Page 143

“Don’t put flowers on my fucking tacos.”

“They’re edible.”

“That doesn’t improve the sentence.”

Bliss stepped onto the stage wearing another pink sash over her pastel shirt. This one said HEAD CHEF, which managed to be less accurate than the hunt master sash she had worn earlier.

Cade stood beside her holding a stack of instruction cards and looking like a man who had accepted that marriage would involve public humiliation.

“We’re making street tacos,” Bliss announced. “Every pair gets ninety minutes. There is tortillas, protein and salsa, and one additional topping must be made from scratch.”

Briggs inspected the ingredients at the nearest station and raised his hand.

“No.”

“I haven’t asked the question yet.”

“You were going to ask whether you had to kill the cow.”

Temple laughed beside Rider.

She had arrived halfway through the scavenger hunt in a pink sundress, matching heels, and a blonde ponytail tied with a bow large enough to receive its own invitation. Nobody needed to introduce her. She had spent the past year handling publicity for Rider’s team, which meant she already knew the guys, the girls, and exactly how exhausting all of us could be.

Rider had asked her to come after whatever casual thing he’d been doing with his last date quietly died. According to him, bringing Temple was safer than allowing Cade’s wedding to become open recruitment for puck bunnies.

According to Temple, he had given her enough notice to choose between wrapping the wedding gift and applying mascara.

The gift remained in a store bag.

Her mascara looked professionally engineered.

Temple being here carried one complication Charm didn’t know about yet. I had fucked her in Detroit last November, long before Rider brought her around as a friend and while both of us were single. It happened once, meant nothing beyond one night, and Temple and I had been friends since. I didn’t regret it, but Charm deserved to hear it from me before someone dropped it into conversation without context. I only needed everyone to keep their mouths shut until I could tell her later.

“I was going to ask whether premade seasoning violates the spirit of the challenge,” Briggs said.

Temple leaned toward him. “It does.”

Briggs looked delighted. “Thank you. Finally, someone respects culinary law.”

“I work in public relations. Inventing unnecessary rules is most of the job.”

“Do you also carry snacks?”

Her small pink purse opened to reveal at least four protein bars, gum, candy, stain remover, tissues, and a miniature sewing kit.

Briggs pressed a hand against his heart. “Rider, where have you been hiding her?”

Lyric’s attention moved from Briggs to Temple, her expression tightening when Temple smiled back at him. Briggs didn’t notice. He was too busy looking inside the tiny purse like Temple had opened a portal to everything he had ever needed.

“At work,” Temple answered brightly.

Lyric looked into the purse. “That’s a lot to carry for a cooking challenge.”

Temple smiled without appearing to notice the edge beneath the comment. “You would be amazed how often grown hockey players require emergency crackers.”

Rider accepted a protein bar from her without asking.

“Case study,” she said.