Two to Tangle (A Tangle Valley Romance #2) - Melissa Brayden Page 0,2
she, for one, relished the anticipation of all that was to come in the next few months. Grinning, she surveyed the barrel and tank rooms down the hill to her right, where her best friend, Madison LeGrange, made magical things happen to grapes. Just past them sat the rustic but modern tasting room, where Joey Wilder, who’d recently inherited the place from her father, served the guests. If you followed the path farther onto the property, you’d come upon several cottages, set aside for those who lived and worked on the grounds. The second one down was hers, and she adored it. Across from the tasting room and adjacent guest patio, she caught sight of shiny blue Jolene, and the building just behind it? Well, that was the site of the vineyard’s soon-to-be brand-new restaurant, name still to be decided. She needed to seriously narrow down her favorites for Joey. Though she’d been given the reins creatively, Joey did still own the restaurant, after all, and would want a say.
Gabriella’s days at Tangle Valley were peaceful, fun, and full of great potential. But first? Biscuits and bacon for breakfast while she prepped for lunch service in a friendly food truck. She’d tune in to her favorite morning radio show on which Darby the Tator Tot kept them laughing and in good company. Maybe she’d dance a little with Tator Tot as she worked.
Her life sparkled and she had no complaints at all.
Chapter One
The sheer satisfaction that came from the perfect bite of food was better than sex. Gabriella was damn sure of it. It scored better than air-conditioning on a sweltering day, the thrill of a roller coaster ride, or a massage when your muscles ached. A flavorful, well-balanced bite took Gabriella to pleasure-filled heights like nothing she’d ever known. The only thing better was the knowledge that she was the one who’d prepared the dish.
Tonight, that was her happy reality.
She sat back in her chair, alone in her cottage, and enjoyed the payoff. The chicken scaloppine she’d whipped up practically fell off the fork, accentuated by the richness of the sauce composed of wine, lemon, butter, and her own little addition of grilled pancetta. “I like you very much,” she said to her next forkful. “Near perfection.” Another bite. “You’re going in the book, too. That’s how special you are.” Gabriella paused her meal and made her way to the drawer where she kept her cooking notes. She found the scaloppine page and jotted the details of the slight adjustment she’d made to her sauce, upping the wine quotient and dimming the butter. The results had yielded an amazing flavor balance that didn’t grow too rich the more you ate, which, in her experience, tended to end a good meal early. She sipped the crisp Tangle Valley chardonnay, made just yards away from where she sat. Gabriella had been in her job as resident chef of Tangle Valley for eight months now, and though it had been a bold move to leap from upstate New York and a more urban existence to a small wine town in Oregon, the decision had been good for her soul.
The town of Whisper Wall was quaint beyond all measure and had taken Gabriella back to basics, giving her the space to create her food, breathe all the fresh air, and enjoy a slower pace. She’d not been happy in the months leading up to Joey’s job offer. Her life had been riddled with work drama, romances that never really went anywhere, and the uncomfortable stress from both. Her brain had been in overdrive, and it felt like she was losing valuable years to the grind. But ever since she’d arrived in town, she’d felt herself slowly begin to relax, and that had been much needed. She felt like a different human being now, a focused one ready to achieve her goals in both work and personal fulfillment.
Two knocks, then a voice interrupted her flow. “Excuse me, chef person. What smells amazing in here?”
She grinned, recognizing Joey’s voice. “That would be chicken scaloppine with a side of lemon butter spaghetti that has already knocked my socks off.”
“You’re sockless?”
“That’s what I’m saying. This food steals socks, and I’m not even ashamed to gloat about it.”
“Wait.” Joey frowned. “How did you do this so quickly?” She pointed in near accusation toward the open kitchen and the pots and pans on the stove. “I saw you close down Jolene less than an hour ago, and now you’ve