Page 21 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)

fourteen

Aubrey tapped her phone screen. Only four minutes had passed since she’d last checked.

Typically, she had no time for lollygagging.

Except they were amid the late morning lull.

Business tended to pick up around eleven when people came in for the day’s lunch special.

From about nine thirty until then, the pace slowed down some.

They were also (temporarily) caught up on orders.

The meeting with Gary wasn’t until two thirty, which seemed like years from now.

With a grunt, she pushed her phone aside.

“Waiting for a text or something?” Tom asked.

She hadn’t said much about whatever she and Liam were doing to anyone, not even Tom. She didn’t want to jinx it. When a text came through, she jumped out of her skull.

She swiped for the phone as if it were a ticking time bomb. She sighed. It was one of the moms in Daphne’s class asking about the upcoming middle school fall festival.

“Ready to find out who won the first challenge. And what’s in store for the next round?”

Tom pulled a stool up to the side of the bench. “You sure that’s all there is? ”

An expert at reading Aubrey, he’d pick up on the most subtle clues. Poker face, engaged. “There’s nothing else—just nerves. I want to expand my brand.”

“There’s more than one path to success.”

She clenched her fists tightly. “You know how I can be.”

He traced his fingers along her forearm. “I do. Which is why I’m ever-so-gently going to ask if you’ve been taking care of yourself? Are you going to therapy? Taking your meds?”

She rounded on her best friend, ready to pounce on him for having the audacity to ask her such a question. Then she took in his concerned glance and relaxed. “Therapy no, meds yes. I’ll see if I can get an appointment with my therapist, but it might take a while.”

He looped an arm around her shoulders. “Good. If this stupid contest gets to be too much, fuck it. Let Liam have the prize. It’s not like we won’t figure out a way forward without it.”

How could she tell Tom she’d already grown attached to the idea of winning, but even more, to the idea of her and Liam?

She couldn’t. It all felt too new to discuss what could happen. What if it didn’t work out?

She put on her best smile. One so bright that Tom couldn’t see through it.

“You’re right. Now let me get my ass back to work. Idle hands and an idle mind are not a good thing.”

Promptly at two thirty, Gary walked into the vacant space with Liam trailing on his heels.

Her gaze went straight to Liam; he was on his phone, but he looked up and gave her a wink before he went back to typing.

She swallowed hard. Then she reminded herself she couldn’t lose her edge just because they’d kissed. She was a general with a war to win.

Then she had another slow-mo moment when his hair dropped over one eye. He raised his hand to push his hair aside, and their gazes locked. All the words in her mind morphed into Portuguese, English, and Danish. It was a damn good thing he didn’t use those looks for villainy.

“Alrighty then, why don’t we all have a seat?” Gary said.

She walked alongside Liam to one of the tables still set up from the previous night. The smug bastard managed to wink at her again in the half-second Gary’s back was turned. Her cheeks scorched with heat, and she spun away.

Gary’s chair screeched across the battered floor as he pulled it out.

“As much as I love the drama, I have another meeting to get to, so I’ll get right out with it.

” He tented his fingers. “It was as close as a lock of angel’s hair.

We reviewed the comment cards several times, but the answer was the same.

” He cleared his throat. “The winner of the first challenge, with the favorite dish of the evening being the lemon soufflé, is Aubrey.”

She leaned forward to catch herself on the side of the table.

Holy shit, maybe she could win this thing? “Oh man, I needed that.”

Liam’s hand on her back sent a jolt of electricity through her. She whirled around to face him.

“Good job, Aubs.” He thrust out his hand, and she shook it, not missing for a second the way he traced his thumb across the back of her hand.

Just that quick, her thoughts scrambled again, and it took a moment to remember what they’d been celebrating. “Thanks, Liam.”

“Ah, good sportsmanship. What a lovely sight. So, after the first challenge, Aubrey has three points to Liam’s two. So it’s still anyone’s game.” Gary tossed two key rings onto the table.

“That’s a hint at what the second challenge will be. Curious? ”

Liam reached for a key ring. Aubrey did the same, finding it unremarkable—a keychain advertising Gary’s real estate development firm and one large key.

“This is a truck key,” Liam said.

“Ding ding, we have a winner.” Gary gestured for them to follow along out the door. When they stepped outside, two food trucks rounded the corner, horns blaring.

