Some Like It Spicy (20 page)

Tears welled in her eyes, tears she couldn’t help. She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat, so she just nodded.

That was all the invitation he needed.

…

It felt like an eternity since they’d been together, and Ty had to actually tell himself to slow down. His body begged to plunge inside her, foreplay be damned, but his brain—and heart—wanted to prolong this night for as long as possible.

Forever.

He’d fallen in love with her. He knew it as surely as he knew the grass was green and the sky was blue. She was smart and fierce and challenged him in a way no woman ever had.

All the reasons they’d kept their relationship a secret hadn’t changed, and he didn’t know how either of them would escape with their reputations intact. But he knew what they had was worth the risk. He just needed to convince her.

Later. Now, he needed to get her naked before he exploded.

He’d already removed her shirt, and now he worked on her pants, sliding them, along with her silk black panties, down and off. The light from the full moon reflected off her perfect body, and he groaned in appreciation. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Even in the dim light, he could see her blush. “Compared to who?”

Now his groan was for another reason, as he shook his head. “You’re incomparable.”

She laughed. “You Southerners sure can sling the crap.”

“It’s the truth.” He kissed the tip of her nose, her chin, her collarbone, and then the tip of each breast.

She gasped as he flicked at her hardened nipples and gripped his hair. “I almost believe you.”

“Before the night is over, you will,” he promised.

He set out to show her his love in a way he couldn’t voice. She wasn’t ready to hear the words yet; maybe she would never be. But he could show her.

He lavished attention on her breasts, cupping, sucking, teasing. Then, he traced a line with his tongue down to her navel, swirling it around her belly button and watching with pleasure as her abdomen clenched and pulsated.

The change into September hadn’t altered the balmy heat, even this late at night, and her skin began to glow with sweat. His palms slid on her slick, straining skin to cup her bottom. He lifted her, like a feast, and he a starving man.

At the first touch of his lips to her center, she cried out, softly and sweetly. As he added more pressure, as his tongue flicked inside her, the cries turned throaty and frantic.

“Ty,” Ashton cried in a strangled voice. Her hands were like vises on his head; he’d need superpowers to get free. She fell back against the blankets, arching further into his mouth. “God, you feel so good. Don’t—ahhh—stop!”

He had no intention of stopping, not with her writhing beneath him and crying out his name like a chant. Instead, he opened her wider, adding one finger, then two. He could feel her clenching around him as he stroked steadily. When he used his tongue to flick at her nub, she went wild, letting out her release in a deep, shaking cry.

He sat back on his haunches as he watched and waited for her body to still. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open. As her chest heaved up and down in exhausted breaths, beads of sweat dripped down her body.

She was a vision of beauty.

And she was his.

“Did I die?” she whispered, peeking open one eye.

“Nope.” He chuckled but then corrected himself. “Maybe for a minute.”

Her amazing blue eyes locked on him. “If that’s heaven, I’ll die any day.” She curled her index finger toward her. “Come here.”

After quickly covering himself with a condom, Ty crawled over her, careful not to ease his weight on her completely. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and kissed him more deeply, with more emotion, than she ever had before.

Her hands slid over his damp back, down to his buttocks. He loved the feel of her hands—scarred and rough, the way a chef’s hands were meant to be. They urged him on, urging him to plunge deep inside her.

So he did.

Her hips rose to meet him and they caught a rhythm together. His head dropped to her shoulder as he moved in her body. Her hands were still on his bottom, her fingernails digging half-moons on his skin. It was different this time: not frantic, not impatient, not sleepy. Just their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

And when his orgasm rolled through him, he knew he would never feel as perfect, as content, as he did in that moment.

That, he supposed, was the difference between making love and fucking.

He collapsed to her side, swinging an arm and leg over her, his face buried against her frantically beating pulse.

“Was it my”—
Gasp
—“imagination”—another gasp from Ashton—“or was that even better than usual?”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah, it was pretty damn good.” He could have told her why, but he knew she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. He didn’t want to freak her out, send her screaming as far away from him as possible.

“Wow,” she panted. “Really, wow. Forget being a celebrity chef; you could teach a class in this.”

“Be careful,” he warned. “You don’t want to inflate my ego any bigger than it already is.”

“Is it even possible to get any bigger?” She stroked his arm and back and then began to wander.

When her hand found its way between his legs, he hardened instantly.

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He looked down, and then put a hand on himself to be sure. “Seriously.”

In a swift motion, he rolled over, taking her with him until she was on top, like a cowgirl riding a bull.

