“Hell, yeah!” he hooted, shoving his fist in the air. “We did it!”
His deep voice echoed in the empty cement room and she laughed at him. “You tired?” she teased. “I was barely getting started.”
“You’re so full of shit, Parker.”
He tossed a juicy slice of brisket into his mouth and stared at her as he chewed, that strong jaw gnashing and grinding. It was hot as hell, nearly as hot as she was. “That’s damn good,” he said, drenching another piece of his beef with sauce and stuffing it into his mouth. “I don’t think you’re gonna be able to beat that dry rub.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Flipping off all the burners, she started washing the utensils she’d used.
“Fuck that,” he barked. “Cleaning crew will get the washing.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she told him. His employees had volunteered to work today for time and a half, but that didn’t mean they wanted to. Plus, it gave her something to do besides watch Hugh eat in the sexiest way possible. This whole day had her strung out, and she was ready to go back to the hotel and jump in the cool hotel pool with an ice-cold margarita.
But then Hugh was beside her at the sink, helping her wash dishes, and the very thing she’d been avoiding all day was right up against her. She knew he was doing it on purpose, getting in her space, making her all too aware of how she’d been wrapped around him in the dark room, riding his leg until she came.
Taking a few steps away from him, she started drying what she’d washed, creating enough distance between them that she could no longer be taunted by the lingering fresh scent of his deodorant still alluringly present underneath the overwhelming smell of woodsmoke.
“Whoever wins,” Hugh eventually said when he’d washed nearly all of the remaining dishes, “we’ll go out for a celebratory meal.”
Parker looked at him speculatively. “You’ll keep your shirt on?”
“No promises,” he grinned, that crooked incisor melting her.
“Then my answer is no.”
He laughed. “I’ve never met a woman so scared of my bare chest. You must be two seconds away from clobbering me.”
“In the face,” she muttered.
He was still laughing when Michael entered the room. “Guys, a decision has been made.”
Parker met Michael’s eyes and he smiled, so she knew she had it in the bag. Pulling out the front of her shirt and fanning herself with it, she realized she probably wasn’t presentable for the judges. Her back was soaked in sweat; her hair was a limp mess on top of her head, damp strands falling down her neck. Making a quick stop in the bathroom, she ran cold water over a bunch of paper towels and freshened up. Redoing her hair and reapplying a bit of makeup was all she had time for, but it at least made her fit for the public eye.
She and Hugh made their way into the dining area where the judges were stationed, him accidentally bumping her as they tried to go through the doorway at the same time.
“Ladies first,” she scolded him.
“You were going too slow,” he accused, a corner of that wide mouth lifting as he looked down at her from his significant height.
“My legs are short,” she informed. “I’m not a giant like you.”
“Those legs are just right,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at his incessant flirting. It was almost too much to even be true now.
In front of the judges, Hugh was even worse, chatting to all of them like they were the best of friends. Parker wondered if it was all an act, the gregarious football star shtick. Was the confidence so innate in him just covering up something soft and fragile? She wouldn’t be the one to find out anyway, so she should probably put the curiosity away. Being curious about Hugh would lead nowhere good.
Fortunately, none of his schmoozing mattered in the end.
Michael stepped forward with the scores. “The rib round went to Parker, brisket went to Hugh, and chicken went to Parker, with Parker’s averaged score being nine-point-five out of ten and Hugh’s being eight-point-five. It was a great afternoon of barbecue, but that makes Parker our winner!”
Parker grinned at Hugh, whose thick arms were crossed over his chest as he read the anonymous score sheets the judges had displayed on the table.
“This is hogwash!” he bellowed, pushing the sheets aside and giving the panel his best glare. But she knew he wasn’t really upset, just playing it up. He pointed to the man-bun reporter for the newspaper, whose face froze in fear. “You better make it clear how close of a contest it was, pal.”
“It wasn’t a close contest, though,” Parker pointed out, enjoying putting her hand directly over an open flame. “I wiped the floor with you and your weak barbecue.”
His tongue shot to the inside of his cheek as he regarded her. “A lightning round. You and me, no smoking, no studying or working ahead, just us at the grill.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Far be it from me not to hand you your ass again if that’s where you want it.”
A thick eyebrow shot up, but she ignored him and his rude behavior. “You guys mind trying a burger?” she asked.
Everyone nodded their heads and she slapped Hugh on the shoulder. “Let’s go, big guy, so I can beat you again. Triumph suits me.”
He just grinned at her and it was trouble.
To Hugh’s credit, he fired up both grills without a problem and they were able to get to work. He’d chosen to use already ground beef while she located the equipment to grind up sirloin and a little bit of pork butt. It would make for a more tender and flavorful burger. She made sure he didn’t see what she was doing, though. And to top it off, she also added a crapload of butter to the mix because fat was what made burgers great. Then she hand-whipped some homemade aioli with tons of garlic and hot sauce, and caramelized some Vidalia onions until they were crispy and sweet. There was no way he was winning this, either.
