by Sable Sylvan
“Yeah, when they’ve been whipped into shape,” said Abigail, her arms crossed, looking to Clove.
“Abigail, my dear girl, I am so sorry I couldn’t make your graduation,” said Barbara. “I had the hip surgery. Come here and let me give you a hug!”
“All right, Grandma, but do mind your hip,” said Abigail, delicately hugging her grandma. Her grandma returned the hug with a great big bear hug that took the breath out of Abigail.
“If I don’t use it, why on earth did I pay for it?” teased Barbara. “Always so serious, Abigail. “And you, you must be Clove…I’ve heard a good deal about you, too. You may try to be the strong, silent type, but you better make sure you communicate when you have to. Whether you’re shifter or human, that is the key to a strong relationship.”
“Of course, Mrs. Quiggly,” said Clove, performing a small bow for Barbara.
“I’ve met Alice’s Herb, Abby’s Clove, Addy’s Sage, and Cayenne’s Basil,” said Barbara. “That leaves, of course…Savina and her Mason.”
“My Mason?” asked Savina. “Oh no, Grandma…it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Barbara, confused, looking between Savina and Mace. “Oh, yes, they’re not engaged yet.”
“No, we’re not dating either,” said Savina. “We’re just suitemates.”
“Suitemates? Is that like the uh, what do you call it, ‘friends with benefits’ I’ve heard about on the news?” asked Barbara.
“No, Grandma,” said Alice. “You see, Herb and I have a very big…house and we divided it into suites. We sorted people based on age. Savina and Mason happen to share a suite.”
“So they share a bedroom?” asked Barbara.
“No, it’s a real suite,” said Alice. “They each get a bedroom. There’s a shared room in the middle that can be used as anything.”
“I use mine as an art studio,” said Cayenne, squeezing Basil’s hand.
“Ah, I see,” said Barbara. “Do forgive my confusion, dearie. It’s just, you two do make such a handsome couple.” Barbara gave Savina what was meant to be a conspiratorial wink, but all it did was make Savina want to cry. She swallowed her tears before they could burst and she just gave her grandma a soft smile back before leaning in to give her a hug.
Barbara gave Mason a quick hug too and they all headed inside to eat. Neither the Quiggly nor the Quincy nor the Scoville family knew about eating churrasco, so it was a new experience for all of them. Waiters, dressed in more conservative Viking inspired clothing than usual, walked around with what looked like Norse swords. They were skewers covered in meat, barbecued over a grill. They served cuts of meat onto plates, and people served themselves from the plates. As there were many people, the servers cut the meat directly onto platters. People served themselves using personal tongs.
Naturally, as this restaurant was a showcase for The Feminine Mesquite, all four of their hot sauces were on the table, with two used in the cooking of the meat. There was jalapeño chicken made with their ‘Secret Sauce’ as well as adobo cooked pork made with their ‘No Bullshizz Sauce.’ The rest of the meat was served without sauce so people could add their own. All the best cuts of beef were served, from filet mignon to classic Texas tri-tip. There was roasted habanero ‘Awesome Sauce’ and cayenne garlic ‘Fated Mate Sauce’ for anyone who wanted some extra heat, and for dessert, there was tres leches cake, made with caramelized condensed milk that was turned into a caramel syrup, whipped cream, and heavy whipping cream, unwhipped.
“Thank you all so much for joining us tonight,” said Alice. “Herb and I would like to extend invitations to all of you for tomorrow’s hot sauce competition.”
“That’s right,” said Herb. “Our eight younger siblings have joined forces to make four brand spankin’ new hot sauces, and the winning sauce will be featured at the Bright Star County Fair. However…Alice and I have one last twist to reveal.”
“A twist?” asked Cayenne. “No frikkin’ way, not this late in the game!”
“It’s nothing major,” said Alice. “But…we thought that, because this is a hot sauce competition and not a cooking competition, that it was only fair that the hot sauces all be used in the same dish. It wouldn’t be a Texas cook-off without chili, so back at the manor, the chefs are busy brewing your sauces into chili.”