One of her eyebrows rose skyward and there was a quirky slant to her lips. “Seriously?” she repeated. “Again?”

He flexed his hips and then he was inside her. “Yup,” he confirmed. “Seems pretty serious to me.”

She dropped her hands to his chest as her head rolled back. “This is seriously good.”

Suddenly, she jerked her head up and froze.

“What?” he asked through clenched teeth, fighting the need to thrust into her moist depths.

Her eyes frantically searched around them. “Did you hear that?” she whispered intensely.

“Hear what?” Oh God, if she kept jiggling like that, he was going to come without her. He put his hands on her hips to still her.

“Footsteps.”

He tilted his head side to side, straining to hear the sounds of crackling leaves or broken branches. But there was nothing.

“I don’t hear anything,” he told her. “It’s probably just an animal.”

Damn, that was just as scary. Now her eyes were as large as saucers.

“Animal?” she squeaked. “Like what?”

She made a move, as if to climb off him, so he quickly rolled again, returning her beneath him.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, thrusting deeply. “I’ll protect you.”

Her head rolled back as she arched against him. “You’d rather die than stop, wouldn’t you?”

He whirled her around so she was on top again. “Let me take you back to heaven.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Ashton, wake up.” Jolene banged a hand against the door of the tent.

Ashton rolled over and pulled the sleeping bag up to her shoulders. “Go away.”

The flap of the tent blew open, sending rays of sun directly into Ashton’s face. Even with clenched eyes, the light was blinding and she pulled her pillow over her face.

“I guess you didn’t get much sleep, either,” Jolene commiserated. “I can’t decide if campers are masochists or just hate themselves. Why else would someone voluntarily sleep on the ground?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton murmured. Her tiredness wasn’t due to tossing and turning all night. Well, it was, but not the kind Jolene was talking about. Ashton had tossed and turned with Ty until four in the morning.

“Sally said we’re starting in a half hour,” Jolene told her. “I’m not looking forward to shopping in people’s RVs. I’ll probably end up with canned soup again.” She made a face. “Yuck.”

“No, there will be—” Ashton cut herself off. She’d almost admitted to Jolene that food had been planted. Of course, then Jolene would want to know how Ashton had gotten that information. An uncomfortable pain bounced in her chest.

Jolene gaped at her expectantly. “There’ll be…what?”

“Never mind. We should get ready.” Ashton forced any guilt out of her mind. Ty hadn’t given her any insider knowledge that would cause an unfair advantage. She didn’t know what food would be available, just that it had been placed in there.

Jolene ducked out of the tent, and Ashton shimmied into her jeans and a tank top. The temperature was supposed to be in the eighties today, and if she had to cook outside, she wanted as little between her chef’s jacket and skin as possible.

She left the tent and walked toward the campfire, praying someone had put on a pot of coffee. As she scanned the group of people scurrying around the area, she saw the catering cart.

“Thank you, God!” Ashton headed toward the cart with tunnel vision. She poured herself a cup of the blissful brew, inhaling the robust scent. The cart also had Danishes, and she grabbed a strawberry-flavored one.

Jolene joined her, sipping a bottle of water. The door of the RV opened and Duffy sauntered out, stretching his arms above his head and smiling.

“How’d you ladies fare last night?” he asked. “I slept like a baby.”

Ashton scowled at him. “I slept great, too,” she lied. “Best night’s sleep ever.”

“Me, too,” Jolene chimed in.

Duffy just laughed. “Good. Then when I beat you today, you can’t claim it was unfair.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Ashton shot back.

Duffy still had an amused look on his face. “Someone’s crabby today.”

“Chefs!” Sally yelled across the campsite. “I need you now!”

Reluctantly, Ashton let go of her coffee and moved to Sally. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ty approach, talking to Andrea. There were no signs of fatigue on his face, no lines or bags that indicated he’d done anything last night other than sleep. It wasn’t fair, she decided. The bags under her eyes made her look like she hadn’t slept since lard had been the cooking fat of choice.

The night had been worth it, though. The connection between them had been stronger than she’d ever felt with any other man. It was too corny to say out loud, but at one point, she had felt as if they’d melded into one soul. The word
love
had bubbled inside her, begging to burst free, but she had held back. She’d never said the words to a man. Besides, this was just a fling for him. They’d made rules, and she wasn’t going to be the one to break them.

“Ashton, are you listening?”

Startled, she looked at Sally, who stared back intently. “Sorry, what?”

