Her gaze landed with a direct hit on Pete’s shadow-stubbled smile.
“Interesting.” Martin Alexander’s voice cut through Lily’s surprise, drawing her back to reality with a resounding thud. “Can you tell us a bit more about why you chose shortbread rather than, say, a traditional sugar cookie base?”
The straightforward question narrowed her focus, and Lily answered it along with a follow-up question from Olivia Reece. The tension in her shoulders kicked down a notch as they tasted and took notes, and for the first time since they’d deviated from the plan, Lily took a full breath.
“Hmm. I’m not sure about this dark chocolate.” Chef di Matisse tipped her head, her expression completely blank. “What was the thought process there?”
The breath Lily had just taken jammed in her lungs like a scoop of cold marmalade left in the bottom of the jar.
Pete stepped up beside her, easygoing confidence infusing each of his words. “The dark chocolate was meant for just a touch of emphasis without trying to outshine the other ingredients. A teaser, if you will, to let the pomegranate’s flavor shine through.”
Chef di Matisse frowned. “I see. Still, it’s a bit risky to go sparse on flavors in a dessert. Perhaps something sweeter might have worked a bit better here.”
With that, Lily’s gut—and all her hopes with it—sank like a stone.
After a few more notes and a hushed conference between the judges, the decision was made. Lily’s feet felt sloppy beneath her as she and Pete made room for their fellow contestants, every move amplified by the fact that two of them were about to be sent home.
“Lily.” Pete’s whisper found her ears in a cross between encouragement and an apology, but she kept her eyes fixed on the judges’ podium.
Mostly so he wouldn’t see they were rimmed with hot tears.
“Well, this was a very close call,” Chase began, the results slip in his hand. “You’re all clearly talented and innovative, and the judges felt both desserts had merit. In the end, though, flavor tipped the scales by just one point.” His gaze landed on her and Pete, and oh, God, couldn’t they just get this over with?
“Congratulations to Lily Callahan and Pete Mancuso, who will be moving on to our next round!”
Lily gasped, unable to form a decent thought, much less get something down the chain of command to her mouth.
They’d done it. They’d won the first round.
She wasn’t going home.
“Yes! Lily, we made it!” Pete threw his arms around her in a gleeful embrace, surprising her right off her feet. Since her only choices were to clutch him back or tumble to the floor, she held onto his sturdy shoulders while he swung her around. Words floated by, scraps of sound and movement she was sure were important, but the only thing Lily could focus on was Pete’s mouth as he lowered it to hers.
Lily tasted like peppermint and total surprise, and the feel of her lips under his, all soft and pliant and warm, sent a bolt of hell yes right down his spine.
“Oh!” They parted on a soft exhale, and Lily blinked up at him from behind her glasses. It had been a perfectly PG kiss, just a spur-of-the-moment thing born of the excitement of winning, really.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her again. And slower.
“I told you that you could trust me,” he said, lowering her to her feet while trying to recover the grin he wore like a shield. She took a step back, ghosting a hand over her lips with a nod.
Whatever she’d planned to say in response got lost in the rush of shaking hands with the opposing team, thanking the judges, and the obligatory post-round interviews with the camera crew who’d been milling close by. Time moved at a startling clip as an event planner whisked him away to go over the itinerary for the next few days, complete with sign-up schedules for the test kitchen, more interview slots, and information on some group charity-event thing the night before the next round.
Pete stuffed all the pages into a folder, making a mental note to breeze over them later. The only page he cared about right now was today’s score sheet, and since it wasn’t in his packet and they’d all been delivered, there was only one person who could have it.
And only one place that person would probably be.
He sauntered back to the competition floor, which had long since quieted from the earlier excitement. Sure enough, Lily sat perched on a stool at the counter in their work space, her standard-issue serious demeanor locked into place as she looked up from the slip of paper between her elbows.
“It looks like the judges all felt the shortbread itself was good, although none of the scores for that component were perfect.”
Pete bit down on the urge to laugh, although not with malice. He should’ve known she’d get right to it. “That seems a bit conservative, but okay. What else did they have to say?”
The furrow in her brow paved the way for a frown. “The chocolate caused quite the controversy. Chef di Matisse gave us a two out of five for overall flavor, citing the chocolate as most of her reason.”
“What about the other two judges?”
She paused. “Martin and Olivia both gave it perfect marks in that category.”
Pete shrugged, leaning against the stainless steel counter beside her. “You can’t please everybody, I guess.” Still, two perfect marks out of three plus the win? He’d take it.
“It was a huge risk.” Lily fastened him with a hard stare. “And an unnecessary one. We only won by a point.”
He stiffened, but didn’t change his tone. “Okay, but we did win. Who cares about the margin?”
“I do. It was both our futures hanging in limbo. You should’ve known better than to put stock in a whim that nearly cost us everything.”
“Hey.” The word was out before he could stop it, a clear prickle of irritation riding on the assertion. “That whim got two perfect scores. I don’t hear you complaining about that.” Not to mention taking the shortbread from great to fucking stellar. Like any decent chef, Pete had tasted the final product before it hit the plate. No two ways about it; they’d earned their win.
