“Is it any good?” Xander asked, then finished off the last rib.
“I love my dad like crazy, but no. It’s terrible! I’m not even quite sure what he keeps forgetting. Maybe a different ingredient every time.”
He smiled. “Corn bread is like French fries and pizza. Even bad, it’s good.”
Lily laughed, that sound he loved. And the thought of some other guy hearing that melodic, happy laugh for the rest of his life was like a punch to his gut.
Dinner over, they decided on dessert somewhere else, and found a make-your-own frozen yogurt shop full of customers. Xander made a bizarre pistachio, mocha-chip concoction, with a zillion toppings, while Lily went for the strawberry shortcake fro-yo with multicolored sprinkles. They walked and ate, people watching, window-shopping, oohing and ahhing over cute dogs of all sizes in a pet store display.
And then they were done with their desserts and it was getting late, so they headed back to the hotel since they needed to be in the hotel kitchen at 7:00 a.m. Apparently, the Luxury Lodge had three kitchens, and for the weekend, the competition would be using the small one designed specifically for room service.
Lily was quiet in the elevator up to the fifth floor. Because she was thinking about tomorrow?
Or tonight?
Probably both. He slid the card key into the slot on the door, and they headed inside, his gaze landing on the small bed. They would be sharing that tonight.
“Well, I’ll just go change into my pj’s,” Lily said.
He swallowed. Would her pj’s be as sexy as her little black dress?
She dashed into the bathroom with some garments in her hand and her tote bag. A few minutes later she emerged in navy blue gym shorts and a fitted white T-shirt.
Yes, her pj’s were as sexy as her black dress.
Her hair was in a topknot, and he could barely take his eyes off her long neck. There were freckles on her neck.
“Your turn,” she said, slipping into bed, sliding to the very edge. He was surprised she didn’t fall between the bed and the wall.
He grabbed a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt, changed in the bathroom and came out to find Lily with the blanket pulled up to her chin. He slid beside her, trying to not brush against her, but the bed was pretty small. Lying next to her without touching her was going to make for a hell of a long, sleepless night.
“Good night,” she whispered.
He turned to face her. “Good night. Good luck tomorrow.”
She smiled, the slight illumination from the moonlight that spilled in through the filmy section of curtains lighting her beautiful face, the freckles he loved so much. “You’re my good-luck charm.”
“Glad to be,” he said.
She closed her eyes and then turned to face the wall, so he turned to face the windows, knowing he’d get zero sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Lily must have been so tired and stressed about the competition and about sharing a room with Xander that she’d fallen right asleep. How she’d managed that, she had no idea. But the next time her eyes opened, it was morning, her cell phone alarm buzzing at 5:45 a.m.
Xander was on the floor, bare-chested, doing crunches. Of course he was.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “You’re gonna knock ’em dead this morning.”
“God, please don’t let me poison a judge,” she said, her eyes widened.
He smiled. “Lil, it’s an expression.”
Deep breath, girl, she told herself. “I’m just so nervous. I have to win. I have to.”
“You will. Believe it and it shall be so.”
She laughed. “Who said that?”
“I forget. Yul Brynner in some movie?”
She cracked up and shook her head. “Last one in the shower is a rotten egg!”
“Are you inviting me to shower with you?” he asked, standing up. All six foot two of him. Bare-chested.
“Absolutely not.” Though she’d love it. But no way. She was not letting anything about their not-romance get in the way of making it into the next round.
He grinned. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”
She grabbed some stuff from the closet and her tote bag and shut the bathroom door behind her. The hot shower did her worlds of good, soothing her muscles, cramped from trying not to brush up against Hottie when he’d first slid in bed beside her last night.
She got dressed in her new skinny jeans, her lucky red T-shirt with the Daisy’s Donuts logo on it, and her trusty clogs, and then took three deep breaths. She dried her hair with the weak blow-dryer on the wall, then emerged to find Xander doing push-ups.
Hot. Hot. Hot. He got up and headed in the bathroom with his clothes, and was out within ten minutes, dressed casually and looking gorgeous.
The lobby offered a continental breakfast for guests, and though Lily could barely eat right now, they stopped there. With a strong cup of hazelnut caffeine in her and half a blueberry muffin, she was good to go when they hit the kitchen at six fifty.
As she and Xander entered the kitchen where the contest would be held all day, there were murmurs that it would be like The Great British Baking Show, where they’d be given the ingredients and a recipe, and would have to make the same thing.
“You’re all going down,” Kyle Kendrick said with a toss of his blond bangs.
“In your dreams, blondie,” a woman with very long dark hair said.
Hal, the emcee with the ever-present clipboard, came in. “Okay, contestants and assistants. Each of you was given a number when you entered the kitchen. Please stand at the station that has your number on the cupboard.”
Lily was number five—which had always been one of her favorite numbers. Her birthday was on the fifteenth. And she’d been hired at the Maverick Manor on May 25 of the previous year. Lots of good fives in her life.
She’d met Xander on August 6, but it was close.