Aubrey tried to keep a smile affixed to her lips. Liam’s business was made for a food truck. Hers…not so much. She’d be limited to what she could make beforehand since most didn’t have industrial ovens on board.

The trucks came to a stop in front of them. Both sported fresh white paint jobs.

Gary tapped the hood of the closest truck. “Madison Park. You know the food trucks park there in the afternoons?”

The park sat across the street from Port Fortune’s municipal building, so they had a lot of office clientele.

“Oh, you just want us to go to one place with the truck,” Liam said. “I figured you’d been watching too many food competition shows, and we’d have to race across the greater metropolitan area.”

“Very funny,” Gary said. “You’re not that far off from guessing my inspiration for this challenge.

This challenge is to consider your celebrity status in the region.

Part of the point of this contest is to increase tourist spending in the city.

Who has the bigger draw? Well, we’re about to find out. ”

“So, a popularity contest? Just super,” Aubrey muttered.

Gary continued speaking. “Next Tuesday afternoon, one week from today. From 11:00 to 2:30, you’ll each run a truck.

You’ll need to come up with two main dishes and two sides to serve.

The winner will be determined by who sells the most items. Each of your offerings will be priced the same.

So, you two should collaborate on your pricing to ensure it’s fair for both of you. ”

The drivers, two of Gary’s assistants, hopped out of the trucks.

“Ashley and Mary will handle all the ordering and ‘front of staff’ duties for each truck, so you two can focus on the food. That also leaves two impartial individuals in charge of tracking orders and dollars spent.”

“Just to keep things fair, Ashley is my little sister’s best friend,” Liam said.

Ashley let out an unprofessional snort. “I know you’re not insinuating I’d throw the contest in your favor?”

Liam blubbered a bit. “What? No. I just?—”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Liam. I was planning on working with Aubrey anyway.” Ashley punched his shoulder.

Liam narrowed his eyes at Ashley and muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear.

Gary cleared his throat. “Why don’t you have a look inside? I’m sorry, but I really must run. I’m intrigued by what you two will come up with!” Gary pulled his phone from his suit jacket pocket and marched down Sweet Briar.

Aubrey stepped into one of the food trucks before Liam could talk to her. Her victory was forgotten as she began poking around.

Standard-issue equipment—a grill, fridge, and minimal kitchen space. She leaned against the counter and tapped her forehead, willing ideas to come. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there when she felt a presence in the truck.

Her eyes snapped open, and she found Liam.

“He’s gotta keep things interesting, huh?” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Great job winning the first challenge. I mean that.”

She could tell he did mean it, which made her swoon. Again. He had to stop being so damned charming.

“I know you do, but I also know how much you want to win. That’s why we should keep it professional, right?”

“Of course. But the contest isn’t 24-7.”

She turned away from him because, otherwise, concentrating would have been impossible. “It looks like this challenge might even things out between us.”

And they’d be working separately this time, no need to collaborate except on setting prices.

“You have lunch specials at Petit Chou. You’ll be fine.” He braced a hand on the vent and peered down at her. “Tomorrow night, I should be off by eight. Do you want to make plans for then?”

Her to-do list unfurled inside her mind. She’d had the first challenge down. This one was more geared toward Liam, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t win.

“Hey, you okay?” Liam put a hand on her shoulder.

She ducked under his arm and made toward the door. “Yeah, just thinking about all the work I have to do. I’ll text you.”

Her mind swirled like a storm as she stepped into the late September afternoon.

Liam checked to see if Aubrey had texted him. She hadn’t, but that was fine—no problem at all.

He respected that. He wasn’t at the top of her priority list. Still, one text telling her she was on his mind couldn’t hurt.

Any ideas for your food truck yet?

It’d been an hour, and she’d either left him on read on purpose or was busy. What had gotten into him?

“That’s the fourth time I’ve caught you checking your phone,” Sasha said. “What gives?”

The two of them were at the farmer’s market bright and early. He wanted to pick up a few things for Wednesday’s lunch service, and Sasha needed a little cheering up after her fuckboy had shown his full ass.

“I’m waiting on a callback about something important.”

Sasha stopped in front of a booth handing out samples of cider doughnuts. After one bite, she bought the box. She popped it open immediately and began chowing down. She didn’t bother to offer Liam one for obvious reasons.