“Yes, sir.”
“What did she make?” He tilted his head.
“Pear sea salt.”
“Pear sea salt was not among the ones you sent me.” Mr. Lexington’s hands waved in the air.
Gavin glanced around the area to make sure no outside observers were privy to their conversation. “No, sir, it wasn’t. She did talk about having several recipes at the ready. She must not have put them all in the box,” Gavin said the words, but he wasn’t sure he believed them. Things weren’t adding up.
“We will not use those recipes any longer. We will stick to Margaret Ann’s and the secret ingredient.”
“Yes, sir.” Gavin straightened his posture. “Anything else, sir?”
“Hold steady.” Mr. Lexington paused. “For now, anyway.” He turned in a huff and headed for the main lobby.
Gavin stood still as Mr. Lexington strutted away.
What is going on? This doesn’t feel right.
He was good at his job. Weird instances like this didn’t happen…not to him. Someone knew. This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone kept interfering…and he really couldn’t shake the feeling of that person being Sarah.
Sarah, the woman he wanted to be with every waking moment.
Why?
Frustration enveloped him and he looked down at the royal-toned carpet. He was angry he allowed himself to develop feelings for Sarah and the fact that she stirred something in him. He wasn’t the guy who wanted to settle down…not anymore. He’s the guy who loves ’em and leaves ’em. Happily ever afters weren’t him.
I really don’t like this. I need to get back to business. I’ve got to find out who’s screwing with me.
Chapter Nine: A Kick at the End
Gavin surveyed Sarah while she answered the reporter’s question with effortless grace. With her easy smile and focused attention, she appeared inviting.
No wonder people like her.
There was a spark about her, an irresistible quality she possessed he couldn’t put his finger on.
Don’t be fooled, Ms. Reporter, she can lie with the best of ’em.
He shifted in his chair. Women were the worst—most of them could lie without even batting an eye.
The second cookie, blueberry carrot, they produced as effortlessly as the first in this morning’s timed bake-off. Sarah took control, whipping the batter and tasting it to perfection, then lined up thirteen perfect cookies on the Crazy for Cake tray. He’d assisted her the way he had the day before. They made an efficient team and she continued to make an apron a sexy garment with her hair pulled back and focused demeanor.
He’d also observed how she took interest, with minutes to spare, on Pies, Oh My!’s progression. They weren’t as disheveled the second go-around. Margaret Ann scrutinized her presentation with a satisfied smile, but Gavin couldn’t decide if that made him happy. However, their success certainly made Sarah mad. She became quiet and disappeared when they finished the round.
When she wasn’t around, he’d seized the opportunity to look through her suitcase and bags. He hadn’t found anything that screamed,
Hey, I’m the one screwing with you…on so many, many levels.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t ignore the pit in the bottom of his stomach. He knew his suspicions to be correct, even if he couldn’t prove them. What made his reservations worse? He didn’t know if he wanted to do anything to stop the train wreck that was becoming the Pies Oh My! team. His lack of sleep didn’t help matters either. He’d been sleeping on the floor since their night of passion. Normally, he’d sleep well on a hard surface, but knowing Sarah was on the bed, mere inches from his finger tips, kept his mind from quieting.
“What makes you so successful in this competition?” the round, black-haired woman asked.
Sarah smiled wide and gazed at Gavin before turning back to answer the reporter. “I’m competitive.”
“That could be said of all the teams in the Trio Trifecta. What sets you apart?” The reporter glanced at her notebook.
“You misunderstood.” Sarah sat straight and fixed her gaze onto the reporter. “I am extremely talented at what I do. I practice and perfect. I eat, sleep, and breathe baking, and I will let nothing or no one get in the way of winning.” She shifted to look at Gavin.
A chill started at his head and crept down to his toes.
“
No one
.”
He squinted and saw a glint in her eyes. The confirmation he searched for earlier. She
was
involved.
You’ve been screwing with my assignment…but how?
Gavin’s senses flooded with emotions that he felt to his core. The assignment wasn’t unfolding as planned which angered him. His reputation balanced on the line and some woman could make him look like a fool. The tips of his fingers tightened around the arms of his chair. He’d been played. His emotions scattered every which way—mad, scared, and sad. Nothing with Sarah had been real. None of it. He finally settled on relief. She knew what he’d been doing. He wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes and tell her he’d been lying this entire time.
Would I have ever told her?
She had her revenge and a chance of winning…he almost smiled. But he couldn’t. A lump sat firmly in his throat. A big sad lump quietly whispered how everything was a lie and how after the competition, he’d never see Sarah again. Never. All he could do right now? Stare and bury his feelings.
The reporter let out a nervous laugh and they simultaneously faced her. “I hear through the grapevine you are leading the pack this year. Sounds like you are on your way to a perfect double batch.”
Sarah’s disposition changed, and she morphed back into cheery Sarah with a wide smile. “That would be sweet.”
****
Sarah hit her stride. The third cookie, cherry lime chili, rocked. So much so, she mixed up one batch and knew it would be the only one she’d have to make. She slid the pan in the oven and helped Gavin clean up.
I’m so freaking good.
What she’d say in her acceptance speech, how she’d call Fi the minute she stepped off of the stage, and what they’d do with the prize money all consumed her thoughts as she reached to pull out the finished batch.
“Ah!” she screamed, dropped the tray, and watched in horror as her perfect cookies fell to the ground. “No!”
“What happened?” Gavin rushed to her side and placed his hand on her lower back.
Dammit, this hurts.
“I grabbed the tray with my bare hand.” She wanted to cry at the stabbing pain and the destroyed cookies.
How could I be so dumb?