Sally let out a huge sigh. “Let’s start again, and this time, please pay attention.” She looked pointedly at Ashton. “The RVs you’ll be shopping from are about a half mile from here, so we’ll be driving there. The campers know to expect you, but you’ll still have to knock on the doors. Don’t just burst in. You’ll have a half hour to shop. Then you’ll come back here and have two hours to prep and cook. Got it?”

Ashton nodded, as did Jolene and Duffy.

“Clint,” Sally snapped at the cameraman who stood ten steps away. “Will you be working today, or would you rather finish your phone call?”

Clint glanced at the group, but Ashton swore his gaze fell on her, not Sally. He said something else into the phone before snapping it shut. “Sorry.”

“All right,” Sally said. “Let’s hit the road.”

Ashton began walking. She was halfway to the van when she felt a presence beside her. Tilting her head to the side, she saw Ty.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How’re you doing?”

She felt her cheeks heat, and she wished she could blame it on the increasing temperature outside, rather than her body. “I’m good. Did you have any problems sneaking into the RV?”

She saw Ty give a slight shake of his head. “Claude sleeps with a night mask, earplugs, a white-noise machine, and a bottle of Ambien. You and I could have had wild monkey sex right next to him and he wouldn’t have heard.”

“Hmm. Maybe next time,” she whispered back with a small smile. “Maybe we should fix up Claude and Jolene. Throw in a seaweed mask and they have the same nighttime ritual.”

“Personally, I think we had the better night,” he said huskily.

“Easy for you to say. You look like you had ten hours of sleep. I look like a hag.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? Great sex relaxes me.” He leaned in closer. “And you don’t look like a hag. You look delicious enough to eat.”

She fanned herself with one hand. Was it a hundred degrees out here? “I’d think after last night you’d be full.”

“There’s always room for dessert.”

Without thinking, she smacked him across the chest. She’d meant it to be playful, but when she heard Sally snap a sharp, “Ashton,” she gasped and backed away.

“Sorry, Chef,” she said to Ty, suddenly aware of the many sets of eyes that were on the two of them. She searched her brain for an explanation. “But I disagree that hanger is too tough a cut of meat. A well-trained chef, with careful preparation, can keep it tender.”

Ty hid his amusement behind a cough. “I apologize, Chef Grey. I will never disparage hanger steaks again.”

“Good,” she said and then turned and climbed in the van. She was relieved that Ty stayed at the campsite along with the other judges, and only she, Jolene, Duffy, and the crew were taken to the RVs. To win this challenge she needed to concentrate.

They arrived to a campsite overlooking a man-made lake, with seven campers parked.

“Chefs, you have a half hour starting now.” Sally pressed the button on the stopwatch.

Ashton dashed out of the van and ran to the farthest RV, figuring Duffy and Jolene would go to the closest. She wanted to have a little time to consider her options without worrying one of them was going to snatch food from right under her nose.

She knew she didn’t want to do something predictable, like steak or fish. The challenge was for a gourmet campfire meal, and she didn’t want to go for the easy dish.

As soon as she knocked on the door to the RV, it opened, as if the “owner” had been anticipating her arrival.

“Welcome!” a robust woman with big blond hair and an even bigger smile greeted her. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” Ashton replied, stepping past her. She wanted to be friendly, but she was on a deadline. “Can you show me what you have in the kitchen?”

“Oh, sure,” the woman said, squeezing past Ashton to lead her to the back of the RV. One of the assistant cameramen followed behind Ashton—this kitchen just wasn’t big enough for three of them.

The woman opened a small refrigerator and began pulling out the contents. Various cuts of meat, salmon, duck. Ashton studied her choices, sniffing for freshness. She immediately eliminated steak and salmon, sticking with her plan to execute something a little more difficult. Duck had possibility, but cooking it was tricky. It often came out dry, and she wasn’t willing to take that big of a risk.

“I’m going to look in a few other RVs before I make my choice,” she said.

The woman’s face dropped.

“I may be back,” Ashton said, which perked the woman up instantly.

Ashton left the RV and ran to the next closest one. Across the clearing, she saw Duffy come out of an RV carrying a bag; she couldn’t see what was in it.

In the next RV, she found ground buffalo, ribs, and lamb. On impulse, she grabbed the lamb. She had never cooked lamb over a campfire, but she knew she could do something special and unique with it.

The menu built in her head as she searched ingredients in the other RVs. When the half hour was up, she knew she had a great dish planned. Now she just had to execute it.

“How’d it go?” Jolene asked as she climbed in the van next to Ashton.

