In Teach Me To Forget, Jonathan tries to make amends with Bethany by baking biscuits for her the first morning at his secluded forest home (in case you’re wondering, no they didn’t get up close and personal right away…that’s for later)
Bethany stared. “You made biscuits?”
A mocking brow asked her who else there was to make them. She also interpreted it as questioning if she would have made them, or if she could. Flushing at the inanity of her question, she idled over to the sun-drenched breakfast nook, so appealingly set with earthenware dishes that matched the mugs.
Butter filled a crock beaded with condensation that glistened in the early morning sun. The same sun highlighted clear jars of
jelly, bathing the table in their hues of peach and purple. She slid hesitantly onto the bench across from Merritt, whose full attention seemed to be on the steaming biscuit he was hiding under layers of butter and jelly. He didn’t raise his head, but nudged the basket in her direction. She took a biscuit hesitantly, bringing it closer to her face to break it open and engulf her senses in its warm essence.
“It smells wonderful,” she offered.
He indicated the crock of butter, and pushed the jelly jars closer, obviously intending her to make herself at home. Such an offer did not need to be repeated, particularly when she discovered she was ravenous. The butter melted instantly, and the jelly was diligent in offering up its goodness. She took a large bite, closing her eyes in sheer sensual enjoyment.
“Where did you learn to bake like this?”
He shrugged, appropriating another biscuit and decorating it before popping a liberal portion into his mouth, followed by a healthy swig of coffee. She couldn’t stop herself from watching the action of his throat muscles, nor from imagining the path the biscuit took. From the outside, that path was well defined by dark chest hair that lessened as it tracked lower but never seemed to totally—she jerked her gaze away, wondering when it had turned so warm and striving to remember the lessons of her youth. Advanced deportment had never covered breakfasts with unshaven men who were practically bare chested and produced biscuits that could win awards.
“Did you mother teach you how to bake?” As a conversational gambit, it covered many areas. It brought in the opportunity of discussing his early life, which would be a good starting point for the interview. It also reminded him he had a mother who had instilled respect for floundering females along with the ability to cut shortening into flour.
He nodded.
She felt her temper—that distant, barely known part of her she kept segregated from her daily life—pull at its chains, demanding some time out in the world. She repressed it automatically.
“You must be excessively hungry, Mr. Merritt,” she said graciously. Mademoiselle would have been so proud of her. “Perhaps you are not a morning person?”
He smiled, finally bringing his devastating sky blue morning gaze fully upon her face.
“I thought perhaps if I filled my mouth with biscuits, I might keep my foot out of it for a while.”
Since I’ve gone Low Carb I can only taste fresh hot home made biscuits vicariously though if a handsome bare chested man was baking for me I just might succumb. Barring that, I make do very well with this recipe I found here: Maria Mind Body Health. She
Mmmmm Biscuits
also has a gravy recipe if you want to be very Southern. I don’t mess with this recipe except for leaving out the sweetener, and I end up with seriously yummy biscuits, well worth the time it takes to separate, whip, and fold.
If you scroll through the comments you’ll find more excellent hints on eating well and low carb. I’ve found cauliflower is my friend…seriously!
For those who have asked about more books from Mona (and thank you for the interest!) I’m waiting for first edits on a Romantic Suspense set in northern New Mexico, and finishing up a semi sequel to Teach Me To Forget. Semi, since my heroine is mentioned by Bethany. Both these current books are set in Willow Springs, New Mexico and I do believe Dr. Paul, Bethany’s veterinarian friend, is going to be visiting Willow Springs in the near future. I can’t wait to see what love has in store for him!
What draws you into a book? Is it the cover, the back blurb, or is it something you read at random? If there’s a prologue, I tend to drift that direction, and hope it’s been included to give the book more depth. Teach Me To Forget was written with a prologue, then sent to Lauri at Black Opal with the option to remove said prologue since I’d included the information later in the book. She opted to include it, especially since there’s a brief scene at the end of the book mirroring the prologue, while resolving loose ends.
Mona Karel Author 