Page 54 of Red Hot Roaster

I waited a moment for his response—a grin this timeanda chin lift—before I left to take care of the café doors. When I returned, I locked the hallway door—another knowing grin—and the outside roastery door.

Rafe was sitting on the stool where I’d left him, legs braced on the floor. I got distracted for a moment remembering those long muscular jean-less legs tangled around mine this morning. When my eyes rose to meet his and he smirked, my face got all hot. Probably hot pink to match the pink dog collar in the Chocolate Lab logo.

Guess I have to show him who’s boss…at least in this little blind chocolate-truffle-tasting scenario.

I strolled up behind him and reached over to snag the blindfold from the table. My chest may have pressed against his back in the process, and that may have been why he stilled. He stayed that way…still, that is…while I tied the rolled-up scarf around his eyes.

“Rose. Babe,” Rafe growled. “I don’t like to be kept in the dark.”

Oh, so serious, for the man of few words. And why did those few words cause another hot flush…elsewhere?

“Rafe,” I whispered close to his right ear. “This chocolate-truffle-tasting punishment is all in good fun. You’ll describe each truffle, based ononlyyour talented coffee-tasting tongue, not your eyesight. I’ll match your words to one of the truffle descriptions on my scorecard. At the end, we’ll see how many you got right.”

“Will there be a reward for the most right guesses?” Ahhh…now he was catching on…to the point of the challenge. Other than helping me narrow my choices of truffles for our gift tins.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Literally. Wait and see what I was wearing under my usual T-shirt and jeans.

“I’m game,” he grunted out.

Oops, did I say that last part out loud?

All righty then. I picked up the scorecard and settled my heinie on the stool next to Rafe. I opened the first little white box…and saw the not-so-little chocolate truffle inside.Dalmatian. I was going to need a knife to cut this hulk in half.

“Rafe, hang tight for a minute. I have to go get a knife from the kitchen.”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

“This thing is huge.” I paused and waited for the “that’s what she said” moment. Not forthcoming, so I guessed Sergeant Amato had missed out onThe Officeoverseas.

Instead, he said, “I have a knife you can use. If you can pull it out of its sheath. Unfold it carefully. Watch it because it’s honed sharp. And sterilize it afterward.”

How could I turn down that gracious offer? From a man of apparently many words, at least when it came to my safety.

I slid from my stool and crowded between his legs. He held still, again, while I dragged the knife out of the leather holder on his belt and unfolded it. Rafe was right—it had a keen edge and looked ready for business. I was surprised he was letting me use it for something as…as…frivolousas our tasting game.

I turned around to the table and startled a little when he wrapped his arms loosely around my waist.To steady me—right?Pinching chocolate truffle number one out of its box, I sat it down on the bare wood. Ever so slowly and, yes, carefully, I cut that big boy in half. I laid the knife down with the blade pointed away from me and spun back to face Rafe, truffle bite in hand.

“Open your mouth,” I commanded. Before I could push the chocolatey goodness through his lips, he reached up and circled my wrist.

“Wait.”

“Why?”

“Part of tasting is smelling.” He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding to meet mine. When he breathed out, I leaned in to catch his warmth on my lips.

He opened up, and I placed the truffle half on his tongue. He chewed for a few seconds, swallowed and swiped his tongue around his lips to get any stray bits.

“Are you ready?” Rafe asked.

“For what?” I mumbled, a tad…hazy at this point.

“For me to tell you what’s in this truffle thing,” he grumped out.

“Oh. Yeah.” I had to get with the program here. “You sound pretty confident. Go for it.”

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