by Robyn Neeley
Looking down at the warm crockpot, he smirked. When had entering a chili cook-off become the highlight of his day?
This small backwater town was making him feel alive for the first time in a very long time—or maybe it was the pretty redhead that was responsible for this new spring in his step.
He knew it was wrong—she was pregnant for Christ’s sake—but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to spend time with Abby. All his free time.
He’d have to keep those feelings at bay. He’d meant what he’d said last night about helping her make her baby’s father jealous. It’s the least he could do for the woman who not only brought back his writing muse but gave him the idea to buy the inn.
He’d only been an inn owner for five days but felt deep down that he was meant to own the property. He loved being in the beautiful old place and couldn’t wait to restore it to its former glory. For once in his life, he was on track with his professional goals and damn, it felt good.
A nice old man, whom he recognized as working at the post office, opened the door for him since he had his hands full. “Thank you,” he said and entered the building where Bridget and Betty greeted him with hellos.
“Brandon, I heard you were entering the contest.” Bridget handed him a nametag and reached for his crockpot. “I can take this for you and set you up.” She leaned in and the scent of her strong perfume tickled his nostrils. It was nice but nothing like Abby’s familiar strawberry scent. “The women are going to go bonkers once they realize your chili is a contender.”
Brandon laughed because that might be the only thing he had going for him. He could talk a big game, but his date’s chili was probably going to be better than his. “Has Abby checked in yet?”
“She has. She’s in the main room along with your camera guy.” Bridget said with more than a hint of interest in his question.
“Great. I’ll see you later.” Brandon headed in, shoving his hands in his pockets. The warm, hearty smells of spice and sauce caused his stomach to growl. Preoccupied with getting everything ready for his date tonight—if he was lucky enough to win—had taken most of the day, and he’d forgotten to stop for lunch. He hoped he could sneak a few samples before this thing kicked off.
Spotting Abby already at a table stirring her pot, he took a minute to check her out.
And his eyes thanked him for doing just that. She looked adorable in her casual dark jeans and orange fuzzy sweater. He couldn’t help but think she was wearing the perfect comfortable outfit for what they’d be doing tonight. He cracked his knuckles—he needed to win their bet.
After he’d left Abby’s cottage this morning, he’d called Mitch and asked him for his help. That special favor was now docked in front of Brandon’s cottage and it was perfect for what he had in mind. If all went according to plan, he would soon be sharing with Abby one of his favorite pastimes.
That thought made him more than a little giddy. Yeah, he had come up with this idea to date only Abby to make her baby’s father jealous and to end the parade of women he’d be forced to go out with, but he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to really getting into this blog assignment now that all his dates were with her.
Taking off his jacket, he studied the crowd. Man, there were a lot of dudes here. Where were all the women he could sweet-talk a vote out of? He didn’t necessarily need to win the contest; he just needed more votes than Abby. Once the women got here, all he would need to do was turn on his charm, dial it all the way up, and he’d have her beat.
Abby looked up from her crock pot and smiled widely. “Well, if it isn’t my competition.”
Brandon sauntered over and greeted Shane who was setting up his tripod, then he turned and fixed his gaze on Abby. “Evening, Ms. Stevens. I hope you are ready for some of the most amazing chili you’ve ever tasted.”
Rolling her eyes, Abby waved him off. “Oh, please. Like yours stands a chance.”
Just then, Bridget brought over his chili and placed it next to Abby’s. He was glad he stopped off at the town’s Target and purchased a decent-size crockpot because Abby’s was enormous. “Is that a cauldron?”
“Very funny,” Abby deadpanned and kept stirring. “I wish for my competition to turn into a toad.” Looking at Brandon, she shrugged. “Guess it didn’t work.”
Brandon joined her on the side of the table. “If it did, would you kiss me?”
That got a blank stare.
“You know, turn me into your prince charming.”
“Right . . . I . . . um . . .” She shook her head and he could tell he’d embarrassed her by the way she was stammering.
“We can save that for the camera.” He winked as Betty came over and dropped down plastic cups, spoons, and napkins.
“Okay, you two,” Betty began her instructions. “Make sure you only fill your cups halfway full so that you’ll have plenty of chili for folks to sample.”
“Got it.” Brandon stepped behind the table and grabbed his mixing spoon.
She waved two green tickets in her hand and dropped one in an empty mason jar in front of his chili and then did the same with Abby’s jar. “These are ‘winner’ tickets. Each taste tester has three tickets to leave for their top three chili picks. The jar with the most tickets wins. Good luck.” She laughed and leaned into Brandon. “Try not to take it too hard if you lose. You’re up against a pro.”
He returned her laugh with his own. “Don’t I know it, but who knows—everyone loves the dark horse in any competition.”
“You know, Brandon.” Abby reached for her ladle. “I understand if you’d like to concede before this gets started. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of all these people or on camera no less. You could sneak out the back and ride your dark horse home.”