The kitchen had ten stations, each with its own four-burner stove, oven, stainless steel counter space, mini fridge, sink and cupboards. She and Xander stood at the counter, which faced the front of the kitchen, where Hal stood with his clipboard and headset.
“This morning, you will make a perfect Western omelet. Seven of you will be eliminated. Three of you will move on to the final round this afternoon. In the drawer of your counter you will find a recipe for the omelet. You will find all the ingredients and utensils you need in your station, along with a full spice rack. You will have twenty minutes to make your perfect Western omelet. Oh—and I will answer your burning question: yes, you may alter the recipe to suit yourself. Of course, that may get you in trouble or it may put you in the lead. Who knows?” he added with a devilish grin. “Assistants, you may take one minute to familiarize yourself with the cupboards while the cooks peruse the recipe. Ready, set, go!”
While Lily pulled open the drawer and took out the recipe, Xander opened the cupboards and the mini fridge. The recipe was basic. She’d definitely enhance it. This was about being the best—not being safe.
This morning at the continental breakfast buffet, she happened to overhear two of the contestants talking about the judges. Two were married and from New Orleans originally; they’d gotten married there on a Mississippi riverboat cruise, which made her think they probably had good associations with their hometown. Perhaps a little taste of home in her Western omelet would give her a slight edge with them, and be just delicious enough to sway the third judge. Lily had no idea where he was from.
“Contestants! You have twenty minutes. Starting in...three, two, one, cook!”
“Okay, what do you need?” Xander asked her.
“I need a medium sauté pan and a spatula. I’ll grab the ingredients.”
In moments, the right pan and the perfect spatula were on the counter. Lily got the burner to the right level, added butter to the pan and began
beating five eggs. She added a small amount of milk, then beat the mixture some more.
“Xander, I need you to finely dice one onion, one green pepper and one yellow pepper. Put all your love for beautiful vegetables into your work. Meanwhile, I’ll dice the ham.”
“Got it!” Xander said, rushing to the pantry. “All my love for onion and peppers coming up.” He pulled out the ingredients, got out a chopping board and began dicing away. “Love you, onion that I’m cutting with a really sharp knife. Chop, chop, chop.”
“Um, could you keep it down over there?” snapped the guy at the station to their left. He was in his forties and wore a neon-green apron that said I Can Explain It to You but I Can’t Understand It for You. How nice. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“I can talk and concentrate,” Xander told him. “But I’ll try to lower my voice.”
“Gee, thanks,” the guy said.
Lily smiled at Xander and rolled her eyes, then continued dicing the ham. She added it to the pan, giving it a stir.
“Done,” Xander said, bringing over his chopping board.
He slid the very nicely diced vegetables in the pan, and Lily sautéed them in the butter, waiting until they softened. Hmm, the onions and peppers and ham smelled heavenly. Of course, the entire kitchen smelled amazing.
“You stupid buffoon!” the woman at the station to the right of Lily screamed. At her assistant—who was red in the face. “How could you drop the eggs? We only had five!” The woman turned to Hal with the clipboard. “Hal, I can get more eggs, right? My idiot sister dropped ours and they’re all over the floor.”
“Sorry,” Hal said. “No more eggs in your fridge, no omelet, so that disqualifies you. Please pack up and leave the kitchen. You are not Northwest Montana’s Best Chef.”
The woman was seething. “And this is not Top Chef!” she yelled, then stalked off, her poor sister trailing.
“Sorry,” the sister said meekly, and ran off after the former contestant.
“Ooh, that’s too bad,” Xander said. “Thanksgiving sure won’t be fun for them this year.”
“Right?” Lily said, shaking her head.
“And then there were nine!” Kyle Kendrick called out.
Jerk.
“Ten minutes, Lil,” Xander said.
She nodded and flashed him a thumbs-up, then Lily added the eggs to the pan, debating whether to add a little cheese. There were four kinds in the fridge, but a true Western omelet, a purist one, didn’t have cheese. She’d skip it.
“Four minutes, Lily,” Xander said.
“Four minutes left!” the assistant behind their station bellowed.
“Oh hell!” someone shouted. “The omelet’s stuck to the pan!”
“I am so gonna win,” said Kyle Kendrick. “No one makes an omelet like I do. No to the one!”
“Yes, chef!” his assistant said. She happened to be the pretty blonde Lily had seen draped over Kyle last night in the lobby as she and Xander returned from Kalispell.
Lily rolled her eyes so hard that Xander cracked up.
“Find that funny, do you?” Kyle said, glaring at him. “You’ll see.”
Now it was Xander’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Eyes on your own paper, kids,” Xander whispered.
Lily laughed and high-fived him.
“Two minutes, chef!” Kyle’s blonde said.
“Two minutes, Lil,” Xander said, getting a glare from Kyle.
She loved that he was having a good time. Competitions could seriously stress out some people, but Xander rolled with it, doing a very careful and good job.
Just before she flipped the omelet she added a hint of tabasco sauce and a dash of cayenne pepper across the omelet to bring that little taste of New Orleans. The omelet looked absolutely divine, if she did say so herself.
