Recipe for Romance

By Nancy Naigle

Enjoy this short 100-page romance set in Romance, VA, a picturesque town created by the readers of the Main Street Romance website and Facebook group, along with authors Nancy Naigle, Addison Cole, and Chris Keniston.

Former baseball star Mark Russo is back in Romance, Virginia to help out at That's Amore, his folk's pizzeria, until his father is well.

Emma, the town librarian, plans to steer clear of the city slicker with the bad reputation while he's visiting, but when Mrs. Russo calls in a favor, Emma learns that garden-fresh veggies, and a starry southern sky just might be the recipe for romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Naigle
• Release date: Aug 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393941835

Book preview

Chapter One

Mark Russo tugged his aviator sunglasses from the visor and put them on. It was one of those days where the weather just wouldn’t make up its mind. Cloudy and overcast one minute, and then as if Mother Nature had flipped a switch, the sun blazed. That made the ride back to Romance, Virginia feel even longer.

Should’ve flown.

But the idea of being in a small town with no transportation hadn’t been appealing, and he didn’t know how long he’d be there. Jumping in the truck and hitting the road made the most sense since it wasn’t but a six-hour drive from Atlanta.

Mom had phoned out of the blue asking him to come help with the restaurant because his father was sick, and Mom never asked for help. Ever. So, he hadn’t hesitated one second.

Even though he’d been working at Vivere for three years now, it was like trying to exit the mob to get time off. Especially an open-ended request for a week or longer. But family was family. Vito griped and groaned about the situation, but when Mark got ready to leave Vito had slapped his hand on Mark’s shoulder. You take care of your family. Take all the time you need. Family first. Always, my man.

Family first. Something Mark hadn’t been so good about in the past, and something he planned to change.

Raindrops hit the windshield in heavy splats again causing his automatic windshield wipers to flap frantically in response to the surprise storm. Water ponded at the edges of the highway, and taillights lit in front of him as the traffic slowed to a crawl. Never could trust a summer storm.

The last thirty miles of his trip took three times longer than it should have, but finally the Romance exit came into view.

Water caught beneath his tires as he neared the bottom of the ramp, sending a rooster tail into the air. Gripping the wheel tighter, he suddenly felt anxious about being back home.

It had been a long time since he’d been back, and he hadn’t left on a very good note.

At 35mph, even in the pouring rain it was easy to see, just as he’d suspected, nothing had changed here.

He was only a couple of blocks from That’s Amore, his folk’s pizza shop on Main, when he hit another patch of water that extended well into the road. The sound of the water beneath the truck was loud as his big tires sluiced through it, throwing it out to the side and behind him. The car in back of him honked. In his rearview mirror he saw someone on a bicycle on the sidewalk pedaling to beat the band. This was not the day for a bike ride.

Mark pulled his truck into an empty spot across the street from the pizzeria. The original white and green striped awning had been replaced by a bright red one. Maybe things have changed.

He waited until the rain slowed, then jumped out of his truck and jogged across the street.

Mark! His mom placed a pizza on a table near the door, then turned to him with her arms wide. You made good time. She hugged him tight, then backed off and gave him the glare. Did you speed?

No, ma’am. The storm slowed me down. Took me over an hour to make the last thirty miles.

A lesson in patience. She raised a finger in the air and marched toward the kitchen as if she’d won that round. Mom thought everything was some kind of lesson.

You look good, Mom. She did. But she seemed so much older, and a little fragile. Maybe she was just tired from taking care of Dad. Then again, his parents had been much older when they had him. Had Mom always been this short? I’m glad you’re taking good care of yourself.

She shrugged off his comment. At my age, you look how you look. What I should look is happy to see you.

You do.

Well, then I’m doing something right. She waved for him to follow her.

The zesty aroma of fresh tomato, garlic and oregano wafted through the air.

I’m making more sauce. Come talk to me while I stir. She dipped a long aluminum spoon into the pot on the stove. Football nights always require extra sauce, only I think we’re going to be rained out by the looks of things.

I can pretty much guarantee that, but since when was Thursday night football night, and why are they playing in the middle of the summer?

It’s just a practice game. You know how serious they are about keeping athletes in shape year-round. It’s okay by me, though. Keeps the shop full of hungry customers.

He grabbed another spoon and dunked it into the sauce. Just one bite and he was wishing he’d gone ahead and used one of Mom’s fresh garlic rolls to do the dipping. Nothing beat Mom’s cooking. These days he watched his carbs and sugar. It was going to be a challenge adhering to his strict eating habits while he was here.

Mark closed his eyes and swallowed. Tomatoes, garlic, parsley, basil, oregano, just the right amount of red pepper flakes, salt and a little honey. A rich, full flavor that even he, with the exact recipe, couldn’t replicate.

I could eat that whole pot like it was soup. He kissed her cheek. It’s good to see you, Mom.

You must be starving. Let me feed you.

No, no. I stopped and got something on the way. I’m fine.

She propped her hands on her hips. Fast food? That’s not real food.

I’m good, Mom.

She cocked her head, then the expression on her face softened. Thank you for coming, son.

Of course, I came. Had she really thought he wouldn’t? How’s Dad?

Don’t ask him. He’d tell you he’s fine. She spun away from him, tidying the area around the stove. He’s not as young as he once was. I’ll fill you in later.

Always the caretaker. She seemed to have forgotten she was the same age as Dad. When Mark was a kid, she’d been like a mom to nearly every kid in school. Always there no matter who needed her ear. The restaurant was the most popular hang out because of her, too. Well, the food was always great, but everyone loved her. That was something he’d taken pride in.

It sure is good to see you. She tiptoed to hug him again. My little boy. She softly slapped his cheek. You need a shave. How will you ever find the woman of your dreams and settle down looking like you slept in an alley?

Who said I was looking?

She turned and flashed him a look. Time’s a wasting. You are going to give me some grandchildren to spoil, aren’t you?

Someday.

Well, you can’t do that if all you do is work. It was an old argument. A phone call didn’t go by that this didn’t get mentioned.

In the kitchen, the old pots and pans were more dented than