Page 12 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

Last week I was madder than a wet hen at this man.

And now I’m sitting alone with him in my shop allowing him to pry utensils out of my hands and serve me Italian.

He continues to serve me portions from each container but the dessert, completely oblivious to the overthinking going on inside my head.

“So,” I say around a bite of salad. “The rules.”

Dustin looks up at me through his lashes, his fork poised in front of his lips. A lock of his sun-bleached hair flops forward.

“You like rules, huh?”

“We need them.”

I don’t give any explanation as to why they’re so essential and he doesn’t ask me to. I appreciate the easy way he flows along with my current discombobulated state.

Maybe Syd’s right. I really should get out more.

“Okay … so, these rules of yours …” He’s amused—mocking me, but not in a way that makes me hate it.

“Of ours,” I correct him.

“Ours. Yeah. Okay. So? What do you have in mind?”

I take a bite of pasta. It’s delicious. I chew and Dustin watches me. The spotlight he shines on me should feel uncomfortable. Instead, I’m an unfamiliar combination of relaxed and jittery.

I swallow and say, “Well, you know the judges made the rule that the contestants need to be partners. So, we’re supposedly dating.”

He wags his eyebrows like a seventh grader talking about cooties.

I roll my eyes like my former self around the same age.

“Are you going to take this seriously?” I ask.

“I am. Sorry. I really am. I’m at your service. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve literally never seen one.”

“Well, that makes the competition light work for me, doesn’t it?” He chuckles. Then all teasing leaves his expression. His eyes are warm, his tone careful. “I’m taking it seriously. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you . Those words. Full of promises.

“Okay,” I say. “First of all, touching.”

Dustin starts to wag his brows again and visibly stops himself. He takes a bite of his food. “Man, this is good. I mean, really good.”

I smile. His appraisal feels like a win. Like Waterford has something that makes a California boy smile and boast about local finds.

“You were saying, ‘touching,’” he reminds me.

“Yes. Let’s go with none.” I take a bite of salad.

“None? Like, I never touch you and you never touch me?”

I nod, chewing more of the fettucini.

“That’s not a good plan,” he says. “No offense, but if we were dating, I’d be touching you.”

I fight the blush threatening to climb up my neck and fill my cheeks.

“I mean …” I clear my throat. “No touching extra. No extra touching. No unnecessary touching. Mostly not touching unless needed.”

“Got it,” he says. “No unnecessary touching.”

“Okay. And that goes for kisses, especially.”

“No kisses.”

“Right. It’s a baking contest. People aren’t kissing. They’re baking.”

“Okay. Got it. Anything else?”

“No feelings. Not that we would catch feelings or feel anything or … you know. It’s probably just safer to say this up front. We are faking. We aren’t dating. And we won’t ever, so we need to just put that out there and move on.”

“Okay. Moving on.”

He concedes so easily I’m almost offended.

Is it such a far-fetched idea that one of us could catch feelings?

We’ll be working together a lot—spending a pretty decent chunk of time together.

We have to stay in a residence on the property the whole time the show is filming.

It could happen. We could have feelings.

He could, at least. Doesn’t he think he could?

Well, that doesn’t matter. It can’t happen. So, I guess it’s good that he agrees.

“Um. Also, we aren’t allowed to bring recipes or phones onto the set. Will that be okay with your job?”

“I already talked to David—you know, our captain—about it. He’s going to adjust the schedule to give me time off once you and I know all the details of the contest. I didn’t tell him about you needing an actual partner …

like the romance side of what we’re doing.

I just told him you were entering a really big baking contest and you needed my help to enter. He said we’d make it work.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Those guys at the station love you, all of them, and it’s not just because you have the best donuts in town.”

The compliments seem to flow from him as easily as butter melting on a warm biscuit.

“Okay. Well … good. I’m glad you have David’s support.

Speaking of which, the camera crew from the show may want to set up a mock visit at the station.

They love doing behind the scenes footage of contestants.

They’ll be monitoring us during times we’re not on set to make sure I’m not giving you baking lessons or breaking any other rules.

That’s why we’ll be staying in designated housing until we’ve finished filming all the episodes except the live finale. ”

I set my fork on my plate and look across the table into Dustin’s eyes. He seems unfazed.

“Are you sure about this?” I double check. “I’m asking a lot of you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“No. Yes … I don’t know.”

“I’m game if you are, Emberleigh. But I’m only doing this to help you out. If you want to call it off, no harm, no foul.”

Emberleigh . The way he says my name—like it matters. Like I matter. It scrambles my thoughts and steadies me all at once.

“Okay. Yes. I’m game,” I tell him. “Prepare yourself. I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from, but around here, people will talk.

The idea of us dating will become the hottest topic in town.

Trust me. So, get ready for all the teasing at the station, the questions from townspeople, and the stories. ”

“The stories?”

“About me. You’re about to hear my life story, only in sound bites, and not all of them are accurate. In fact, don’t believe even half of what they tell you.”

“So we’re pulling this farce off here in town too?” he asks.

“I can’t see how we’d ever go on public television and pretend to be a couple and then go on in our usual lives as if we’re only …” What are we? Friends? Acquaintances?

“Friends?” he asks.

“Yes,” I concede. “Friends.”

“So, we’re friends?” Dustin smiles widely.

“Yes. I’d say we’re friends.” The least I can do is call him a friend. After all, he’s really going out of his way to help me right now.

Dustin shakes his head and lowers it as he does. When his eyes meet mine again, he says, “That’s all I wanted. Just a chance with you—a chance to prove to you I’m not such a manhandling oaf after all.”

“Well …” I smile at him. It might be my first full smile of the night. “Mission accomplished.”