“Here’s how this is gonna work.” Mary nodded at a group of volunteers waiting to the side, and they came forward. “Each of our captains made enough of his dishes for everyone to have a sample, along with the tasting plate for the judge. Our volunteers will hand you a small cup of each dish and a comment card. After you’ve tried them all, please rank them in order of preference. Don’t worry; your vote will be completely anonymous. We will tally the results and, with the judge’s selection for Best Bite, the captain with the most votes will be announced the People’s Choice. Make sense?”
The crowd rumbled their assent. As the volunteers handed out small plastic containers of his étouffée, Jason began prepping his tasting plate for the mysterious brunette.
Who was she? He scooped a mound of steaming white rice on the plate. On the off chance he had slept with her, or had met her in some other way in the past, he didn’t think he should ask for her name. Women tended to prefer you remembering that sort of thing.
Was it okay to flirt with her? The woman was beautiful; regardless of how or if they’d met in the past, there was nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting, was there? He dipped the ladle into his étouffée and caught her smoky gaze. As if I could help myself anyway.
After wiping the edges of his plate clean, and adding a slice of bread and sprig of parsley for presentation, Jason made his way toward the judge’s table.
“So, Captain Landry.” Was it his imagination, or did her voice lilt in amusement at his title? “Can you tell me about your dish?”
“Well, ma’am,” Jason began, wincing as unfamiliar discomfort prompted his ingrained Southern manners. No sexy woman wants to be ma’amed, which she proved when her cute nose wrinkled. Forging ahead, he put his and Emma’s countless Chopped program viewing to use and said, “Today I prepared for you Crawfish Étouffée, served over jasmine rice, with a slice of warm garlic French bread.” He smiled at his aspiring chef daughter and added, “Bon appétit.”
…
Colby turned to glance at the dozens of women hanging on Jason’s every word, curious as to which one of them was the lucky recipient of his sexy smile. When they were growing up, she used to dream about him flashing it at her one day. But not in the friendly, how-ya-doing-squirt, or the I’m-your-brother’s-best-friend way he did back then. And not even the respectful you’re-the-judge-so-I-want-to-impress-you way he did today. But in an I-find-you-extremely-sexy sort of way. An I-actually-see-you-as-a-woman way.
An I-wanna-get-you-naked way.
Colby choked on the peppery bite she’d just placed in her mouth.
Where in the heck had that thought come from?
Jason sprang into action, like the knight in hero’s armor he’d always been, rushing to hand her a bottle of water. Colby uncapped it and quickly downed half its contents. Sure, the man—or rather, the boy he once was—had filled the pages of her childhood diary, and not all of her whimsical fantasies had been PG-rated. But the last time she’d even come close to getting naked with a man was more than three years ago. A very long three years ago.
Colby looked up into Jason’s concerned brown eyes, glanced at the scar slashing his left eyebrow, and took another long gulp.
“Are you all right?” He squatted down beside her chair, the fabric of his dark blue uniform pants stretching taut over his thighs. The Louisiana heat skyrocketed.
She nodded, and with a self-deprecating laugh he asked, “Was it my cooking?”
“No, it was my fault,” she answered, searching his handsome face for any sign that he knew who she was. “It just went down the wrong way.”
He lifted his hand and then hesitated, hovering it in mid-air until finally placing it over hers in an obvious gesture of comfort. Colby swallowed against the energy zinging up her arm. Tall and dark with piercing eyes and an easy smile, young Jason had set more than just her heart fluttering back in the day. But the man he’d grown into was simply devastating.
Strong, work-roughened fingers encircled her slender wrist. Her eyelids flickered. This small, innocent touch was the most action she’d gotten in a while. Then the thick pad of Jason’s thumb grazed across her skin moments before his nail rasped the tender flesh near her pulse. Her insides clenched. Looking up, she saw unmistakable attraction flash in his toffee-colored eyes. And then his hand was gone.