“You’re missing the point. It was a complete gamble, and it could’ve easily gone the other way.” Lily’s voice gave a slight tremble, betraying the vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. “We really could’ve lost, and it wouldn’t have been just you going home.”
The tender thread of emotion weaving over her face pushed him toward her, close enough to see the tiny flecks of gray in her dark blue irises.
“Any time we compete, we could lose and go home. It’s a high-risk, high-reward game.”
“See, that’s where we differ. To me, this isn’t a game at all.”
Lily’s eyes flashed over his, as wide open as the rest of her, and the expression on her face stirred up an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, until it smashed into him all at once.
It was remorse.
The vulnerability flickered for just a second longer before Lily snuffed it out with a curt nod. “Either way, I suppose you’re right. It doesn’t matter. Looks like we’re back to being competitors, so best of luck in the next round.”
She extended a hand, and Pete found himself caught squarely between wanting to argue with her until they both dropped and kissing her until her fierceness turned into something entirely different.
But the sound of a masculine voice being cleared stopped him from doing either.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt.” Chase Bishop stood a few feet away, with his hands casually stuffed in his impeccably tailored pockets. “I was hoping to have a word with you.”
All the better. As turned on as Pete was by the challenge of figuring her out, Lily was right. They were competitors, and if anything, getting through today’s round only solidified his determination to win the whole thing and skyrocket his career to the big leagues. His best move right now was to walk away so he could focus on exactly that.
“Right. I’ll leave you two to your privacy.” Pete turned toward the rear exit, but Chase stop
ped him in his tracks.
“Actually, I need to speak to both of you.”
Lily’s face went the color of chilled cream. “Is there a problem with the competition results?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Chase assured her, and the relief clattering through Pete’s veins looked like a perfect match for the expression breaking over Lily’s face. Chase smiled. “In fact, it’s rather the opposite.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Lily said, and Chase pulled a BlackBerry from his pocket like it was the obvious answer to her confusion.
“As you know, we’re updating our blog rather frequently as the contest unfolds. We’re also cross-promoting with a few culinary sites, as well as our sponsor’s Web pages. That way both the contestants and the resort have the opportunity for some great media exposure.”
Pete nodded. He’d come here to pad his reputation through his résumé, so none of this was news. “Okay, so what does that have to do with our results?”
“As it turns out, footage of you and Ms. Callahan was selected for one of today’s spotlights. It went live two hours ago, and you’ve already received . . .” He paused to check his phone. “Just over three times more hits than the next-place clip, and more than the rest of them combined.”
Whoa. Even Pete, who usually preferred experience over engineering, knew that was a lot. “But dozens of teams competed today. What’s so special about us?”
Chase lifted a brow. “People seem to feel you two have great on-screen chemistry.”
Oh hell.
“All those hits were for us kissing rather than baking?” Lily asked, her voice so soft he couldn’t get a read on it.
“Most of the segment showed the two of you working together. First and foremost, this is a cookie competition. But you two are a dynamic team. And if I’m being honest, the kiss probably didn’t hurt.”
“So what does this have to do with anything? The team event is over.” Pete felt the words low in his throat, but it still didn’t stop him from putting some gravel to them. He might’ve wanted the win for his career, but he hadn’t kissed Lily as a PR scam.
He’d kissed her because it felt right.
“Technically, yes. The team task is over. But we’ll be filming everyone at the group holiday event tomorrow and throughout the week in the test kitchens anyway, to prepare new teasers and generate interest in the competition. During the course of those sessions, we’d like to do another segment on you . . . together.”
“You want us to be all buddy-buddy just to boost exposure?” Lily knotted her arms over the front of her chef’s whites, but Chase was quick to assure her.
“It’s not just to enhance the resort’s PR, Ms. Callahan, although yes, there is that. And we’re not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.” The unspoken reference to their impromptu kiss hung heavy in the air. “But one of our goals is to showcase our competitors’ culinary talent to boost their personal reputations. Not everyone can win the prize money, but it’s our hope that more than one of you can walk away with something beneficial from the competition.”
Lily didn’t argue, but still didn’t look convinced, so Chase continued. “We received thousands of hits today, and it was only the opening round. The people who watched those clips aren’t likely to forget your name too soon.” He flicked his glance from Lily to Pete, tacking on, “Or yours.”
No two ways about it—it was a veritable treasure trove of kickass marketing, not to mention the very thing Pete had come here to do. Plus, surprising as it had been, he and Lily had worked well as a team. This really was a win-win for both of them.
Provided he could keep his libido in check, and that Lily would actually agree.
Chapter 5
Lily cradled the phone in her hotel suite to one clammy ear and dialed Clara’s cell phone number. She might not believe in crazy superstitions like luck, but the mystical power of best girlfriends? Now that she’d follow to her very last breath.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God!” Relief spilled through Lily’s veins at the sound of Clara’s voice on the other end. Trying to explain an Internet lip-lock with the guy who had inadvertently embarrassed your best friend in the middle of the town grocery store was so not something one could do in a voice mail.
