Page 28 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

Emberleigh

No matter if you win or lose,

the most important thing in life

is to enjoy what you have.

~ Dong Dong

A member of the production team knocks on our door just after breakfast to tell us that each contestant remaining on the estate gets a phone call to someone back home today.

A member of the staff will stand next to us in the hallway to ensure we aren’t gathering recipe information or breaking our NDA on the call.

Dustin asks the staff, “Can Emberleigh be next to me while I call my family? They just love her.” The staff member agrees. Dustin dials his mom and she answers with a chorus of voices chiming in.

“Hey, everyone!” he announces, “I’m here with Emberleigh on a work trip.”

His family goes nuts talking over one another with excitement.

I can’t help but wonder why he brought me into the call. We’re not actually dating. Does his family know that?

We talk with them for fifteen minutes and then our time’s up.

“I love them,” I say after he ends the call.

“They’re an acquired taste.” Dustin’s smile gives him away. He’s crazy about his family.

Dustin gives me some privacy to call Syd. I tell him he can stay, but he insists it will be good for me to talk to my best friend without him around.

Based on our NDA, I can’t outright tell Syd that Vanessa’s here as a judge, but I can give her a hint. If she guesses, well, who am I to stop a woman from guessing?

The phone rings.

Syd answers mid-giggle. It’s the kind of laugh she and I share when we’re slap-happy from getting up too early or from working too hard. One of us says something ridiculous. We lose it and can’t regain our composure. She’s laughing like that … by herself? Maybe with our part-time help?

“Syd?”

“Yeah? Oh. Hi, Emberleigh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Of course. Why?”

“Were you laughing?”

“A little. It’s not a crime to laugh.”

“No. Of course not. It’s just … Are you alone?”

“Yes. Alone as ever. I just was … uh … looking at this meme. What’s up?”

A meme? Really?

“I get a free mid-week call and you’re it,” I explain.

“Wow. Thank you. I’m honored. You sure you don’t want to call Gran?”

“I called you. Unless you’re busy or something.”

“Nope. Totally not busy. I’m unbusy. The opposite of busy. Except work. Which is normal.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m not used to talking to you on the phone, I guess.” She seems to get a hold of herself because she adds, “I’m rooting for you.”

“Thank you. We’re still here at the contest. And so are other people. Bakers. You know.”

“I do know. It’s a baking contest. Hence, the bakers.”

I glance at the person supervising me like I’m a jailbird taking advantage of her one allotted phone call.

“Yeah. Well there are a lot of bakers here. You wouldn’t expect all of them.”

The supervisor raises one brow.

“I think you should expect them,” Syd says. “Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I am. In my one bed. With my boyfriend, of course.” I smile widely at the contest staff member.

“One bed! Em! What are you doing?”

“There are stories for another day.”

“You can’t just call and get all weird about bakers and then say there are stories for another day.”

“I have to save some things for later. But thanks for asking, Dustin is great.”

“I didn’t ask, but I bet he is.” Her voice drips with innuendo.

“Is Joleen carrying her weight?” I shift the subject to our part-timer.

“She is. She’s doing great. Everything is smooth. You’re missed, but we’re holding down the fort. Don’t you worry. Just focus on winning that contest.”

“I will. Thanks,” I say. “And how’s the other baker? The one who got the city council order?”

“Vanessa? Why on earth would you be asking about her?”

“Good. Good. I’m so glad. I always thought she needed a little getaway.”

Syd pauses. I wait for her to catch on. And then it clicks.

“Wait a minute!” Syd shouts. “Vanessa’s out of town. She’s not … No way! She can’t be!”

“Sometimes you don’t know what’s going to pop up. Keep an eye out,” I tell Syd.

“She popped up at the contest? Oh, girl. Do I need to drive out there and run interference? Wait. How did she enter? She doesn’t have a partner.”

“Well, you be the judge of that.” I give the supervisor a look of what I hope is pure innocence.

“A judge? She’s a freaking, flipping, frogging, flaming judge?”

“Yep,” I smile widely at the guy overseeing me. “All the flaming frogs you can imagine.”

“Girl. Well, hang in there. That woman. How does she finagle her way into everything?”

“There’s no telling. We’re just doing our best. Thanks for cheering me on.”

The phone is muffled for a moment. I think I hear Syd say, “Wait. Don’t go. I’ll be right there.”

“Syd, you said you’re alone.”