“So that’s why you required a gallon of sauce from each of us,” said Basil, crossing his arms. “I guess it’s a good thing for the other teams, given they can’t cook half as well as Kai and I can.” Cayenne extended her fist and Basil bumped it. Looking at them, it was hard for Savina to believe that they’d been at each other’s throats since the spring, until barely a couple months ago, but they were obviously on the same wavelength now.
“All the chilis will be the same, except for the sauce,” said Herb. “We won’t be marking which chili contain which sauce, so please don’t go telling people what’s in each dish. We want this to be a fair blind testing. Naturally, if you have any allergies or dietary restrictions, talk to me or talk to Alice and we can make sure you can safely eat a given dish.”
“We’ll be serving sweet tea, cornbread, fried chicken, and all the other Southern staples us Quincy and Quiggly folk enjoy,” said Alice. “We wanted to share a little bit of our culture with you, the Scovilles.”
“And, to share our Norwegian culture with the Quincy and Quiggly families, we’ve also prepared a special smorgasbord, a cold buffet of things like imported smoked salmon,” said Herb.
Alice and Herb went on to explain the various details of the next day’s shindig. The queasy feeling in Savina Quincy’s stomach got worse. The hot sauce competition was so silly. Why did it still matter to her? Regardless of whether or not she wanted it to matter to her, it did, and the thought of failing at the competition made Savina’s stomach spin. That spinning sensation kept Savina up late into the night…
* * *
Savina was reading a comic book and listening to her music. That’s why she didn’t notice that Mason had opened her door and was walking over to her until his shadow was cast on her comic book. She looked up and nearly jumped off of her bed.
“You scared me,” Savina scolded as she removed her headphones. She looked over Mason. His hair was wet, but it wasn’t dripping on her floor. The dye job hadn’t been ruined and there wasn’t dye on his fingers or his clothes. He was wearing a pair of black running pants and a tight white shirt. Through the shirt, which was slightly damp and somewhat transparent, she could see his mate mark. She looked away, back to the comic book. Why the heck did Mason have to look so darn sexy and turn her on, but at the same time, make her feel so guilty? He had to know what he was doing.
“Sorry,” said Mason. “I saw your light on, and I worried.”
“You worried?” asked Savina, folding her arms.
“Yeah. Don’t you like getting your eight hours?” asked Mason, motioning to her bed. “Why aren’t you under the covers yet?”
“What are you, my dad?” asked Savina.
“Nope, just worried,” said Mason. “It’s not like you to stay up.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of staying up lately,” said Savina. “I just usually mess around on my phone. That’s why my light isn’t usually on.”
“You haven’t been sleeping?” asked Mason.
“It’s nothing,” said Savina.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” said Mason.
“Mason, do you really wanna do this?” asked Savina, closing the comic book and putting it on her desk before going back to sit on the bed. “After all, aren’t you a hypocrite?”
“How so?” asked Mason.
“You’re wearing jogging clothes at eleven at night,” said Savina.
“First off, I was going for a run,” said Mason. “Secondly, it’s not eleven. It’s three. You need to hit the hay. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“Okay, okay,” said Savina. “I’ll try and get some sleep.”
“You haven’t been sleeping, have you,” sa
id Mason. It wasn’t a question.
“It’s none of your business,” said Savina. “Just go so I can get changed and go to bed, okay? I’ll be at the hot sauce competition tomorrow. Just knock on my door if I’m still asleep when you get up.”
“Okay,” said Mason. “But, Savina…”
“Yeah?” asked Savina.
“If you don’t talk about what’s going on in here,” said Mason, motioning to his head and then his heart. “Or in here, you won’t be able to fall asleep.”
“I just had too much sugar tonight,” said Savina. “Bye, Mason.”
“Bye, Savina,” said Mason, shutting the door behind him as he left.
Savina went to get changed and found herself crying while she picked her pajamas out. She cried silently because the last thing she wanted was another surprise visit from Mason, especially while she was crying. What the heck was going on? What was inside of her that was keeping her up at night, and why the heck did that inside thing think that everything Savina was doing was wrong, wrong, wrong?
