I barely even realize it’s still there. All I have eyes for is Ethan. My pen is moving across the page with a mind of its own, recording any and all impressions I have of him. How watching him interact with Byron makes me feel. How I wish he were the star of the show instead.
I wonder how old he is? Mid-thirties, maybe? Definitely a few years older than me, but not outrageously so...
Okay, I can do this for a week. I’ll just interview him most of the time. I’ll call it background research, or something. Learn about the inner workings of the show from him and brainstorm a new angle for my piece at the same time.
Yes, that could work. Ethan did tell me he’d make sure I get anything I need. It's probably a good thing he doesn't know where my mind went as soon as he said that.
Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback
About the Author