“No way. I am in it to win it.” Brandon looked down at his lumpy pot, the bright red sauce bubbling to the top. Just as his mother had taught him. He grabbed a plastic cup and filled it halfway, careful to follow Betty’s instructions. “Care to taste?”
Abby smiled, accepting his cup. Digging her spoon in, she took a bite. “Not bad.”
“Not bad. It’s freakin’ awesome. Admit it.”
“It’s got a sweet little kick to it. I’ll give you that. What’s in it?”
“Like I’d tell my competition.” He reached out and playfully tugged on her long ponytail. “Tell you what. I’ll share Mama Swift’s secret ingredient after I win, and we’re far away from here and on our date that I’ve planned.”
He could see that comment made her cheeks even redder than they were before, and he liked that result. Their fun banter ended way too soon as a crowd of eager taste testers gathered around them.
Brandon went to work, scooping his chili into little cups, taking his time to chat with all the testers that stopped by and to tell them all about his plans for the inn. People seemed genuinely happy to hear that the place would be re-opening and wished him well. After twenty minutes, ten green tickets had been dropped into his jar. Not a bad start.
He glanced over at Abby who was flirting it up with the Volunteer Fire Department—all of them. The men were swarming around her table.
He watched as every bone in his body turned jealous at the fact that her giggles and coy looks weren’t aimed at him. She certainly knew what she was doing, sweet-talking her way to victory.
Well, two could play that game. “Betty, you’re looking beautiful tonight. Is that a new sweater?” he called out to the waitress, who immediately came over.
“Now, Brandon, you’re not trying to charm another vote out of me, are you?”
“You know me, Betty.” Handing her a cup of his chili, he lowered his voice. “But I do need your help.”
“With what, sugar?”
He nodded in the direction of his competition. “Abby agreed to finally go out with me if I beat her. I have something very romantic planned.” He grinned, adding for good measure, “I don’t need to win the contest; I just need more tickets than her. Can you help me o
ut?”
Betty’s face lit up. “I have an idea. Are you willing to do whatever it takes?”
“Yes!”
She reached up and squeezed his cheek. “Consider it done.”
Abby stopped what she was doing and glared over at Brandon. “What are you up to?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” Her eyebrow shot up. “You’re up to no good.”
“What are you insinuating, Ms. Stevens?” His feigned surprise could have won him an Emmy.
She held up her mason jar, now nearly full with green tickets. “Looks like we’ll be going on the date of my choosing tonight.”
He winked at the camera, ready to get his flirt on. “So, Abby, if on the off chance you beat me, where will we be going?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She glanced down at her watch. “In exactly one hour. Unless you want to throw in the towel now because I would totally understand if you wanted to save face and all.”
“Never! I’ve got an hour.” He scanned the room for his partner in crime. Where did Betty dash off to? Maybe he should try to recruit some votes at the refreshment table; it seemed to be the place to gather judging by the crowd around it. “I’ll go grab us some apple cider.”
Brandon headed over to the drinks. Tapping on the spout, he filled one glass up and then another for Abby. Bill, the owner of the local hardware store, was at the table so Brandon took a few minutes to talk to him about light fixtures.
Finally heading back with Abby’s drink, he was nearly run over by a mob of women all beelining it for his chili table. Before he knew what was happening, his ticket jar overflowed with green tickets. What the devil had Betty told these women? He sauntered back up to his station where Abby shook her head.
“I knew you’d cheat. What? Did you offer up your lips to be raffled off to one lucky lady?”
There was only one woman he was interested in placing his lips all over, and Abby wouldn’t have to win some stupid raffle to get him to do it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He handed her the cider. “Obviously these women know good chili when they taste it.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Half of them didn’t even try it.”
As the hour passed and more and more women stopped by to sample his chili and drop off their green tickets, it became apparent that Brandon would win their bet. He rubbed his hands in excitement.
Whatever Betty had told these ladies he’d do, it had worked. He reached for Abby’s coat and handed it to her. It was finally time for their special evening.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re leaving early. It’ll save you the embarrassment.” He kidded and grabbed his own coat, shoving his arms through it.
She reached over the table and picked up his ticket jar, waving it in front of him. “I want to know what you did to get all these tickets.”
He shrugged and put his unused cups and spoons to the side. Betty had said she’d take care of his and Abby’s crock pots so they could take off for their date. “I’ll go let Betty and Bridget know we’re leaving now. Meet you out front?”
She sighed and zipped up her coat. “Fine, but just know, Brandon Swift, that you are a cheater. You did not win this cook-off fair and square.”
“I can live with that.” He squeezed her shoulders and headed for the front where he saw Betty getting ready to take the podium.
“Betty.”
“Hey, sugar. You taking off so soon?”
“Yeah, I’m kind of feeling like I shouldn’t really win the contest.”
“Say no more. We’ll give the trophy to Ernie. He’s been trying to win for twenty years.”
Brandon glanced over at the town’s cop, hamming it up with tasters. “Then it’s high time you give it to him.”
She nodded in Abby’s direction. “Are you happy with the outcome?”
He smiled and stole a glance over at his date who was in a conversation with Shane. “Very.”
