Page 20 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)

thirteen

With only minutes to go until the first challenge, Aubrey was crammed into the kitchen, hustling alongside Liam while they prepped portions of the first course. They hadn’t seen each other since their kiss. If there was any awkwardness on his end, she didn’t pick up on it.

She’d lose precious seconds whenever he brushed against her because her mind went blank. It would’ve been a brilliant tactic for him to win, but she caught him nearly lobbing the end of his fingertip off when she’d pressed against him on her way to the refrigerator.

They were both smitten, and someone would pick up on it sooner or later.

Someone like Gary, who observed them with a curious expression.

“You two seem to work well together. Something I wouldn’t have expected a week ago.”

“What choice do we have?” Liam asked. “You won’t let us use our kitchens. I keep expecting a camera crew to show up and you to tell us you’re shopping a television pilot.”

Aubrey snickered into her shoulder .

“That’s a good idea. Although it would be a challenge even for a ringmaster such as myself,” Gary said. “Who knows, if this real estate shortage keeps up, I’ll consider it!”

They both laughed. What else could they do?

Gary clapped his hands together. “Ben will be here to take photos for the paper and the city’s social media platforms. My guests will be arriving shortly.

As you know, they’ll fill out comment cards for each course, marking their favorite dish.

Whoever crafts the dish with the most votes wins.

I will have the votes tallied, and we’ll announce the winner tomorrow.

Then we’ll discuss the second challenge.

If you thought this one was a doozy, wait! ” Gary’s laugh was sharp.

Aubrey’s pulse shot to her throat. This was happening. No matter how Liam made her feel, she wanted to win.

“I’ll expect the first course in twenty-five minutes sharp,” Gary said.

He turned toward the dining room, where the staff he’d hired for the night were bustling to get the linens and floral arrangements to his liking.

“Shit. I forgot the plates for the first course . I’ll be right back.” Aubrey cut out of the kitchen and jogged through the alley to Petit Chou.

She ran into Tom on her way into the kitchen as he made his way to the vacant space.

“You’re about to ace this, kiddo,” he called as he passed.

“From your lips to God’s ears!”

She glanced around Petit Chou, momentarily forgetting what she’d come for. The shop was shuttered for the day, but the sweet aroma of the day’s wares still lingered behind. She inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey.”

She whipped around. Liam stood in the doorway, a six-foot-something dreamboat, with his fresh chef’s whites and his wild, dark hair slicked back and out of his face.

The three-year-long spell hadn’t been broken by getting to know him more.

If anything, she teetered dangerously toward falling for Liam, which should terrify her.

But she didn’t allow those thoughts to linger.

“What are you doing?—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he’d tugged on her wrist and pulled her into an embrace. She let out an involuntary giggle because how was this real life?

“I’ve gotta kiss you again, or I swear I’m going to burn off my eyebrows from the distraction of having you so close.” His arm looped around her neck before he dropped a hand to rub the small of her back. “Is that okay?”

She relaxed in his arms. “You’re saying I shouldn’t kiss you so I can win? I mean, because I want to win.”

God, what was she doing? Yet her body did its own thing again, her hands falling on his chest, disregarding every rational thought.

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Only if you’re cruel.” He leaned in closer, his warm breath on her neck making her pulse stutter. “I don’t think you are.”

“Luckily for you, I’m not.” She wrapped her arms around him.

His expression softened. “I’m tired of discussing why we shouldn’t do this. Instead, let’s focus on why we should.”

She found herself momentarily lost in those dark-brown eyes. After pining for him for so long, she longed for this.

She stood on her tiptoes and brought her mouth against his. He tugged her closer, not allowing any space between them as they kissed. He looped an arm around her waist, lifting her off her feet.

An alarm trilled from his phone, and he returned her to solid ground. “Time to return to the battlefield. ”

He rushed out. A burst of laughter emerged from her before she sliced a hand through the air. It was time to put her game face on.

“What kind of fuckery is this?” Damon peered out from the kitchen into the dining room, where Gary’s guests had begun to assemble. Half the thirty-odd people mingling about wore elaborate hats and masks, shielding part if not all their faces.

Liam had seen some crazy shit in his years of working in restaurants, but nothing like this.

“It’s the Crazy Eights Club,” Tom said. “I should have known he would invite them.”

Everyone turned to face him.

“You say that as simply as if you’re reporting the weather. What the hell is the Crazy Eights Club?” Liam asked.

“It’s an elite club out of DC,” Tom said. “You must know Gary or another founding member to be considered for membership. They do crazy shit for fun. Kind of like making two chefs run around for their entertainment.”

“Then he wasn’t lying about our guests being influential,” Liam glanced at Aubrey, who shared his dubious expression.

“You’d have thought he’d invite some of the members of the chamber of commerce,” Damon said.

“This is his contest, remember?” Liam said. “Ben’s the only outsider they let in, and they made him leave before all this weirdness started.”

“Enough talk, let’s start getting the food out.” Aubrey placed the last roll in the basket, pausing to turn them over so they all looked perfect. Liam took the salad course .

“So, you’re saying this already weird situation is about to get weirder?” Liam asked.

“You should know Gary enough to know the answer to that question.” Tom waggled his fingers.

They didn’t have much time to remark on the strangeness of the situation as they cranked out course after course. Judging by the clean plates returning to the kitchen, the food had gone over well.

