Sausage King: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Crescent, Tara

  It's complete bullshit. If we’re a team, we both need to win.

  Of course.

  We’re a team.

  Why aren’t we acting like one? Why aren’t we competing together?

  Julian’s already in a partnership with Mrs. Shepperd. There’s no way the thought hasn’t occurred to him. Why hasn’t he broached it to me?

  Probably because he doesn’t want to pressure me.

  “Did I ever tell you Vicki wanted to sell her share of the Madison Brewpub?” I ask him casually as I move my stuff over. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I don't think I can manage all three spaces. I think I should look for a partner.”

  His eyes laugh at me. “Do you?”

  The camera is pointed in our direction. They’re filming us. Then there’s most of the town of Madison in the crowd, watching everything we do. My mother’s in the crowd. So are Dominic and Cat. Vicki. Luke and Ruby. Teresa Barbini and her son Gino. Tim Pollard. Elise and Trey.

  I don’t care.

  I’m perfectly aware that I’m going to be the topic of gossip in Madison for months. I don’t care about that either.

  All I care about is Julian King.

  “I don't want to do this without you,” I continue. “Dakota's Pizza doesn't just have to serve pizza. That's just a name.” I bite my lower lip. “It could also serve sausages.”

  “It could,” Julian agrees. “If that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what I want.” I close the distance between us. I ignore the cameras. I ignore the crowds. “Will you be my partner, Julian?”

  His smile feels like the first rays of the morning sun. “I'd be happy to.”

  I put my arms around him and hug him tight. “To be honest,” Julian whispers in my ear. “I thought it it'll be too much commitment for you.”

  “Any second now, I’ll start to freak out. Until then, savor the moment.”

  His chocolate brown eyes are warm and filled with love. “Oh, I intend to.”

  I feel so very lucky. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract.” I wink at him. “Oh wait, you're my lawyer. Julian, will you draw up a contract?”

  He grins. “I feel compelled to point out that you should get an independent opinion.”

  I roll my eyes. “Screw that,” I announce. “I trust you. Shall we shake on it?”

  “I’d rather kiss on it.”

  Sounds good to me. I stand on tiptoe and press my lips to his.

  In the background, the crowd cheers. I barely hear them. I’m in Julian’s arms, and I’m kissing him, and everything is exactly as it should be.

  Rana is Madison’s social media manager, and she’s sensing views, likes, and retweets. Mark Miller is a television producer. He realizes we’ve created a perfect reality TV moment.

  Chef Sarit Onruang’s beaming too, but I think that’s because she’s a secret romantic.

  “We don’t want to compete against each other,” I announce to the judges. “We want to combine teams.”

  “No,” Marvin Hale snaps. “They can’t do that. I protest.”

  “You’re not in charge, Mr. Hale,” Rana responds icily. She’s still mad about his stunt from last week. “Mark, Sarit? Thoughts?”

  “I’m okay with it,” Mark Miller says.

  Chef Onruang nods. “Me too.”

  “Excellent.” Rana rubs her hands together. “Only one of you can cook; it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. And we’ll still have to sort out your budget. But yes. One team.”

  I turn to Julian. “I’ve got this.”

  He kisses me again. “I know you do, Wilde. Go kick some ass, baby.”

  We win, of course. It wasn’t really a fair contest. After that public display of affection, the crowds were rooting for us. Everyone loves a good love story, after all.

  At the end, when the winner is announced, and Julian and I have bowed and waved to the cheering crowds, Julian turns to me. “About that contract,” he says, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Want to go pound out the details?”

  “Pound. Very funny, King.” I wink at him. “I went by the pharmacy yesterday,” I whisper into his ear, trying not to blush. “I bought some lube.”

  For a second, pure shock flashes across his face. It’s remarkably satisfying. Then his eyes flare with heat.

  “You did, did you?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I flutter my eyelashes at him. “I have a hot new boyfriend. He's fascinated with the idea of anal.” My cheeks feel hot. “And I thought, that maybe tonight, we could, you know, go there.”