Chapter Ten
Close to half of the Quincy-Scoville family had made it to the hot sauce competition held at Mesquite Manor. Alice and Herb had hired their cooks from The Matchstick Grill to help their household staff in preparing the chili and the other foods that would be served at the cookout. The Quincy Sisters and Scoville Brothers would’ve been put to work, but they were busy receiving their guests, which gave Savina an opportunity to get away from Mason and make small talk with relatives she hadn’t seen in quite a while…although every time she saw Mason out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw him look at her, too.
Why did Mason care so much about her? The events of last night had made Savina feel even worse about what had happened between them when they’d had sex. It was obvious that Mason gave a darn about her. She’d crushed his heart, but it was to save the feelings of her sisters and his brothers. He had to realize that this wedding was bigger than the two of them. It was a Texas-sized affair that was already attracting the wrong kind of attention. That’s all Savina knew. She’d heard whisperings in the hallway from the staff, but they hadn’t spilled the beans on what was going on.
The cook-out started at lunch. That way, judging and calculations of votes would be finished up by mid-afternoon, just in time for a fancy white tablecloth dinner hosted in the grand dining room. The line for the vats of chili was long, but there was lots of chili, enough for everyone. There had been one last twist. There was a fifth chili, and nobody knew who had entered it into the competition. Was it Grandma Barbara? Was it the Scoville parents? Nobody knew!
Savina sipped at her lemon sweet tea while she watched the Quincys and the Scovilles eating and talking, smiling and laughing. The Quincys had dressed up, the Scovilles had dressed down, and even though they were from very different worlds, they were bonding over hot sauce and food, just like one Quincy and one Scoville had a long, long time ago.
“Enjoying the view?” asked a familiar voice.
Savina turned. There was Mason. He was wearing faded red Bermuda shorts with a white polo. It was fancy for Fallowedirt but casual for a member of the Oslo elite. Mason was walking up to her with two cups.
“Double fisting?” asked Savina, motioning to the cups.
“Nah, this is for you,” said Mason. He passed Savina a cup.
Savina looked in the cup. It was full of sprinkles.
“Huh?” asked Savina.
“I know you like your sweet tea with sprinkles,” said Mason. “I got you some from the kitchen.”
“Oh, gee, you noticed that?” asked Savina, turning and blushing.
“Yeah, I did,” said Mason. “I also noticed, while in the kitchen, that there’s been a slight delay with the second batch of chili, so if we want some, we should get it now, before my kin get a second appetite.”
“Before your kin do?” asked Savina. “Have you seen my kin?”
“You suggesting that Alice and Herb should’ve had an eating contest instead?” asked Mason.
“I have a feeling hot sauce pie wouldn’t be as great as chili,” said Savina. “Just a hunch, you know?” Savina poured the sprinkles into her sweet tea and layered the sprinkle cup underneath her tea cup. Even though the tea was cold, the sprinkles would eventually melt into the tea. She walked with Mason to the chili area. In about six minutes, they’d gotten a table and ten little cups of chili, with spoons and a pitcher of lemon iced tea and some lemonade, too. The cups were served by the staff into labeled paper bowls.
“Should we go in order?” asked Savina.
“Sounds good to me,” said Mason.
“Okay, chili numero uno,” said Savina. She put the chili in her mouth and tasted it. The sauce was smoky, but it tasted like pure liquid smoke. It tasted bacony, and there was a heat, but it didn’t seem to be from chili peppers.
“What do you think?” asked Mason.
“This is not a competitor. I’ll tell you that much,” said Savina. “I like smoke. I like bacon. I like heat. However, this isn’t a hot sauce. This is a sauce that happens to be hot.”
“I agree,” said Mason. “I think the smoke and bacon is overpowering and it tastes like someone just made a bacon smoothie and tossed in some charcoal briquettes. Onto chili number to.”
“Toe?” asked Savina.
“Sorry, two,” said Mason. “To is ‘two’ in Norwegian.”
Savina tried the next chili. It had a chipotle flavor, a cayenne garlic flavor, a jalapeño flavor, and a roasted habanero flavor.