“Did I? Well, there’s a customer. Customers. Always them, you know.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask again.

“I’m totally fine!” She practically shouts. “Couldn’t be better. Honestly, this has been the best week. I mean, not the actual best week. It’s fine. A good week. One where I think of you returning all the time.” Her tone is so bright—too cheery. She suddenly says, “Tell Dustin I said hi.”

“I will.”

“Okay. Gotta go. Bye, Em.”

The line clicks before I even have a chance to say, “Bye, Syd.”

That was strange.

I stare at the phone like it has answers as to why Syd is acting so unusual lately. From the guarded way she responds to questions, to the way she rushed the conversation … something’s up. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not getting the whole story.

After everyone has made their phone calls home, we gather on set for today’s round of baking. This round is called Hearts on Display. We’re tasked with making a signature dessert that echoes back to the time we fell in love.

“Donuts,” Dustin says.

“What?”

“I fell in love with you over the blueberry-lemon donut.”

“You fell in love with the donut,” I correct him.

“Potato, Potahtoe,” he winks. “We need to do donuts.”

“Hmmm. You might be on to something.”

Dustin smiles. He’s quiet while I brainstorm.

After a few moments I say, “I’ve got it!”

The camera crew gives us our cue, Kamela comes on and addresses the future viewers, the countdown clocks start and we’re off and running, making lemon-blueberry beignets with lemon curd and blueberry compote for dipping.

Everything goes well making the beignets. We have to leave them to rise for an excruciating hour while we do very little—just making the compote and putting it to chill and making the lemon curd, which I could do in my sleep.

The clock is ticking away and I feel it.

We’re not on our game the way we have been the past few days.

I’d love to blame it on the fact that Vanessa seems to pop by every ten minutes or so with a snarky comment or some critique of my relationship with Dustin, which of course is not really a relationship, but she doesn’t know that.

I can’t fully blame her for whatever’s off-kilter, though. Bakers work under pressure and the best bakers don’t let anything undermine their success.

“Can you check this compote?” Dustin asks.

It’s a sentence I never imagined I’d hear from him. I check the consistency.

“Looks good. Put it back in the fridge.”

I return to the curd, and it’s too late. The curd has curdled. The eggs have separated into flecks, making the curd grainy and lumpy instead of smooth.

“Ugh!” I shout, drawing both the cameraman and Vanessa’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, walking straight to our station.

“Nothing. The curd …” She’s the last person I want to explain myself to, but I’m also on camera, so I can’t exactly tell Miss Muffet to go sit on her tuffet.

“Grab me a strainer,” I tell Dustin.

He bends down, fishes through the pots and pans in the bottom drawer and comes up with a strainer. I attempt to strain the curd, but the silky texture is gone. No matter how much I strain it, tiny yellow flecks float to the surface like soggy confetti.

“Can we make another batch?” Dustin asks with those puppy dog eyes.

We’re down to the final twenty-five minutes. I could make more, but it wouldn’t have enough time to set, even in a quick chill.

“No,” I say, unable to hide the note of defeat in my voice.

“Well then, what can we do?” he asks.

“Pretty much, pack your bags,” Vanessa says under her breath.

Dustin ignores her.

“We’ll have to go forward with what we’ve got,” I say.

“Then let’s get to plating,” he says.

We plate the warm beignets, setting two small ramekins on the edge of each plate, one with the gorgeous compote, chunks of fruit and a glossy consistency making it stand out as a winner. And then the curd. Or sauce. I can’t fool anyone here. It’s not meant to be a lemon sauce. It’s a failed curd.

The judges do their tasting. Dustin stands next to me, his arm wrapped tightly around me like a real boyfriend. I’m too wrung out and exhausted to sort through the thousands of thoughts and emotions he draws up. Instead, I lean into his support and he steadies me.

After every dessert has been tasted, the judges deliberate. Then they come back with their decision as to who will be eliminated. Only three couples are going through to the Semi-Final round tomorrow. Three are going home.

Pack your bags rings through my head in Vanessa’s smug tone of voice.

The first couple going through is announced. They jump up and down and hug. Then one of the judges runs through why they chose the next couple. It’s not us.

There’s only one spot left and four couples who fought for it.

Lemon curd. Of all the things, I’m going home over lemon curd.

Another judge says, “We had a hard time deciding between two of you for this last spot. If not for the failed lemon curd, Emberleigh and Dustin would’ve won by a landslide. That being said, we have chosen Dax and Shelly.”