  He starts to laugh. “Go there?”

  Really? He’s going to make fun of me? I glare at him. “King, do you want to stuff your sausage meat into my…”

  He kisses me before I can finish that sentence. “Dakota,” he says against my lips. “I beg you. No more sausage puns.”

  I give him a mock-astonished look. “No more sausage puns? What will we talk about instead?”

  He puts his hand on my elbow and steers me toward his truck. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Julian and I, we’re never going to be a restful couple. Our life is going to be filled with snark, banter, and adventure.

  It’s going to be amazing.

  Epilogue

  Dakota

  Victoria Day

  It's a holiday weekend, and all three restaurants are packed.

  Teresa has chosen today of all days to get the flu, and so Julian and I are dancing around each other in the kitchen. So far, we've collided into each other twice. There’s been an unfortunate flour incident, and the front of my apron was soaked with tomato sauce.

  All part of a day’s work.

  I wouldn’t change my life for anything.

  It's been a really good year.

  Right after the permit was approved, Ben Watanabe worked in record time to get my new restaurant ready. Opening day went off without a hitch. Every table in both the original space and in the expansion had been occupied.

  Some of that was because of the contest. The First Annual Madison Cook-Off aired on television, and became a sleeper hit. Tourism in Madison is up fifteen percent as a result. Half the town is happy, and the other half grumbles bitterly about never being able to find a parking spot. No surprises there.

  We were never able to prove that it was Roger Wexler who sabotaged the ovens. It doesn’t matter. In the fall elections, he was defeated handily.

  The new councilor, the one who took his seat? Beth Shepperd. The moment she’d announced her decision to run, Wexler knew he’d lose. Everyone in town had heard about the way Roger tried to exploit Mrs. Shepperd. Everyone had remembered, and, even better, they’d turned out to vote. He’s still Madison’s biggest property owner, but he can no longer use his power as a councilor for personal gain. For the next four years, he can’t bother us.

  My mother loves Julian. His parents love me. “Honestly,” Julian grumbles. “They like you more than they like me.”

  He might be right. They’re still sore about the fact that he quit his fancy law firm. Ah well. They’ll eventually get over it.

  I thought it was bitterly unfair that Valentina Grayson had been eliminated from the contest because of the way Marvin Hale had cheated. La Mesa’s food is horrible, but Valentina was a really good cook.

  However, that story had a happy ending as well. Mr. Alvarado, who owns a Mexican restaurant on the outskirts of town had been in the crowd the first day, and he’d tasted her cooking. He found her after the contest and offered her the head chef job in his kitchen. Julian and I are addicted to her tacos, and we eat at Casa Alvarado at least once a week.

  So really, all's well that ends well.

  After the lunch rush is over, I kick Julian out of the kitchen. “Ward’s here. He’s come down this weekend to hang out with you. Go talk to him. I’ll handle things here.”

  I expect a protest, but Julian just kisses me. “Don’t be too long,” he says. “Samir and Kevin can handle things.”

  He’s right. Both my line cooks are cal
m and unflappable, and perfectly capable of handling things without me. “I might be a bit of a control freak.”

  He laughs quietly. “Shocker. I’d have never guessed.”

  “Sarcasm is the last refuge of a weak mind,” I tell him loftily.

  His lips twitch. “Personally,” he says. “I find Dostoyevsky a colossal bore.” He kisses me again, his hand cupping my neck and pulling me closer. Hurry.”

  My nerve endings tingle from that kiss. My body throbs in anticipation. “I won’t be long.”

  Vicki sticks her head in the kitchen. “Do you need a hand?” she asks.

  I wave her in. “Yes, desperately. Want to stay for the summer? You could run the place, and Julian and I could take a vacation?”

  She walks in and puts on a hairnet and an apron. “Very funny,” she says. “Sorry. You’re on your own.”

  She’s laughing as she says it, but there are shadows in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask her as I make a quick roux. How the hell did we run out of alfredo in the middle of the lunch rush? Don’t ask me. At the end of the long weekend, I’m going to have to go Gordon Ramsey on someone’s ass. This is prep, damn it. We shouldn’t be doing it in the middle of lunch service.

