Taste the Heat (2 page)

“Our three brave captains, willing to let their culinary prowess speak for itself,
come from all over St. Tammany parish,” Mary told the crowd. “Captain Eric Dufrene
has brought his Cajun Shrimp and Grits all the way from Mandeville.”

“I’m amazed I didn’t get lost,” Eric joked, referring to the ten-mile drive from his
station to the park. Eric accepted an apron from her hands and slipped it over his
head.

“And Captain Gavin Morris has brought us Crab Bisque from Covington,” Mary continued,
handing Gavin a black apron. Par for the course, his friend hammed it up for the crowd,
flexing his muscles and smack talking as he tied it around his waist.

Jason cracked his knuckles. During all of this, the beautiful judge’s eyes had followed
Mary down the row. She’d offered Eric a warm smile, and laughed when Gavin bowed his
head in mock-adoration. He was next. And as juvenile as it was to admit, Jason was
eager for that same attention. Would she smile at him? Lower her lashes? Run her tongue
along those lips?

Mary grabbed a third apron and walked toward him. The brunette glanced at her phone.
Jason ground his teeth.

“And finally, our last contestant from right here in Magnolia Springs.”

At that, the woman’s head snapped up. Her gaze locked on him for the first time and
her eyes widened as if in recognition. Her lips parted.

“But don’t worry, folks,” Mary continued. “There are no favorites here today. Everyone
enters this contest on equal footing, including Captain Jason Landry and his Crawfish
Étouffée.”

Emma let out another sharp whistle, and Mary thrust out the apron. As Jason took the
garment from her fingers, his mind churned.

They couldn’t have met before. He might not have lived like a monk in the years since
his wife died, but he was sure he’d remember a woman like her. He rubbed his chin,
trying to recall if Mary had mentioned the judge’s name when he agreed to participate,
and drew a blank. Things were crazy at the station and he was dealing with Emma’s
newfound obsession with boys. But why hadn’t he thought to ask Mary who the judge
would be?

“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.”