She blinked back tears. Everything was ruined.
“It’s okay. Let’s get your hand under cold water.”
His voice held such a caring tone that she almost gave in to the tears as he ushered her to their station sink and ran the cold water, putting her hand under.
He leaned in to inspect the damage of the burn. He slid his gaze up from his hunkered position and frowned. “The burn is serious. We need to get one of their medics over here.”
“No.” Sarah vehemently shook her head as she looked into his beautiful eyes. She bit her lower lip to take her focus off the pain in her hand. She could feel the severity of the burn. “I won’t get another batch done in time.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Sarah. These are bad blisters.” He shook his head. “You really took hold of the pan.”
She pursed her lips and almost had an argument formed in her head for not calling the medics.
“Tell me what to mix. I’ll do it.” He seized a bowl close by and started filling it with water, bent down to open the mini fridge and came up with two handfuls of ice. The cold mix nearly overflowed as he stuck her hand in the freezing water. “We’ll get the cookies done.” His gaze searched hers. “
Then
we’ll call the medics.”
He cared for her with the tenderness and concentration he’d had when he’d knocked her over on the pier. Suddenly, her world was backwards and falling apart.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
“I…”
Can I say no? I won’t win if I don’t give them a third cookie. Could this be part of his plan to make sure I don’t win?
Her reasoning was flawed—he certainly hadn’t made her grab the pan bare-handed.
“Sarah.” He placed his hands on the outside of her shoulders.
She weighed her options—win or lose.
Why can’t I just take his help?
“Let me help you. Please.” He brushed his lips over hers.
The connection hung on long enough to ping the lust for him hiding just below her surface. She melted, all the way to her toes, then pulled back and searched his soul. “Okay.”
Gavin’s eyes creased at the edges and he let his hands travel all the way down her arms, before he turned to gather a mixing bowl and whisk.
His touch caused a chain reaction of tingles. She told him the ingredients, the order in which to add them, and she watched as he moved around the kitchen with an acumen she didn’t know he possessed. A glimmer of hope at winning the contest surfaced as she stood, helpless, with her hand in ice water.
Where’d he learn these techniques?
She tested the batter to make sure it had the correct balance between sweet cherries and chili kick before giving her approval for cookies to be scooped out.
With a grin, he put the first tray into the oven and then rapidly mixed another batch.
The first tray timer chimed just as he finished readying the second tray.
In anticipation of tasting his first attempt, Sarah held her breath.
Please be good. Please be right.
He shoveled the cookies onto a cooling rack and picked up one, bouncing the hot treat between his hands, and walked to where she stood. He halved the circle and handed her one side.
Together, they stood and chewed in silence.
This is delicious.
The nutty cherry flavor mixed with the heat of the chili perfectly. The taste wasn’t overwhelming and left her wanting another.
“Perfect.”
“Indeed.” Gavin popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “Quite a kick at the end.”
Sarah smiled. “Indeed.” Her cookies tasted as delicious as Gavin looked, and she was satisfied with both at the moment.
The oven timer sounded, and Gavin moved the second tray of cookies onto the cooling rack.
“Plate the prettiest ones.” Sarah couldn’t see so she lifted the bowl with her ice water and walked to his side.
“I am.” He slid a sideways glance.
Mmm…mmm.
Sarah felt giddy. Gavin affected her…he raised feelings in her she liked and hadn’t had in a long time. Feelings he’d take with him when he left, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And he would go away. Right after the competition finished, he would leave her.
“Done.” He proudly displayed the thirteen, perfectly round red-tinted cookies. “Now.” He motioned for a contest official. “You need treatment.”
“Yeah.” Her hand. For a moment, she’d forgotten about the throbbing. Now she remembered…and it stung.
Chapter Ten: Just Stop It
The reception hall dazzled with sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a mix of soft blue tablecloths. Gavin looked smashing in a fierce charcoal suit. No tie. Collar slightly open.
Simple… classy…hot.
Sarah complemented his style well. She donned a strapless cream-colored, floor-length gown with gold streaks cascading down until they filled the bottom of her dress. Under different circumstances, they might not have made it out of their room.
They glided across the hall to their assigned table. She allowed Gavin to rest his hand on the small of her back, unwilling to let her anger toward him ruin her night. She took a deep breath and let herself feel his hand on her…it burned into her dress and made her feel sexy as hell. She was winning everything tonight…first place and their game. Then, she’d tell Gavin she got the best of him, too. Her last thought stirred irritation when it shouldn’t have. She wasn’t the one that chose their game.
“This is us.” Gavin motioned to a table centered with the podium. “You look stunning tonight,” he whispered as he pulled out a chair.
The moment his breath grazed her skin, she felt her heart start to race. Glad to take a seat, she set her clutch on the table next to her plate. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” She kept her tone distant as the actions of the past few days assaulted her mind.
When they call my name tonight, all will have been worth it. I’m beating him at his own game. Because of men like him, I don’t believe in Prince Charming. They’re all full of bull.
“I’m getting a drink, do you want one?” He spied the bar.
“That’d be great, a Cosmopolitan please.” Sarah glared at Gavin’s back as he made his way over to the bar.
I can’t believe I have to sit through this whole reception next to him and act like nothing happened.
She looked down at her still-bandaged hand.
He was wonderful, though, when I burnt my hand.
When she’d really needed him, she’d watched in amazement when he’d stepped up…after, of course, he’d betrayed her. She exhaled hard and reached for her clutch.
Don’t fall for him…the whole rescue scene was just for show.
The message light blinked on her phone. Fiona’s text read,
So proud of you, Sar! You got this! XO.