  Vicki sees what I’m doing, and helpfully chops a bunch of parsley, her movements smooth and practiced. “Guy trouble, of course,” she says wearily. “What else?”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Will’s getting married.”

  I stop adding cream to the sauce and turn to look at her. “Will, the guy you’ve secretly been in love with for more than ten years, is getting married?”

  “I haven’t been in love with him for more than ten years.”

  I beg to disagree. I’ve heard her talk about him. From what I’ve pieced together, the two of them have been friends for the longest time. They’ve never been single at the same time. The windows have never lined up.

  “Have you told him how you feel about him?”

  “No, of course not. He’s engaged, Dakota. This isn’t a sitcom. It’s not romantic to break up a relationship; it’s a dick move.” She takes a deep breath. “There was this one moment where I thought we had something…”

  “Then what happened?”

  “It got complicated. Now, he’s engaged to someone else.” She shrugs helplessly. “It’s just so sudden. I didn’t even think he was dating anyone.”

  She’s going to cry into the parsley, and then I’ll have to throw out the bunch and start over. I rescue the herbs before that happens. “Tell him how you feel.”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “Weren’t you the one that told me I needed to have more faith? Didn’t you say you wanted what Dom and Cat have?”

  She doesn’t reply. I want to push, but I take one look at her face, back off, and change the topic. “Did Julian tell you the latest sales numbers?”

  Julian bought out Vicki’s stake in the Madison Brewpub. Well, I guess we both did, since we’re partners. He took over their operation, tweaked the menu, and kept things on track. Sales are up twenty percent. Of course. The guy’s never run a restaurant before, and he wanders in and makes everything better.

  She forces a smile on her face. “As soon as I walked through the door. I like Julian, Dakota, you know I do. He’s a great guy. But twenty percent? I wanted to punch him.”

  I laugh out loud. I know exactly how Vicki feels. “Welcome to my world. If he wasn’t my boyfriend, he’d be the most irritating guy in the world.”

  He’s the best guy in the world.

  Julian is often smug. Of course, he is.

  I call him a cocky asshole a lot. Of course, I do.

  We are deliriously happy.

  Of course, we are.

  Epilogue

  Julian

  “You look really nervous, buddy.” Ward gives me a lazy grin. “Don't worry. She’ll probably say yes. You haven’t done anything to annoy her this morning, have you?”

  Over Christmas, Dixie finally broke up with Charles. Ward, never one to waste a perfectly good opportunity, had swooped in immediately. The two of them are now together. On the surface, they seem like polar opposites. Ward’s an anally tidy accountant, and Dixie is a personal chef who seems to exist in a perpetual state of controlled chaos, but they’re actually great together. They balance each other out.

  Dixie’s come down this weekend too. She’s chatting with Vicki, who is also in town, visiting Cat and Dominic. It’s one hell of a party. Everyone’s here.

  I just want ten minutes alone with Dakota.

  “I bumped into her, drenching her with tomato sauce.”

  Ward laughs. Asshole. “You think this is funny, do you?” My eyes narrow. “One day, you’ll find yourself in my shoes. Remind me to laugh in your face.”

  He pats my back. “You really not sure what her answer is going to be?”

  No, I’m not. We’re had conversations about getting married, and we’re on the same page about this. Neither Dakota nor I want children, but we both believe in marriage. The guys that propose on the Jumbotron at stadiums, when they have no idea what their girlfriends’ reactions are going to be? Those guys are fools. This is the biggest decision of my life. Of course, I’m going to make sure my girlfriend feels the same way I do.

  Forty-five minutes later, Dakota emerges from the kitchen and collapses into a seat. “Tell me the worst of the lunch rush is over,” she groans.

  “The worst of the lunch rush is over.” I wink at her. “Did you remember to eat, Wilde?”

  She gives me a disbelieving look. “Did I look like I had time to eat?”