“Good,” he finally said, pushing to his feet. “I’d hate to be the one responsible for poisoning the judge.” He slid her one of his signature sexy, lopsided grins and headed back to his side of the table.
Colby couldn’t believe it. He actually didn’t recognize her. She knew it had been almost eight years since she’d last seen him at her mother’s funeral, when she’d looked like the living dead, but she hadn’t changed that much since they were kids. At least she didn’t think she had.
He certainly hadn’t.
Under the tailored MSFD uniform shirt, Jason’s back muscles flexed as he walked away. Yeah, he was older. His shoulders were broader, his waist trimmer. His backside filled out his uniform pants in a way that had her wanting to squeeze it. But he was still Jason. She remembered when he’d gotten that slash above his eyebrow. She was there when he broke his nose in her driveway. Well, being a girl and three years younger, she had observed most of it from the window seat in her bedroom, but she was there.
From a few feet over, Mary discreetly cleared her throat, reminding Colby of where she was. With reluctance, she slid her eyes away from Jason’s delectable ass and glanced at the large crowd seemingly hanging on their every exchanged word. It wasn’t that their banter so far had been overtly flirtatious, but for some reason it felt like it was.
This is why I stay in the kitchen, she thought, picking up her fork and spearing a plump crawfish tail. In public, it’s only a matter of time until I make an idiot of myself…or drool all over hot firemen.
“This is quite delicious,” she told the smoldering firefighter before her, taking another small bite.
And really, objectionably she knew that it was, although that’s where the real irony of today came into play. The local fare may’ve been a staple of her diet growing up, and as a chef, Colby could still appreciate the cuisine’s signature spicy burst of flavor, but she hadn’t personally touched the stuff since she was eighteen. And nothing even remotely Cajun was on her restaurant menu back in Vegas.
It wasn’t that the food wouldn’t sell—she knew it would. Hell, people asked her about it whenever they heard where she was from. But Colby could never handle the sting of memories that preparing it conjured. The rush of emotion that came with the distinct aroma. Yet here she was, temporary acting head chef at an established Cajun restaurant in the metropolitan area she’d vowed never to return to, and judging a festival celebrating the very cuisine she’d left behind.
Her big brother so owed her.
But the flavors Jason created were perfectly balanced, with a nice burst of peppery goodness at the end. It brought her right back to the days in her father’s kitchen, and it was obvious he had a skillful hand.
“You cooked your roux down perfectly.” She licked a dollop of sauce off her top lip. “You made your own stock from the shells, didn’t you?”
His intent stare, which had been glued to her mouth as she ate, lifted at her question. “Yeah, I did,” he said, obviously taken aback. “That’s impressive. Although, I guess it’s your job to know that kind of thing, right?”
She set down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It is, but there’s also an undeniable difference between étouffée prepared with homemade stock, and étouffée without it.” She smiled. “It’s a whole lot quicker to leave it out, or to go with the stuff you can buy in a store. But in my experience, it’s always better to take your time and do it right.”
Jason’s ready grin widened into a wicked smile and she could feel herself blushing at the potential double meaning of her words. It was almost surreal. She was flirting with the man who’d starred in every childhood fantasy she ever
had—in public no less. And he was flirting right back. Had someone told her preteen or even teenage self that there would be a day Jason Landry came on to her, Colby never would’ve believed it. A few minutes ago, her adult self would’ve said it didn’t matter because she’d sworn off men when she was eighteen. But the reality of it happening, even if he didn’t know who she was—or maybe because he didn’t—was just too tempting to ignore.
Any minute now, he’d figure it out. Cane had promised he’d stop by, and if seeing his best friend there didn’t clue Jason in, she was sure Mary would announce her name eventually. But until then, Colby figured she might as well have a little fun…for her young self’s sake, of course.
“Well done, Captain Landry,” she said, instinctively lowering her voice to a more obvious coquettish tone. Inwardly, she cringed at the pathetic attempt at flirting. It really has been too long. Jason took a step forward and she looked up at him through her lashes, her brain apparently embracing the pathetic. “Obviously this isn’t your first rodeo.”
