Page 15 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)
That would have been an exciting battle tactic. Aubrey wasn’t one to play dirty. “Why not find out?”
Aubrey smiled as he took a bite. She’d never tire of the crunchy, tearing sound pastry made as it was being devoured.
She also found the act of him chewing oddly sexy, so instead of making it weird, she left Liam to return to the kitchen to see if her next treat was ready.
The follow-up pastry was slightly sweeter, a kouign-amann.
When Aubrey returned with the golden-brown Breton pastry, Liam was licking his finger to dab up every last bit of Danish from the plate.
Pow! Just like that, her insides turned around on themselves.
Fresh and center in her mind was that damned eggplant hammock image again, now somehow even more zoomed in.
She coughed into her shoulder. “You liked it?”
“That’s one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth. So buttery, and how do you get the pastry to do that?”
She wanted to snicker or make a crass joke. Instead, she said, “Really? ”
He leaned his large frame back in the chair. “You could make a variation to go with the cheese plate. That pastry is insane.”
She wasn’t the best at accepting compliments, so she set the kouign-amann in front of him after a quick thanks. “This is a little sweeter. Different kind of pastry, too. It’s yeasted.”
Again, he touched the pastry like a lover; he was on his way to pleasuring. She winced.
She slipped into the kitchen because she needed to get her shit together. Trying to ignore the signals her brain sent her, like, OMG, your crush is sitting in YOUR patisserie, eating YOUR FOOD.
How old was she again? She packed extra pastries for Liam to take to his kitchen crew to occupy her racing mind.
She’d always kept him at arm’s length because it was easier to keep up the illusion if she didn’t know him.
Most of the time, the sparkle faded once you pulled your crush down from their pedestal.
They were a real person, with flaws like anyone else.
Now that she’d started to peel back Liam’s layers, she realized he wasn’t some hot chef asshole.
Funny how he’d admitted the same thing to her. Maybe they were just a pair of onions.
She had to keep her head in the goddamned game. It may be time to switch from war documentaries to sports movies.
They could have their little back-and-forth.
They may even enjoy each other’s company a little.
At the end of this, this closeness would be a thing of the past. They could return to being strangers.
Because they would, wouldn’t they? Once the winner was decided, they would have no real reason to talk, other than the occasional good morning or how about this weather, huh?
“Does he like them?” Daphne’s voice yanked Aubrey out of her thoughts .
She turned to find her daughter slipping fresh baguettes into pink bakery bags.
“Anyone who doesn’t like what Aubs makes is lacking in taste buds or common sense,” Leroy said.
Her laugh tumbled out. “Aww, you’re getting that raise you requested, Leroy.”
His response was a half-hearted roll of the eyes. “That’s not why I said that, and you know it. You’re the best.” He tapped Daphne on the head. “Come on, little bug, help me stock the front case.”
Her little girl, bread stacked in her arms so high she could hardly see in front of her, followed Leroy.
Before the doors closed, Liam entered the kitchen with an empty plate in hand. “A little sweeter than the first. I still liked it. It was creamy, with an interesting texture.”
His presence in the kitchen momentarily took her back.
He coughed, clearly uncomfortable that she hadn’t replied. “By like, I mean love. What’s next?”
Samantha and Ella burst through the back door. They stopped their rapid-fire Spanish conversation and stared at Liam.
“What are you doing here, hot chef?” Ella asked.
“He and Aubrey are in that competition,” Samantha answered.
Both girls puckered their lips, and Samantha fluffed her dark locks. They were both beautiful girly girls, totally Liam’s type. Probably. Not that they would come within a hundred feet of him if they knew about Aubrey’s feelings for him. But they didn’t, so she couldn’t blame them for having a go.
He kept his gaze on Aubrey. “What’s my final course?”
Samantha and Ella exchanged a glance before heading out to the front of the store to prepare for opening .
“I’m going to give that to you later. You said you wanted to finalize the menu for Monday’s dinner, right?”
She’d see him tonight and again on Sunday and Monday. Hopefully, the second challenge wouldn’t require so much face-to-face, because she didn’t know how she’d handle it. She’d need to read Sun Tzu’s The Art of War to have any chance of success.
He cocked an eyebrow. “A surprise? I may have to bring one of my own, then.”
“Oh, you’re gonna try to one-up me again, huh?” She pulled down baker’s twine from a roll above the table and wrapped up the box for Liam’s crew.
“This isn’t the One Up Olympics. But hey, I wanted to apologize for what I said before, about not taking your work seriously. Just because I don’t care for sweets, I discounted you. I was wrong, and I apologize for that.”
She exhaled. Where the fuck was this coming from? Blood rushed through her ears.
She had no idea how to respond to that statement, so she handed over the box. “For your guys.” She paused a beat. “And thanks.”
As their fingers touched, her body pulsed with desire. Keeping a straight face was an Oscar-worthy feat.
“Aw, thanks. I’m gonna hate it when I win and you go back to disliking me from a distance. You didn’t give me a straight answer when I asked why you did that, by the way.”
“Ah, there’s that bravado,” Aubrey said.
Liam’s gaze stayed on her. Clearly, he was expecting her to say more. But that wasn’t going to happen. Because that would be awkward, she could barely take a compliment from the man without going into borderline cardiac arrest; how could she manage anything resembling romance ?
“You said yourself I’m good at what I do. I also don’t rely on my face to get butts into seats.”
Oh, there was that anger settling in over those handsome features. His eyes were a storm cloud, and his lips curled into a scowl. “Did you already forget your compliments about my food?”
She chuckled. “I give as good as I get, Liam. Don’t you know shit-talking is part of our profession? Don’t get your boxers in a twist.”
His expression softened. “Oh.”
“You’re not used to women talking back to you, huh?”
“I have two sisters and an Italian mother. Of course, I’m used to it.” He flicked his head to get his hair out of his eyes. And for half a second, her guard dropped, and she wondered what it would be like to push his hair free of his face. To hold his gaze before kissing him.
The call was coming from inside the house. She had to get a hold of her crush-addled brain before she did something stupid.
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “You know what I mean. Most women are probably thrilled if you deigned to belch in their presence.”
He didn’t laugh at her joke. “You’d never be thrilled to be around me. Is that what you’re saying?”
She tried to teach her daughter that lying should be avoided whenever possible. Unfortunately, Aubrey needed to be a hypocrite to win. She couldn’t look him in the eye and lie, so she pretended to tidy up the tabletop. “You got it.”
He said nothing for what felt like forever. “Good to know. I’ll see you in the space this afternoon, four sharp, if that time works?”
“It does, but thanks for asking.”
By the time she’d turned around, he’d left.