“I got lamb,” she told Jolene. “You?”

“Fish,” she replied, then sighed. “I know I always do fish, and it probably seems like I’m playing safe, but most of the choices were pretty unhealthy. I need to stay true to my mission, which is making healthy food taste great.”

“I don’t think you’re playing it safe,” Ashton told her. “Fish is hard to cook in these conditions.”

Jolene’s lip lifted. She turned her head to look in the backseat, where Duffy sat, whistling. “How about you?”

“Duck,” he answered. “And it’s going to be fantastic.”

It very well could be, and if he pulled it off, that meant Jolene or Ashton was on her way home.

Familiar nerves jumbled in her belly as they drove back to the campsite.

Ashton climbed out of the van, bags in hand, and saw that three stations had been set up—thankfully under a cover so they wouldn’t have the hot sun beating down on them. There were also three campfires so each chef would have his or her own.

“Chefs,” Sally said, “you have two hours starting now.”

Ashton ran to a station with her name on it and set down the bags. The first thing she did was make a garlic-rosemary marinade for the lamb. The lamb would only need minimal time to cook, so she put the lamb and marinade in a cooler to keep them from spoiling. She also had a dozen apples to peel, core, and chop for her fried apples, but she didn’t want to do it too early and have them brown. So, she put together her makeshift grill out of pots. She wanted to be able to enclose the meat during part of the cooking.

With an hour remaining, Ty stopped by each of the chef’s stations. Hers was last. “What are you making today, Ashton?”

She wiped at her forehead to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes. The temperature had risen into the nineties, and she felt like a piece of overcooked meat.

“I’m making garlic-rosemary grilled lamb chops with a side of fried apples,” she told him, wiping at her face. God, how she wished she could whip off her chef’s jacket and work in her tank top. She wiped at her forehead again; she hadn’t even known it was possible to sweat this much. Hopefully she wouldn’t be standing too close to the diners, because if they caught one whiff of her, they’d lose their appetite.

“Are you okay?” Ty asked quietly.

She looked up from the apples she was chopping to see concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Adrenaline was a great motivator.

“Your face is really red,” he said. “Maybe you should sit down for a minute and have a glass of water.”

“No time.” She kept right on chopping.

“Seriously, Ashton.”

“Seriously, Ty,” she snarked back. It was too hot to be nice, and he was annoying the hell out of her.
She saw him walk away, but even though the twist in her gut told her she’d been unnecessarily rude, she didn’t call him back to apologize. Time was running short; she’d make it up to him after the challenge.

As she started on her last apple, she felt cool water drizzle down the back of her neck. Gasping, she straightened up, backing against a hard chest she recognized. Ty.

“Hold still,” he commanded, putting a hand at her waist to make her comply.

“Ty,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you passing out again,” he said. He had a wet washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He put the washcloth against her neck. “This should cool you down.” He held it there for a minute, and then used the cloth to wipe her face. “Better?”

She nodded.

He handed her the water bottle. “Drink the rest of this.”

Suddenly, she was aware of Clint standing only feet away, the camera at his shoulder and pointed straight at her and Ty.

She backed away from Ty, chugging the water. “I’m fine. Please, I need to finish my dish.” With her eyes she pleaded with him to retreat.

He opened his mouth as if to argue, but shut it almost immediately. Instead, he nodded and backed away from her station.

There was no time to consider the implications of Ty’s kind gesture being caught on camera. She needed to finish her dish and be ready to feed fifteen people in less than an hour.

She worked at a steady pace, making sure to sip water. She could feel Ty’s eyes on her from across the campsite, no doubt to make sure she didn’t pass out from dehydration.

When time was finally called, she felt like she was the one who’d been slow cooked. Her clothes were soaked through with sweat, her damp hair plastered to her head. She wanted nothing more than to take a cold shower and then sleep for a day under an air-conditioning vent.

Instead, she had to put on a smile and serve the twelve “owners” of the RVs and three judges.

When the last person had been served, Ashton staggered under a shady tree and collapsed to the ground. She laid back, closing her eyes and letting the late-afternoon breeze sway over her.

She felt the ground shift and the sound of two more bodies fall beside her. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Duffy and Jolene.

“Why didn’t they just hang us over a spit with apples in our mouths?” Duffy moaned from her left side. “Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

“I smell,” Jolene half sobbed.

“We all smell,” Ashton told her.

They fell silent. The
clink
of silverware against dishes, the myriad of conversations lulled Ashton and soon she drifted to sleep.