“Am I crazy, or…” started Mason.
“Somebody tossed all the sauce together,” said Savina. “It’s awful. I cannot finish this.”
“So that leaves three and four and five,” said Mason.
“You’re sure that ours wasn’t the first or second, right?” asked Savina.
“There wasn’t a hint of mango in them,” said Mason. “Don’t worry. One of these is ours.”
Mason passed Savina chili number three. Savina tried it. There was the familiar mango flavor and the special savina habanero pepper’s heat and unique flavor profile. The chili was hot, real hot, and Savina needed some tea and lemonade for this…but it just wasn’t because of the heat. This was the only delicious chili they’d had, and it featured the hottest sauce. What was a Texas girl to do other than gobble it all down, along with some ice cold sunshiney goodness?
“We came through,” said Savina. “Well, unless…”
“Unless?” asked Mason.
“Unless someone else made a mango savina sauce,” joked Savina.
“Did you see any of our siblings at the Gobblin’ Market?” asked Mason. “Because I didn’t scent them. Chili four.”
Mason passed Savina the penultimate cup of chili. She tried it. It was a very herbal, floral sauce, but while that may be nice for perfume, it didn’t work for hot sauce. It also tasted a little like tea. As much as Savina liked her sweet tea, she didn’t like it mixed in with her chili.
“Bad,” said Savina. “Just…bad.”
“You got that right,” said Mason.
“Chili cinco, five, the last one,” said Savina. “Whew. Here’s hoping it sucks.”
“Here’s hoping,” agreed Mason.
Savina tried the chili. It had a paprika base that was reminiscent of Eastern European cooking, but it worked with the cayenne peppers, carrot puree, and sugar that it had been blended with. There was just a hint of tomato, too. This would be a winner with the Scovilles for sure.
“I have to admit, it’s a good sauce,” said Savina.
“It’s good, but it’s not great,” said Mason. “Trust me. Our sauce is going to take first.”
“Okay, I trust you,” said Savina.
“Come on, let’s play cornhole or something to pass the time,” insisted Mason. “The hot sauce competition is over. There’s nothing we can do right now to change the outcome of the competition. All we can do is have a good time. Plus, if we lose, so what? At least we had a ton of fun
making the sauce. It’s not our fault if other people have poor taste buds.”
“Wow, you’re already a sore loser, and we haven’t even lost yet,” teased Savina.
“That’s the spirit,” said Mason. “Come on. That cornhole board isn’t gonna play itself.”
Mason took Savina by the hand. The feeling of his polar paws on her hands sent a chill down Savina’s spine. It wasn’t out of fear. His hands weren’t cold, so why did his paws make her feel as if she was in the middle of a Nordic blizzard? Savina didn’t pull her hand away, and she followed Mason to where the kids were all playing backyard games, from horseshoes to cornhole to whatever apps they had on their phones. Mason started a game of duck-duck-polar, and soon enough, more kids and adults joined in, and even some of the teens found themselves having fun with the family rather than playing around on their phone. That evolved into a game of hide and go seek which ended when Alice rang her bell to call everyone back over to the picnic tables to hear the results.
Mason had just caught Savina in her hiding place when the bell rang. His ears pricked up as he heard the clanging of the bell.
“Come on,” said Mason, taking Savina’s hand again.
He led her through the crowd to Alice and Herb, who were surrounded by their siblings. Herb had a small trophy, but how the heck Herb had managed to find a trophy with flame designs on the side, featuring a bottle on the top, was anyone’s guess.
“The results of the hot sauce competition are in,” said Alice.
“In last place was chili number two,” said Herb. “This was a mix of all our hot sauces. This was the dummy sauce we entered. We call it ‘Death Sauce’ because it’ll kill your taste buds.”
“In fourth place came chili four,” said Alice. “It was a sweet, floral, herbal sauce, but it was not popular at all. Sorry, honeys.”
“It’s all good,” said Abigail, holding hands with Clove. “We just had a ton of fun making it.”
“In third place came chili one,” said Herb, reading off a card. “Comments said it was too heavy, not a hot sauce, and plain not good.”