I stand frozen as they call out the last couple’s names.

We lost.

My chest tightens—I let Vanessa get in my head.

I look up at Dustin. His brow is creased and his lips thin into a straight line.

“You should be in that spot,” he says with such faith in me I nearly cry. Then he asks, “Did I mess us up?”

“No. I did.”

All I want is to head to our room, throw everything into my suitcase and get out of here. Having Vanessa witness one of my most epic fails feels especially cruel. She’ll have enough material saved up in her gloating bank to live off for years.

We’re waiting for Kamela to wrap up her final words into the camera when one of the judges raises his hand. “Hold on.”

The entire room pauses.

A few of the couples whisper. Dustin’s arm returns to my waist as if he instinctively knows when I’m going to need the extra support.

He’s incredible. Regardless of the outcome, I’ll never regret having him with me through this experience. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

The judge who raised his hand addresses the couples.

“It has come to our attention that Shelly and Dax used some ingredients they brought from home. They violated the contract and broke one of the essential rules of the competition. This means they are disqualified and will be going home tonight. Our runner up couple, Emberleigh and Dustin, will continue on into the semi-finals.”

At first I’m stunned. I look up at Dustin.

“We’re still in?” I ask him.

“We’re still in,” he confirms. “We get a chance to show them what you’re really made of.”

He’s smiling down at me—beaming, actually.

I turn toward him. “We’re still in?”

I can’t believe it.

“We’re still in, Firecracker.”

The reality hits me so hard, I jump up. And when I do, Dustin lifts me up in the air.

“We’re still in this thing!” he shouts as he lowers me.

My arms seem to act of their own volition, wrapping around his neck in what starts as a hug.

Dustin’s face is so close to mine, I can feel every breath.

His eyes meet mine and our gazes lock.

We made it!

I thought we were going home. I let Vanessa get to me. If we lost, it would have been due to my carelessness and lack of focus.

And now, we have another chance.

Dustin’s got me. Literally. I’m still in his arms, and he’s smiling and whooping. I rest my head on his forehead, relief flooding me.

The other contestants and the hosts are cheering for us.

Adrenaline rushes through my veins.

The excitement of everyone’s reactions fuels my euphoria.

Or maybe it’s just him. The way his eyes sparkle. The way he’s here for me, giving up everything so I can pursue the prize.

Dustin smiles at me with one of my favorite smiles.

I don’t know what overcomes me, but my eyes flutter shut without any thought as to what I’m doing. I feel myself drawn to him. It’s heady, the thrum of the cheers rising up from the crew and the other couples, the idea that we still might win, and the feel of being held by Dustin.

The next thing I know, Dustin’s lips are on mine, warm, soft and full of intention. Did I kiss him first? Or did we just meet in the middle? I can’t even tell. And I don’t care.

This isn’t a subtle kiss. There’s no hesitation or caution. Dustin is kissing me like he means it.

I lose all sense of time or place.

This kiss is everything. Our mouths move in a dance of relief and longing.

Finally . I’ve been waiting for this.

I vaguely hear one of the producers say something and my mind snaps back into reality.

What am I doing? This was never part of the plan.

It’s too late. We’re already kissing. I’m in his arms, my legs wrapped around his torso, him supporting me, and more than that, he’s kissing me like he wants me as much as I want him.

Like this was inevitable. We weren’t supposed to do this.

But I can’t seem to stop. Like a tiger released from captivity, I’m no longer constrained. I’ve already kissed him now.

And it wasn’t for show.

Not for me, it wasn’t.

The noise around us subsides and my awareness of my surroundings floods back to me.

I pull back and burrow my head in Dustin’s shoulder.

What have I done?

I kissed him. He kissed me. And it was everything.

And I kissed him in front of the judges, the hosts, the camera crew, and the other contestants … in front of Vanessa.

He whispers into my neck, “Everything okay?”

I lean back, reluctantly making eye contact with him. I feel every eye in the room on us.

Dustin’s steady gaze holds me as he gently sets me back down on the ground.

“I … uh … think I just need a moment,” I say to him and then I glance around at everyone else. “Thank you. I’m … thank you.”

That’s the best I can come up with, considering my lips hum with the memory of our kiss. My whole body, and what’s worse, my heart, are crying out for more.

That kiss felt beyond real.

I’m in over my head.

And I’m going to have to face Dustin.