“Good. Now go have fun.” She winked.
He started to head back to the table, but turned, remembering he did have one final question for Betty. “Say, how did you get all those women to vote for me?”
She came over and squeezed his hand. “I told them you’d help out with our annual Christmas fundraiser.” She ran her bony hand up and down his arm. “Say, do you have a tattoo?”
“No.”
“Bummer. Well, we can paint one on you. I’ll call you soon, and we’ll work out the details. It’s time now to count the tickets.” With that, she hurried over to collect Ernie’s mason jar.
Brandon shook his head, chuckling. Whatever he’d agreed to do, he didn’t care and was sure it would be well worth it.
Chapter 13
Abby stared out at the docked motorboat. After leaving the Elks Lodge, Brandon had driven them back to his place and escorted her to the dock before rushing into his cottage. What was he up to and when did he purchase a boat?
She wrapped her arms around her chest and gazed out at the water. The chili cook-off had been fun—totally rigged whether her date admitted it or not, but still a great evening.
This new norm of hanging out was one word: awesome. Sure she wanted to rip his clothes off, especially today when he’d forgone his red and white flannel for a sexy, deep green sweater, but the time they were spending joking, laughing, and teasing each other was fun, too. Why weren’t they like this when they were sleeping together?
Eventually she’d have to be honest and risk him being furious with her for casting the spell; however, it was nice not to think about the impending conversation and just enjoy being with him.
“Hey, sorry that took so long. You ready to begin our date?” Brandon’s arms were full of blankets and two large white pillows. He stopped and handed the pillows to her.
“Will Shane be filming us?”
“No, I told him to take a hike. Follow me.”
“Shouldn’t he be here?” Abby hugged the pillows to her chest. She wasn’t really all that concerned that the camera wouldn’t be turned on for whatever adventure Brandon had planned.
“I think he’s got enough footage for our first date. You know, we want to tease our audience.” He stopped and stepped into the boat. “Besides, there wouldn’t be enough room in here for him and his film equipment.”
Abby watched as Brandon unfolded the blankets and laid them on the boat’s floor. “What are we doing? Why the pillows and blankets?”
He stopped what he was doing. “Man, you ask a lot of questions.”
“Okay.” She zipped her lips. “I’ll just watch.” Abby stood in silence as Brandon rearranged things to his liking. This couldn’t be his, could it? Not able to take the silence any longer, she asked, “Is this yours?”
“Nah, it’s Mitch’s. He let me borrow it for the night.”
“We’re going out on the water? It’s dark out there.” She stepped back.
“We’re not going too far.” He reached out and took the pillows, setting them down and then reaching for her hand. “I want to show you something.”
“You do?” Her hand slipped into the one he offered without any hesitation. Whatever it was, his familiar touch was all she needed to throw caution to the wind and step up and in to the boat.
“Here, take a seat.”
Abby let go of his hand and sat down on the blankets, stretching her legs. “Comfy.”
Brandon crouched down next to her and handed her a thermos. “Given your condition, I thought we’d go with hot chocolate tonight.”
“Good choice.” She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d rather be sipping champagne with a woman not pregnant. Why had he gone to all this trouble without even letting Shane film what they were doing? Wasn’t that the point of their dating? All show for the camera.
“Okay, time to go.” Brandon hopped up into the driver’s seat, turned on the boat, and guided it down the edge of the lake while she enjoyed the cool evening’s breeze. Being on the wat
er in the fall was one of her favorite pastimes, but he couldn’t possibly know that. Minutes later, he stopped short of the alcove that led up to the inn and dropped an anchor.
“I knew it. We’re working tonight, aren’t we?”
“Not at all.” He grinned and slid down next to her. “I thought it would be nice to see the inn from this vantage point.”
Her heart raced as his arm brushed with hers. They sat in silence, looking out at the dark property. “You love this place, don’t you?”
He leaned back, propping himself on his elbows. “I know it’s been a whirlwind, but it just feels right. Like this place was always meant to be mine.”
“Well, I’m happy for you.” She may have thought he was completely insane for his spontaneous purchase, but she was starting to realize how much this new business venture meant to him. That passion made her want him even more.
She instinctively reached down and wrapped her arms around her middle. “It really is going to be a beautiful lakeside inn. Everyone who owns a boat is going to want to stop by.” She thought for a minute, holding on to the image of several boats docked around them on a beautiful summer night. “You know, it might be a good idea to open a bar down here in the summer. Something to entice customers in.”
“Love that idea. We could serve signature drinks and appetizers. Maybe set up some speakers with summertime music. A little island-inspired action, man.” He snapped his fingers and began to sing the first few lines of a Bob Marley tune.
She giggled and sang along. Brandon had a nice singing voice. Another thing about him that she didn’t know.
Finishing the chorus, he turned and faced her. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Always say the right thing. You have so many good ideas in that beautiful head of yours, Abby Stevens.”
“You have ideas, too, and you always know how to say the right thing.” Especially when you’re calling me beautiful.