Jason’s firm mouth twitched. “I know my way around a kitchen.”
She had no doubt there were several rooms the man knew his way around.
Clicking the button on the top of her ballpoint pen, she bit back a smile. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you, Captain.”
Jason bowed his head and slowly backed away from the table, brown eyes never leaving hers. The giddy rush of feminine power running through her veins, along with a heady dose of sexual attraction, was unlike anything she’d felt in years. It really was too bad it would all end the moment he discovered who she was.
Reluctantly, Colby broke the toe-tingling eye contact. She jotted down a few notes about the dish, as if she’d ever forget, and Mary called Captain Morris to the table. But as much as the good-looking man tried flirting with her, and as appealing as his dish was, her gaze kept transferring back to Jason.
At the end of the competition, after all the crowd’s votes had been tallied, Captain Dufrene had been announced as the People’s Choice. Eric lifted his award plaque high in the air, and then everyone quieted to hear which dish would be crowned Best Bite.
As Mary accepted the slip of paper she’d written the winner’s name on, Colby caught sight of her brother weaving through the crowd. Cane always did have impeccable timing.
The woman silently read the result, then smiled at the crowd. “All of our contestants today should be proud. Not only did they do a fabulous job representing their districts, and help raise money for a very important program, but their food was tasted by one of our country’s leading female chefs—and a Magnolia Springs native.”
The crowd murmured as Cane plopped into an empty chair beside her. “Looks like I got here just in time,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear. “Who did you pick?”
Colby didn’t answer. She was too busy watching Jason mentally put the puzzle pieces together. His befuddled gaze moved from her to her brother and to Mary, then back again. His eyes narrowed…and then widened. Bingo.
“That’s right,” Mary continued, as if talking directly to Colby’s childhood crush. “Our own Colby Robicheaux left her fancy Vegas digs and can now be found back where she belongs. Right here, at a certain local family restaurant we all know and love.”
Beside her, Cane reached out and squeezed Colby’s shoulder. Jason pressed a fisted hand to his mouth, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.
“And for today’s Best Bite, Colby has chosen…drum roll, if you please.” The crowd quickly granted her request and after a few moments of simulated beats, Mary proclaimed, “Magnolia Springs Captain Jason Landry and his delicious étouffée! Congratulations, Captain. Come and collect your prize!”
Chapter Two
So little Colby Robicheaux wasn’t so little anymore.
That’s the thought that ran through Jason’s head as he accepted his plaque and thanked the crowd. He nodded in gratitude and slid his best friend a smile. Since Cane returned it, Jason assumed he must’ve missed seeing him hit on his little sister…but from the knowing looks their neighbors sent in his direction, Cane was the only one. And the beauty of living in a small town meant it was only a matter of time before someone filled him in.
As Jason gathered his things together, he replayed their flirtation and cringed. Why in the hell hadn’t he recognized her sooner? Growing up, he’d practically been an honorary Robicheaux. He lost track of the amount of family vacations he’d tagged along on, the holidays he’d crashed, and the nights he’d spent sleeping on their couch. Colby was the kid sister who followed him around, not a woman with smoky eyes and a wicked smile that tempted him to do things he had no business thinking.
When was the last time he’d seen her? She’d come in for her father’s funeral a few months ago, but the memorial had been for family only. The man hadn’t wanted anything traditional, just his ashes spread at his favorite fishing spot in Lafitte, so the three siblings had done it privately. Then Colby had turned right back around for her fancy restaurant in Vegas. That would make it at least seven or eight years.
He stole a glance at the judge’s table. Colby stood there with Cane, listening as Mary droned on about something or other and then led them toward the Magnolia Springs food booth. Her hair was longer, her wardrobe much better than it used to be. He grinned, remembering a few of her former fashion disasters, swinging from her obsession with the movie Clueless to her love affair with Kurt Cobain. And adult Colby’s body…well, from the way the suit clung to her curves, she had definitely grown up from the sixteen-year-old he’d left behind when he went to college. But watching her and her brother walk side by side, the resemblance between them was obvious.