Once the guests were onto the final course, Liam and Aubrey stood back and watched the diners tuck into the cheeses he’d picked as the soufflés began to emerge from the kitchen. It was just the two of them now, with Damon and Tom having left.

“What do you think?” Liam gestured at the table.

“Their masks make it kind of hard to tell what they’re thinking.”

Liam thought the same, and it made him nervous. He hoped they were taking their role in this contest as seriously as they should.

“Judging by how that lady with the corset and the swan mask is making eyes at the guy in the top hat and harlequin mask, I don’t think they’re thinking much on the food.” Aubrey cocked her head toward the couple in question.

Gary stood and began handing out the remaining comment cards. “Now, we must remember why we’re here. Everyone, finish off your meals. Once the comment cards are completed, the real fun can begin.”

They began digging into the soufflés. Gary walked over to where Aubrey and Liam stood.

Someone turned on a stereo, bringing a loud marimba beat into the space. “You two are excused. I’ll ensure all the cards are filled out and reviewed.”

Okay, now it felt like they’d landed halfway through a David Lynch film.

“But we need to clean up,” Liam protested.

“It’ll be there in the morning. Thank you for a fine meal. Now, shoo.” Gary flicked a hand to the rear entrance.

They glanced at each other and scurried out the door into the alley. Once out of earshot, they burst into laughter.

“What the hell was that? The beginning of an art film, or maybe an orgy? No judgments, but I’d rather it not be in the space one of us will be getting at the end of this.”

“You never know with Gary,” Aubrey said.

They both collapsed against one another, and the stress of the evening evaporated.

“So,” he said, a sly smile taking over his face, “want to come up for some coffee?”

Aubrey gave his arm a good-natured whack. “Coffee, yeah, right.”

“Hey, I have excellent Italian coffee. Ma brought it back from her last trip to the homeland.”

When Aubrey only continued to stare at him skeptically, he shrugged. “Okay, maybe not coffee, but to talk? I respect your definition of ‘soon’ and know you’re driving the boat here.”

She looked up at him. “I can’t stay long.”

“I know, you rise with the sun. Come on.”

As Aubrey tugged off her coat, Liam watched her out of the corner of his eye. Teddy demanded most of his attention. The old man was hungry, so Liam dumped his food on a plate. Teddy tore in, and Liam absently patted his backside .

“So, one challenge down. Now shit is getting real,” Aubrey said. “What are you gonna do if you lose?”

“I honestly don’t know. We can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing. It’s impossible to grow where we’re at. And since no large commercial space is available in the city… I’ve been researching my options.”

Aubrey nodded. “Of course, that makes sense. Would you move elsewhere when your lease is up? Like to DC?”

“Would you?”

Teddy finished his plate and hopped off the counter. Liam reached for a rag to wipe down the counter and his plate.

“It would take an excellent opportunity to get me to leave. Daphne’s in school here, and her dad’s here, for better or worse. Besides, Petit Chou would be just another patisserie in the big city—even if I did have the cash to finance a move.”

“Is your business doing okay, financially?” Liam asked.

She exhaled. “I mean, are any of us? I opened Petit Chou because I loved the creative control and was tired of working for someone else. Not to get rich.”

She turned toward the window. Happy Endings’ neon sign blinked from red to blue.

“I didn’t mean to drop a turd into the pool with that line of conversation.”

“You’re charming, even when you’re making poop references. You should teach a course.”

“Hey, that’s a backup plan if I lose.”

She gazed up at him, a soft smile on her lips, as he cupped her chin.

“Look, if we’re going to do”—he gestured with his free hand—“whatever this is, we should be of the understanding that we’ll still be okay, even if we lose.”

“Do you mean personally or professionally? ”

He settled his large frame onto the ottoman. “Both. I want to win?—”

She cut him off. “So do I.”

“Okay, we’ve established that.” He leaned forward so their knees touched. “No hard feelings, right? Either way? Win, lose, or draw?”

“There can’t exactly be a draw. But hey, isn’t your brother an investor in Elevation? It’s what he does, right?”

“Yeah, although he’s already tied up with some nightmare chicken restaurant. I don’t want to risk either mine or Brandon’s future unnecessarily.”

“That makes sense. I can assure you, no matter what happens, I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She sighed. “Damn, it’s later than I thought. I should get home. I need to be at the shop by six, and it’s already nearly eleven.”

Liam and Teddy trailed behind her as she made her way to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. When the winner is announced.” She slipped on her coat. “Remember your ‘no hard feelings’ line, huh?”

He caught her by the elbow and spun her around, so they faced one another. She braced herself against his chest. “You know that phrase is a double entendre if ever there was one.”

Aubrey’s eyes were as round as dinner plates. “I’d never thought about that, but yeah, it is.” She managed a breathy laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“It’s kinda impossible when you’re around.” Before she could utter another word, he kissed her. A perfectly perfunctory kiss. It was meant to end the night, not act as an invitation to the bedroom.

She had to get out of here if she didn’t want to be a total zombie come the morning.

“Have a good night. ”

“I can promise it won’t be half as good as it would have been if you’d stayed. I’m a patient man. I can bide my time.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. “Damn your smooth tactics; you had me half outta my bra there for a second.”

“I will, soon enough.” He gently shoved her toward the door and closed it swiftly behind her.