However, as she stood in front of the grill in stifling heat that was over one hundred degrees, sweat pouring down her body, she had to wonder if it was worth it. She’d already beaten him at the main competition; this was all just to soothe his wounded ego. Again.
Flipping the hamburgers over, she placed a slice of smoked gouda cheese on top.
“Gouda?” he scoffed, his crooked nose wrinkling. “Miz Fancy-Pants over there.”
“What are you using,” she threw right back, “American? Just remember to take the plastic wrapping off.”
“Smoked cheddar,” he clarified, looking smug. “And there’s nothing wrong with American cheese.”
“Except that there’s no food in it,” she pointed out.
“What do you call all that cheese flavoring then?” he asked, grinning stupidly at her, clearly enjoying their non-argument argument. And that’s when she realized that she actually liked Hugh Matteson. Not as some dumb hot jock who would be good in bed, but as a live human person who could make, and more importantly, take a joke. It wasn’t good news for the no-strings-attached kind of affair she’d planned on.
She took her patties off the grill, along with the buttered and toasted sourdough buns, and went off to construct the burgers. Slathering either side of the buns with the aioli and same thick sweet barbecue sauce she’d used on the brisket, she added the onions, a couple of pieces of crunchy bacon and a juicy slice of tomato.
Hugh, on the other hand, just breezed into the kitchen, slapped the standard toppings on his burger, including squeeze bottle mayo, lettuce and tomato, and seemed to call it a day.
“You don’t actually want to win, do you?” she accused.
“I just don’t need my burgers to be precious is all,” was his gruff retort. “Not every damn thing needs a fancy-ass mayo. You got truffle oil in there, too?”
“Nooo,” she drawled. “I don’t mind food trends, though. Bringing new foods and ideas to the forefront is exciting.”
“
That’s all well and good, but a burger is a burger. It doesn’t need to be gussied up.”
“I know you’re purposely trying to irritate me.”
“Well, if you’d had to watch sweat dripping down your cleavage all damn day, you’d be fucking testy, too,” he bit off, staring at her T-shirt pointedly. “Now let’s get this finished so I can get myself into a cold shower.”
That got her blood boiling. “You’re the one who suggested this burger insanity!” she shouted at him, her nerves and patience shot. “We could already be in cold showers!”
His tongue slid to his cheek again as he met her eyes. “Yeah, but then I couldn’t see you all sweaty.” Then he winked at her and she swore if he were just a little bit closer she would have punched him right in the face.
He sauntered out into the dining area again and she nearly stomped after him, fuming all the way.
That is, until she won that contest, too.
She didn’t bother to gloat, though, just smiled sweetly at Hugh as she bid Michael and the other judges goodbye.
Finally, it was just the two of them left in the restaurant and she returned to the kitchen to collect all the gear she’d brought, bearing the heat again when she went outside to get her utensils and the rest of the wood she’d brought for the smokers. She knew she was soaked, but it was over and she could finally hop in the hotel pool.
“Listen,” she told Hugh when she got back to the kitchen, “you don’t have to bottle my sauce. This was fun, but I think I proved my point. I’m more than qualified to make a judgment about barbecue.”
He faced her straight-on, hands on his hips. “I never thought you weren’t, Parker. But lying pisses me off and you lied straight to my face even as you were coming apart on my leg. I didn’t deserve it and I didn’t like it.” He said it all without his normal bluster and dramatics. Just a simple statement of how he felt, which she took in.
However, as she stared at his mulish expression, she realized that it had all been just punishment to him. He’d found her guilty and had handed down his sentence. She wasn’t sure she liked it. It meant that they were involved in something together when she needed this to be physical attraction only.
“Come on,” he said, waving her toward the other end of the kitchen. “I have an idea to cool us down.”
She followed, a little trepidatiously, because now she didn’t really trust him.
When he stopped in front of the meat locker, her gaze flew to his and all her conflicting feelings took a back seat. “You’re a genius,” she breathed.
He nodded, hoisting open the thick door and ushering her through.
“Oh my God,” she breathed as the cold air hit her flaming skin like aloe on a sunburn. “This...is paradise.”
Hugh flipped up his shirt and groaned. “I’ve been waiting all day to do this.”
Parker swallowed hard because despite being inside an actual freezer, Hugh’s abdomen got her heated.
“And, Parker, we’re doing the sauce. All of them were goddamn delicious.”
CHAPTER SIX
HUGH FELT ALMOST ashamed of how easy it had been to get Parker into the freezer with him. It wasn’t entirely selfish, because his internal body temperature was at boiling from standing by the grill for that final burger and he imagined she was no different. He’d suggested the last burger challenge with every intention of getting her in the freezer afterward.
And it had been a good idea on his part, too, because she was looking at him as if he were Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny rolled into one.
“Good, huh?” he asked.
She nodded her head vigorously, holding her arms out from her body and fanning her shirt, the same way she’d been doing all damned day, driving him insane as the thin cotton caught at her chest and allowed him tantalizing peeks at creamy bare skin that were everything and not at all enough.
“Why haven’t we been doing this all day?” she asked, her voice breathy with pleasure.