A pair of skinny arms wrapped around his waist a moment before his daughter’s head plowed into his stomach. “Way to go, Dad! I knew those suckers didn’t have a chance.”
Jason winked at Gavin and Eric over Emma’s head. “How could I lose with such an amazing sous-chef?” He placed a kiss atop her ponytail. “I believe it was your idea to add a homemade stock to the recipe.”
“You can’t shortcut taste,” she said wisely. She stepped out of the embrace and pushed herself up onto the table. “So, was that really Uncle Cane’s sister?”
Jason glanced back to where he’d last seen them at the booth and winced. Being her godfather, Cane was always referred to as Emma’s uncle. But somehow hearing the term of affection now just made what he did seem worse. “Yep, that was Colby.”
She squealed. “And she’s really a big-city chef who left her restaurant to come here?” Jason nodded again, and his aspiring-chef daughter nearly bounced off the table. “That is so cool!”
He couldn’t help laughing at her enthusiasm. And she was right. Despite the stickiness of the situation, Colby coming back was very good news. Cane had been living under a mountain of stress being in charge of a thriving restaurant that no longer had a head chef. He’d gone through several failed hires since their father died two months ago, all while trying to keep the restaurant running. Having Colby back would ease the strain and, hopefully, help make Robicheaux’s profitable again.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of his daughter’s head. “I guess that is pretty cool.”
Emma batted him away with a groaned, “Dad,” then squealed again when they announced her favorite group, the Joey Thomas Band, was taking the stage. Throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a peck on the cheek, she muttered another quick, “Congratulations,” and then ran to the stage.
“If only they could bottle that energy,” he said to himself, watching her make her way to the front. After ensuring she was safe with a group of friends and standing in plain sight, Jason turned back to the row of booths. But Cane and Colby had disappeared.
He ran a hand over his face. It was almost funny. The one woman actually to get his blood pumping again—the first in he didn’t even know how long—and she ended up being completely off-limits. As far as his luck went, that se
emed about right.
It wasn’t just that she was Cane’s little sister, although that did pretty much kill it right there. He could only imagine how that conversation would go. Hey man, your sister’s hot. Mind if I take her for a spin? No. Just no.
And it wasn’t just that Jason had been there when Colby got her first zit or that he accidently saw her naked when she was in junior high. It wasn’t even that he was one of the many people she had left behind so easily all those years ago, or that he knew how much her desertion affected her family.
The biggest reason Colby was a no-go was Emma.
Jason looked back at the stage. If he’d learned anything from all his recent late-night reading, it was that his daughter needed a solid female presence in her life. Sure, his mom did an amazing job, helping as often as she could and keeping her during his twenty-four-hour shifts. But the best grandparenting in the world couldn’t replace having a day-to-day woman in the house. A mother she could talk to about boys. Help her pick out a bra and makeup. And know what the hell a loofah was used for. Jason had been good with little girl Emma. He could handle cuts and scrapes and training wheels. But an Emma on the verge of womanhood? A teenager with questions about hormones and boys and sex? That mess scared the crap out of him.
When Ashleigh died four years ago, getting remarried was the last thing on Jason’s mind. Falling in love again still was. His high school sweetheart had been the undisputed love of his life and no woman could ever replace her. But having a partner, a friend, someone to share his day with and be a role model for Emma wouldn’t be so bad.
The starry-eyed girl he’d grown up with, though, would never settle for something like that. She would want more, and deserved more, than the loveless, convenient-marriage life he was offering. Even if her big brother didn’t kick the shit out of him for thinking it—which he would, so the point was moot anyway. Jason couldn’t waste his time on flirtation and dating, and he wasn’t willing to risk his heart again, which left him and his best friend’s sister at an impasse.
Taste the Heat Page 2