Oliver has only ever wanted to be a chef, but what happens when he meets Corvin, a rich mysterious man who only eats strictly Paleo, forcing Oliver to rethink every dish he's ever made?
When Oliver receives his acceptance into Cordon De Bleu Culinary Arts School in Chicago, he doesn't think there is anything more he'd ever want. Then he meets Corvin, a rich, handsome young man with a mysterious past. Unable to stop chasing after Corvin, Oliver jumps into the world of the Paleo diet with the intention of winning Corvin's heart. With painful looking scars on his body and a raw possessive need to keep Oliver his, Corvin has secret Oliver will do anything to discover. But what if the truth is something almond flour cupcakes and coconut ice cream can't fix?
I'd been walking while staring at the cupcakes with more fervor than I thought because I had initially missed him. Seated on one of the swings, wearing a dark blue sweater with a large hood pulled up, was a man. His legs were stretched out, his heels digging into the wood chips in front of him. His hands loosely hung around the silver chains. The urge to touch him, to graze the bare skin of his pale hand was overwhelming. I couldn't even imagine what was wrong with me. I couldn't move and the breaths I took were heavy and thick.
Still, there was a shaking feeling that crept underneath my shirt and snaked around my chest, constricting my airflow. I definitely didn't believe in love at first sight. But there was something...odd about the way he was sitting. About the way in which his fingers twirled around the chains gracefully, as though he were inhuman. I wasn't worried, in spite of his strange appearance and unearthly aura, but I wasn't sure why.
I'd met few men I'd been interested in, but this young man definitely caught my eye. I wanted him because he was so different than everything I'd had before.
And even though I couldn't see his face clearly, I felt like I knew him from somewhere.
Clara, of all people, flooded into my head with her babble. She'd told me that our father had believed in fate. That as far back to his great-grandparents they had believed in true love. Stupid ancestral belief...
"You drop these?" I asked.
"No, they're not mine," he answered nonchalantly.
I could hardly believe him, but the young man moved like he was a part of a film. When he raised his head, the hood still concealed most of his face, apart from pink parted lips. I could see his skin was pale and flawless. His jawline was defined and he was thin. I noticed the notebook at his feet, open and letting papers loose. "You sure?"
Hesitantly, I checked the notebook to make sure the papers weren't going to fall out. He shook his head and stood up, towering over me by a good six inches. He appeared lean, although most of his body was covered up so I couldn't see much.
When I looked up into his hood, I saw his dark blond hair, the curls at the bottom where his hair met his chin. It was shorter on one side.
"These are really good."
The young man's face broke slightly into a smile. "You can keep them then."
Gathering the papers to my chest, I tucked them inside of the notebook to ensure no harm would come to them. The stranger moved past me and all I could do was stare at his retreating, slender back. At the tall, stringy legs and the arms that didn't swing when he walked.
MLR Press- http://www.mlrbooks.com/ShowBook.php?book=AR_PALEO
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