“Lily? Is everything okay?” Clara’s concern made it over the line loud and clear, and Lily winced. Better to just come out with it. After all, the kiss hadn’t meant anything.
Never mind that she couldn’t stop revisiting it in her brain on a continuous loop. In brightly vivid 3-D. With the sexy rumble of Pete’s voice echoing through her mind in surround sound.
“Yes . . . no. Did you, um, see any of the competition online today?” She fidgeted with the phone cord. For someone who didn’t trust anything other than what she could see in front of her, Lily sure was saying a lot of prayers today.
Clara gasped. “Your competition! Lily, I’m so sorry. I’ve . . . been kind of tied up with something here, and I must have missed it. How did it go?”
“Well, the good news is that I made it through the first round.” Lily paused while Clara squealed her congratulations, then delivered the rest in a rush. “But the, um, bad news is that I was partnered with Pete, and when we won the round, he got kind of excited and, well, he kissed me. In front of a camera. And footage of it might be floating around the Internet. A lot. God, Clara, I’m so sorry!”
Silence hummed over the line for a long second before Clara sighed. “I should’ve figured he’d enter the cookie competition. He did say he wanted to focus on his career.”
“So you’re not mad about the kiss thing? I swear I had no idea he was going to do it.” Lily swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Although that was the God’s-honest truth, she couldn’t deny the bolt of raw electricity that had sizzled through her when Pete kissed her.
Or that she wanted him to do it again. Without the cameras rolling.
Clara’s small chuckle was the last thing Lily expected, but exactly what she got. “Of course I’m not mad. In fact, good luck with him.”
“I’m so not interested in Chef Smiles-a-Lot! It was just a heat-of-the-moment thing that took me by surprise, and I didn’t want you to hear about it in town.” Pine Mountain’s grapevine might as well have been constructed from steel-reinforced cables with Kevlar coating. No way was this not going to make the rounds.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there,” Clara said, her voice tinny on the other end of the line.
Lily pulled the receiver away from her ear for inspection. Cell phone connections were precarious at best in the mountains. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Which I can’t because I’ve got to go. But don’t worry about Pete, it’s ancient history. Good luck in the next round of competition. I’m rooting for you!”
They said their good-byes, and Lily replaced the receiver with a shake of her head. She should be relieved that Clara seemed to have put Pete firmly in her rearview mirror. But rather than feeling comforted by their conversation, a fine layer of unease dusted over Lily like freshly sifted powdered sugar.
Because she was fresh out of reasons to not work with the cocky-as-hell pastry chef.
Twelve hours after she’d uttered the fateful, ridiculous yes that landed her in the test kitchen with her smirk-happy nemesis and a two-man camera crew, Lily cursed the very nature of the word. Someone had failed to mention to her nether region that this culinary bender with Pete was for the benefit of the blogosphere, and not the boudoir. If it hadn’t been so long since she’d actually seen the boudoir, it wouldn’t be so bad.
But as it stood, her concentration had more holes than a dozen boxes of donuts.
“Morning.” Pete strolled into the test kitchen that had been set up adjacent to the resort’s main restaurant kitchen. Having worked her entire career in a kitchen the size of a walnut, the
sheer dimensions of Pine Mountain’s amenities blew Lily’s mind.
Along with reminding her what would be well within reach if she won.
“Morning.” Lily tucked her pencil into the tidy knot of hair at the nape of her neck and flipped her notebook closed. Just for one day, she could play this little game. All she had to do was keep her cards glued to her vest as they practiced their recipes for the cameras. No problem.
“What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the pair of cheery red and green to-go cups in his hands. The coffee at the resort’s breakfast buffet had been bitter at best, with the rest of the offerings equally unappealing. It was little wonder that management was looking to replace their head chef and culinary staff.
Pete’s mouth fell into that overconfident grin she wanted so badly to hate, sending a trail of good-morning-to- you right to her center. “It’s my way of saying thank you for being willing to work with me again after my chocolate stunt. While I can’t apologize for taking the risk, I should’ve realized it would upset you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Shock rippled through Lily at the unexpected sentiment. “Well, we did get some great marks for flavor, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
He held up the coffee. “Call it even?”
“Sure.” She peeked at the kitchen’s periphery, where the camera crew was gearing up. “Is it from the buffet?”
“Hell no,” Pete said, then snuck a covert glance around to make sure no one heard him. “That stuff was thicker than the motor oil in my Jeep. This is the real deal.”
He slid one of the cups across the counter until it rested about an inch from her fingertips. A thin ribbon of steam curled up from the notch in the lid, filling her nostrils with rich, earthy goodness.
“Thank you.” She cradled the cup in her palm and took a polite sip.
The instant the flavors met her taste buds, all hope for decorum hit the fan. The deep richness of the coffee and the velvety glide of cream loosened a groan from her chest, and she wrapped her other hand around the cup in a possessive gimme! gesture. Her next three sips grew progressively enthusiastic as her senses and stomach joined forces in a greedy demand for more.
The Sugar Cookie Sweetheart Swap Page 28