“Can I eat that?” Xander asked.
“If there’s any left over,” she said, giving her shoulders a shimmy. She waited until the bottom of the omelet was the perfect shade, then flipped the sides onto each other.
Done.
She plated, added a sprinkle of kosher salt and a little pepper—and waited.
“Time!” Hal called. “The judges will now begin their rounds. Please provide three forks.”
Xander handed Lily three forks, which she placed on three folded napkins next to the plates.
The female judge came over and studied the omelet and then made some notations. She took a bite, then another, looked at Lily, and made a notation, then moved on.
When her husband, one of the two male judges, took a bite, Lily swore he closed his eyes with a tiny sigh, but that might have been her fantasy. He made his notes. The third judge took three bites, always a good sign, and jotted his comments.
“My goodness!” said the female judge to a contestant two rows behind Lily. “How much salt did you add?”
Lily heard crying. She felt so sorry for whichever contestant it was that she didn’t even turn around. Xander didn’t, either. He just squeezed her hand.
“That’s two down!” Kyle announced. “Eight of us left.”
“Jerk,” Xander whispered.
After conferring with the three judges, Hal stepped forward. “And the three contestants moving into round two are...”
Lily held her breath.
* * *
Xander tried to remember the last time he’d prayed. When he was a kid, around four or five. He’d wait at the window for his mother to come back, but she never did. So he started praying every night, since someone at school had told him that was how you got stuff you wanted.
His mother had never come back.
He prayed now—to the universe, to nature, to the big man upstairs. Let Lily’s name be called, please!
“Kyle Kendrick!” Hal announced.
Crud, Xander thought.
“Boo-yah!” Kyle said, fist-pumping his way up and down the aisle. “Where do the winners stand?” he asked.
“You can stay at your station for now,” Hal said. With the teensiest note of disdain, unless that was wishful thinking. Probably was.
“Kerry Atalini!” Hal called next.
There were six contestants left. Xander took Lily’s hand and held it, and he wondered if she could feel him praying beside her. He was thinking that hard.
She closed her eyes, too.
“And our third and final contestant moving on to the final round—Lily Hunt!”
Her eyes popped open. Xander picked her up and whirled her around, then kissed her solidly on the mouth.
“You did it!” Xander whispered in her ear. “And this afternoon, you will beat both other contestants and win the ten grand!”
She threw her arms around him and hugged him and he held her tight. He was so proud of her. So proud for her.
“Contestants, we will reconvene at noon on the dot in this kitchen for the final round. Only one of you will be named Northwest Montana’s Best Chef!”
“Sorry, Lily, but it’s going to be me,” Kyle said, sauntering by her with his assistant trailing him on her high heels. How she puttered around the station in those three-inch things was beyond him.
Xander ignored him. “Any idea what the final-round meal is?” he asked Lily as they left the kitchen and headed for the elevator.
“No clue. But I feel ready for anything. Thank you so much for being a great assistant, Xander.”
“You taught me everything I know,” he said, batting his eyes.
She gave him a playful sock on the arm. “Seriously. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
The moment they got into the room, Lily said she wanted to take another shower and get the smell of peppers and onions out of her hair and skin. When he heard the water turn on, he wished he was in that shower stall with her. Washing her beautiful
body. Lathering up her hair. Making soapy love to her.
He parked himself on the desk chair, his attention on the bathroom door. On the water running. He had Lily on the brain. Every part of him craved her, wanted her.
The water stopped. The bathroom door opened. Lily came out, her hair damp, her body wrapped in a small white towel.
She stared at him as she walked over, then straddled him on the chair.
Ooh boy.
Hadn’t he said she was full of surprises?
“One of us has too many clothes on,” she whispered.
“Yeah, you.” He slowly undid the towel, reveling in every gorgeous naked bit of her.
She undid his belt buckle. Then the snap of his jeans. The zipper came down. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, grabbing a condom from his wallet—he always kept one in there, but he’d brought five for this weekend. Wishful thinking. And good thing he had.
Then they were under the covers, a tangle of arms and legs and hungry lips.
Once again, she rocked his world. That was no longer a surprise.
“I love you,” she whispered as she climaxed, and Xander froze. Just for a second.
But Lily must have felt it because she pulled back a bit, looking at him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to say it—it just burst out of my mouth.”
“Lily, I...”
“Oh, that again,” she said, the look of disappointment so pronounced that he tried to force the words but they still wouldn’t come.
Did he love her? All signs pointed to yes, but then why couldn’t he say so? Why couldn’t he even say so to himself?
He heard her sigh. “I should really be focusing on the next round,” she said. “I’d better get dressed and go in search of some strong coffee. I don’t know what came over me, why I jumped your bones. Let’s forget the whole thing. I’m just running on competition adrenaline. This. Never. Happened.” He’d come to know her so well that he could see she was hiding her misery behind a plastered-on fake smile.
“Lily, I—”
But she’d grabbed some clothes from the closet and shut herself in the bathroom.
Rust Creek Falls Cinderella Page 16