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“Oh please, spare me!” She laughed and picked up her phone, fiddling with some of the settings, which gave me the perfect time to plead my case. “Can’t we do photos on the day of the actual event?” My hair was a frizzy halo, my skin was pink from spending all day in the hot kitchen, and I felt like a big sweaty mess.
“You look beautiful,” Jackson whispered in my ear and I steadfastly ignored the shiver his breathe on my skin caused.
When I glanced back to tell him I wasn’t buying his lies, he wore a small smile. And my chef’s hat, which I never wore because it was too darn hot back here. “Nice hat.”
“Thanks. What about my tool?” The question was suggestive and naughty, but the effect was ruined by the oversized whisk attachment he held up.
“You know that’s for the big stand mixer, don’t you?”
He frowned at the wire whisk and shrugged, holding it like a normal hand whisk. “How do I look?”
“Great,” Ginger enthused and motioned for me to move in beside him. “Now, point your wooden spoon at him just like you did to me earlier.”
I did and she laughed. So did Jackson.
“Perfect. Now scowl at him and Jackson, look irreverent. Yep, just like that! A little more scowl, Reese. Perfect.”
“This is right up your alley, isn’t it?” He asked through a blinding white smile, only loud enough that I could hear him.
“That offer to make you a sauce still stands,” I told him, gravely serious.
Jackson barked out a laugh and then doubled over, like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard.
Ginger frowned. “You make personalized sauces? Why haven’t I heard about this?” She clearly misunderstood.Jackson laughed even harder, somehow managing to stand upright again, though thee occasional chuckle still erupted out of him. “She threatened to turn me into a barbecue sauce.”
Ginger’s eyes went wide, her gaze bouncing between us and trying to do some kind of calculation. I stayed stiff and emotionless, refusing to give away anything that might incriminate me. “Damn. Well good luck with… whatever this is. Thanks for the photos, kids. See ya!” Then she was gone, after she’d started all kinds of trouble.
I ignored the tension—something I was becoming an expert at—and looked at the bag Jackson left on the table. “What’s in the bag?”
He shrugged, his cheeks pink, but not from the kitchen heat. “I was in the city today for work and found these,” he said, holding up a couple beer bottles that were unfamiliar to me. “I thought maybe you’d find some interesting way to use them.” He was nervous, which made me nervous. Which was ridiculous because there was no reason for either of us to be nervous.
“Beer?”
“Yeah. You can cook with beer, right? I mean I’ve heard of beer can chicken, so… shit. Can you cook with beer?”
I laughed and nodded. “You can. Let’s see what you got.” It was a sweet gesture I refused to think of as sweet. It was thoughtful, something anyone else in Tulip would have done for anyone else. “What made you choose these?” He’d gotten a cherry and a blueberry flavored beer.
“I don’t know, it seems like berries could go pretty good with barbecue sauce.”
He made a good point. “Does that mean you’re volunteering to be my guinea pig for these particular recipes?” If we could do this, be friendly, the tension would disappear eventually. Right?
He nodded. “What about Rafe?”
“Allergic to blueberries,” I said easily. “What else is in there?”
He smiled and lifted a fancy-looking brown bottle. “Coffee and chocolate undertones. Might be another secret ingredient for the chili I smell right now. That smells delicious. So, so delicious.”
I laughed at his obvious attempt to get a bowl. “How delicious?” I smiled and realized something far more dangerous was starting to happen. I could handle being attracted to Jackson, but liking him? I was pretty sure that I couldn’t survive. Distance was what I needed.
“Delicious enough that I’m willing to put in some time chopping onions and crying my eyes out to get a bowl.”
Good. Distance was what I needed. “Perfect. Grab an apron and let’s get to work.”
His grin brightened. “Then chili?”
“If you’re a good boy, I’ll reward you with chili.” His grin got even brighter and I realized what I was doing. Flirting. With Jackson Slater. “Back to work, Detective.”
He chuckled and I ignored him—something I was becoming an expert at pretending to do.Jackson“How are things going with you and Reese?”
Rafe sat beside me in a booth at the Black Thumb, with Antonio in the seat across from us. By some stroke of good luck, we’d all arrived at the same time and found a table easily since it wasn’t late enough for the late-night crowd.
I looked at Rafe, really looked at him, and I started to see what all the fuss was about among the women in Tulip. He had dark features all over, dark hair and matching eyes with olive-toned skin. According to the women in town, even Bo and Nina, he was as handsome as any movie star. He was… all right.