A good question, but mostly because his whole plan had been to seduce her with cold air, which he was rethinking now as goose bumps popped up over the bare skin of her arms and legs. She’d be ready to leave anytime now and he’d be right back where he started. His seduction game apparently needed some work, because he’d been doing a lot without much success. Or maybe what he was pursuing was different. He’d never had much interest in complicated women before, but Parker was bringing it out in him. He hadn’t realized how much he liked to work for a woman in his bed, so it was a novel experience.
“I didn’t want to interrupt the contest,” he said instead. “You looked very intense.”
“I was chill,” she argued with a goofy smile that had him fighting his own.
Instead he snorted. “Yeah, chill,” he mocked. “You barely knew anyone else was in the room. And you weighed your spices, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never seen anyone do that in the history of my life.”
She shrugged unapologetically. “My recipe is very exact.”
“Well, now it’s mine.” The words were out of his mouth and he realized by her startled glance that she hadn’t thought about that yet.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he felt it in his dick. What the hell was happening to him that he liked her anger? “Did you throw the contest just to get my recipe?”
“No, I certainly did not. But after tasting your sauce, I have to admit that it’s better than mine and since you’re a known entity in the food world, it doesn’t hurt to have you featured in my restaurants.”
“Oh my God,” she drawled, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You did lose on purpose!”
“I did no such thing.” And he hadn’t, but it had occurred to him that bottling her sauce and adding another one to his restaurant could never be a bad idea. He liked to rotate them out anyway, and having a food critic create a sauce did give a kind of respectability to the operation that as a former sports figure he lacked.
She met his eyes, fire sparking in the ice-cold air. “I don’t believe you. I retract my terms. I don’t want to give you my recipe.”
“I know, sweetheart, but a deal is a deal. It’s in the newspaper and everyone is going to want to try the new sauce. Which one do you want to do, the Carolina mustard sauce? That would be a brand-new addition to my lineup, so it’s what I’d prefer. And it’s fucking legit dynamite.”
The compliment seemed to take the wind out of her sails.
“You’re much smarter than you look,” she grumbled.
“I hear that a lot,” he said, chuckling. “What’s got your panties in a bunch, anyway? You’ll get all the money without any of the investment, just like you planned in the first place when you made that your prize.”
She pulled out her mass of hair from the elastic band, combing her fingers through it and grabbing the loose strands back up before anchoring it on the top of her head again. All that was well and good, but what it did mostly was draw his attention back to her chest arching out, stretching that Cubs logo to new proportions, hard nipples at full attention. He was in major trouble if he didn’t get his hands on her soon.
“Yeah, but this whole thing is your doing,” she pointed out with a deep frown. “You goaded me into a competition. Possibly just to get my sauce.”
“Wait a second,” he said, raising his hands up as if to ward off her inaccuracies. “I may have suggested the contest to show you a thing or two, but you dictated the terms of your victory. Don’t blame me for turning a potentially bad situation into something profitable.”
She stared at him, brows still drawn together in frustration, but her eyes met his and he knew she’d accepted that he was right. For what it was worth, he understood her irritation. She was giving up something incredibly valuable in her sauce recipe. But if anyone wasn’t going to screw her over, at least not figuratively, it was him.
“I’ll have a lawyer draw up
my terms,” she told him finally. Then she ran her hands up and down her arms. “Man, this feels so good.”
“I know,” he agreed, wondering how he had a full hard-on in a deep freezer with no less than twenty sides of beef and pork hanging from the ceiling on thick meat hooks. It wasn’t a romantic setting but he had it bad for her. The cutoff shorts that barely covered her round ass were sending jagged bolts of lust straight to his dick. He wasn’t much of a baseball fan, either, but from now on the Cubs were his number one team. She did miraculous things for T-shirts.
“I had fun today,” she said, meeting his eyes again. Hers were warm and melty, not that she meant them to be in the context of their current conversation, but just in general. Parker was a badass, but her eyes gave away the fact that she was also sensitive and he felt that now as he watched her. Felt closer to her because he had shields up, too. “You’re a pretty good trash-talker.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I typically tone it down for the ladies, but we got pretty creative on the field.”
“What was your favorite insult?” she asked, eyes sparking with curiosity.
“It’s not for public consumption,” he said, not going to say any of that shit out loud. No damn way.
“Oh, come on,” she taunted. “I’m not a child, Hugh. I can take a little trash talk.”
He thought about what he could possibly say that wouldn’t have her thinking he was a cretin. “Guys would call each other’s moms all kinds of stuff that was not nice, so those had to be the worst. And I’m not going to repeat them because I have a mother and she deserves better.”
Parker crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down.
“You can glare at me all you want, but I’m not sharing,” he dug in. “Let’s just leave it at, I’m good at trash talk.”
She looked like she might not let it go, but then her eye caught on a slab of beef. “You really have this shipped in from Texas?”
He nodded. “I own a ranch, remember? I supply my restaurants.”
“So you have, like, actual cowboys on your ranch?” she said, eyebrows raised in interest as she moved in between the rows of meat.
Sin City Seduction Page 7