  Excellent. Walk into my trap, sweetheart. “I packed a cooler for us. Think you can get away for ten minutes?” I give her my best persuasive look. It works on juries, it works on judges, and it works on her.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Maybe twenty,” I hedge.

  She makes a face. “Go get some fresh air,” Ward urges her. “If there’s a crisis, they’ll call you. And we’re not going anywhere; Dixie wants to try everything on the menu. We’ll still be here when you get back.”

  I take back all the mean things I’ve ever said about Lewington. He’s a stand-up guy.

  “Okay.” She gives me a brilliant smile. “Let’s go eat.”

  We drive out to Haslem Lake. It’s a little chilly. Warm enough in the sun, but the end of May is not picnic weather in Madison. We have the place to ourselves. I open the cooler and hand her a hot dog. “Big enough for you, baby?” I tease.

  “I’m starving. I’m going to devour your meat, King.” She leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Do you know, it’s our anniversary today? Two years ago, we hooked up for the first time.” She giggles. “Is it weird that I’m celebrating the day we hooked up?”

  “It’s not weird at all. But, on that note…” I pull the small jeweler’s box out of my pocket. “If you want to make it official?”

  Her eyes go wide.

  I flip it open and extract the ring and hold it out to her. “Will you marry me, Dakota Wilde?”

  She doesn't say anything. I fill the space with nervous words. “The ring was my grandmother's. It’s a sapphire. I thought, since you don’t really like diamonds, that this would work better. My father sent it down. But if you don't like it, we can change it.”

  She holds up her hand. “Stop talking, Julian. I'm trying not to cry.” She throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. “The ring is beautiful. Of course, I'll marry you.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and slip the ring on her finger. It fits her perfectly. It’s like this was meant to be.

  Dakota brushes away her tears. “So, what you’re saying is, you want to stuff your sausage in my casing forever.”

  “That is awful.”

  She giggles. “It is awful. Hang on, I’m going to think of another one.”

  “Dakota,” I say, kissing her to shut her up. “Stop the awful puns and kiss me back.”
<
br />   She’s mine. I’m hers. For the rest of our lives. I am the luckiest guy in the world.

  I don’t mean to brag—okay, who am I kidding, I’m totally bragging—but the King always wins.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading Dakota and Julian’s story! I hope you love them as much as I do.

  WANT MORE ROM-COM? If you enjoyed meeting Cat and Dominic in this story, don’t miss Hard Wood! It’s a full-length steamy romantic comedy featuring a hot-as-hell carpenter (Dominic!), a spunky, sassy brewer (Cat!), carpenter puns (screw and hammer, tongue and groove, nail gun), and loads of steam. Flip the page for an extended preview of Hard Wood.

  * * *

  Do you enjoy fun, light, contemporary romances with lots of heat and humor? Want to read Boyfriend by the Hour (A Romantic Comedy) for free? Want to stay up-to-date on new releases, freebies, sales, and more? (There will be an occasional cat picture.) Sign up to my newsletter! You’ll get the book right away, and unless I have a very important announcement—like a new release—I only email once a week.

  A Preview of Hard Wood by Tara Crescent

  Cat Milnick’s Summer To-Do List

  Get my new brewpub up and running.

  Ignore the wickedly handsome Dom Wilde and his kinky furniture.

  No more carpenter puns. Screw and hammer. Tongue and groove. Nail gun.

  Focus on the beer.

  Remember: If I fail, I’ll have to go back to working for my evil ex-boyfriend.

  Don’t get turned on when Dom calls me his little spitfire in his sexy, smoky growl.

  And above all, don’t get too attached to his...ahem...‘hard wood.’

  * * *

  Dom:

  Alone in my workshop, I turn up the volume on the radio and resume work on the set of custom cabinets I’m making for Jan Patterson’s new kitchen. I lose track of time. Three, maybe four hours pass. The radio’s hyped-up morning show hosts finish their shift, and a slower, mellower mid-morning crew takes over, playing classic rock. I’m humming along to Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir when the door bursts open, and a woman marches in, indignation oozing out of every pore in her body.