Page 1 of Sizzling Desire

Prologue - Grace

The sound of laughter and sizzling meat fills the air as the warm summer breeze rolls through Kate and Hudson’s backyard. The BBQ is in full swing, the scent of delicious, charred burgers and grilled ribs mingling with the sweet aroma of Kate’s homemade peach cobbler cooling on the patio table. It’s the kind of night that should feel easy, light, a simple gathering of friends unwinding after the whirlwind that’s been the past few weeks.

But nothing about my life feels simple anymore.

I sit with Kate, Mia, Riley, Brooke, Charli, and Sunni at the outdoor dining set, a drink in hand, trying to look more relaxed than I feel. Across the yard, the guys—Hudson, Ian, Declan, Trevor, Kane, Sawyer, and Chance—hover around the grill, caught in a heated debate about something absurd if the animated gestures and occasional head shakes are any indication.

Hudson is manning the grill like he was born for it, flipping burgers with the confidence of a man who knows exactly how he wants his steak cooked and won’t tolerate any arguments.

Pepper, Kate’s massive English mastiff, is loungingunder the table, her large head resting on my feet, while Wilbur, the cranky old goose, patrols the perimeter like the world’s most unpredictable security guard.

Mia leans back in her chair, swirling the ice in her glass as she turns her attention to Charli. “So, Charli, what’s next for you?” she asks, her tone casual but laced with genuine concern. “With the Silver Willow gone, I mean.”

At the mention of the restaurant, an uneasy hush falls over the group.

It’s been a month since the fire, but the memory of it still lingers, a dark cloud hanging over our town. The Silver Willow had been a staple, a place where people gathered for first dates, anniversaries, and everything in between. Now it’s nothing more than a charred husk, reduced to rubble and ash in a matter of hours.

Charli was its heart. The head chef. The one who poured her soul into every dish that came out of that kitchen. And now, just like that, she’s out of a job.

Charli shrugs, taking a deliberate sip of her beer. “I’ll figure something out,” she says, her voice a little too breezy, a little too detached. “Maybe take a vacation, go backpacking through Europe, learn how to make pasta from some old Italian grandmother.”

Riley raises an eyebrow. “You hate traveling.”

Charli waves a hand. “Details.”

Brooke shoots her a knowing look. “So, no real plan yet?”

Charli rolls her eyes. “No, Brooke, no real plan. But it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’sfine.” She punctuates the words by taking another sip of her drink, effectively shutting down the conversation.

The girls exchange glances but let it drop. Charli’s always been fiercely independent, the kind of woman who doesn’t let people see when she’s struggling. She’ll talk when she’s ready—or when she finally gets tired ofpretending.

The conversation shifts to easier topics, and soon, we’re watching the guys as they devolve into some sort of ridiculous argument.

Riley tilts her head, eyes locked on the broad backs of the men, specifically one in particular. “Kane has an objectively perfect ass,” she muses, taking a sip of her drink. “Brooke, you should put that in one of your Sophie Quinn books.”

Brooke laughs, setting her glass down. “Oh, I already did,” she confesses with a grin. “Just don’t tell Trevor.”

The entire table bursts into laughter—except for me.

I scoff.

Riley notices immediately. “Oh, come on, Grace,” she teases. “Even you have to admit the man has a great ass.”

I push back from the table abruptly. “I need a drink.”

Kate’s eyes narrow slightly as she watches me stand. “I’ll come with you,” she says, rising from her chair and following me toward the cooler on the other side of the patio.

I yank open the lid, grabbing a bottle of water instead of a beer. Kate waits until I twist the cap off before speaking.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms, “what’s your deal with Kane? You’ve been glaring at him all day. Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve been glaring at him for months.”

I take a long drink, trying to buy myself time. “I don’t have a deal with him.”

Kate lifts an eyebrow. “Grace. You most definitely have a deal with him. What is it?”

I let out a breath, my fingers tightening around the plastic bottle. “Do you remember the night we met Kane and Hudson?”

Kate’s face softens. “Of course I do.”

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