Page 59 of Serving Bunt

PeteRoseCity9

For now.

GimmeMoMiller

Oh, you’re dangerous.

PeteRoseCity9

You have no idea.

But one day, you will.

Diaz

“Okay, Peter. Two challenges down, one to go.” The associate producer, Leah, shifted in her folding chair across from me, eyeing the tablet balanced on one knee. “Before we talk about the finale, let’s go back to the Claus and Effect challenge. What was your initial reaction when you found out it was a blind technical bake?”

I leaned back in my chair and blew out a long breath toward the rafters. “Am I allowed to swear?”

A grin broke out on her face. “Always.”

“In that case . . . ,” I started, pausing to rub my palms together. Somebody had to keep these producers on their toes. “My first thought was, ho, ho, holy shit, we’re fucked.”

Leah belted out a laugh, obviously thrilled with my grade-A soundbite.

“Oh, that’s absolutely making the cut.”

“I aim to please. I don’t know if you know it, but my idea of baking is usually heating up a store-bought cookie in the microwave, and even then, I usually just end up melting the damn thing. Thankfully, I have a partner who knows what he’s doing.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “Or at least, knows better than I do.”

“So, you trusted Matty to take the lead?”

The question softened something in me before I could stop it.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “And honestly? That’s probably the biggest difference between our first bake and now.”

Leah tilted her head. “How so?”

I glanced past the cameras toward the empty baking stations, my smile turning quieter around the edges.

“For that first challenge, we were both trying to steer the ship. Matty had his ideas, I had mine, and instead of working together, we kept accidentally smacking each other in the face with . . . the oars.” I paused. “Metaphorically. Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?” Leah echoed with a laugh.

“I can assure you that no baseball players were harmed in the making of the pavlova.”

“Good to know.”

An image of Matty standing beside me in that barn, eyes laser-focused on the measuring cup in his hands, bottom lip clenched between his teeth, flashed across my brain.

So damn focused. So damn cute.

“Yesterday felt different,” I told Leah. “We stopped trying to prove who was right and started paying attention to what the other person needed.”

The words hung there for a second longer than I intended.

Leah noticed too. I could tell by the look on her face.

“And that worked better?” she asked.