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After he stirred it in, he grabbed two spoons and scooped out a sample for both of us, and I said, “Cheers,” and raised it in a toast. We both popped the bean mixture into our mouths, and for a second, it tasted great.
Then the burning started.
I exclaimed, “Holy fuck!”
Tristan grabbed a bottle of water and started chugging it, while I ran to the sink, turned on the faucet, and stuck my head under it. While I tried to rinse the fire out of my mouth, he rasped, “I think that was ghost pepper. I forgot they look the same.”
I started laughing, then dropped to my knees in a coughing fit. I ended up stretching out on the kitchen floor while trying to catch my breath, and Tristan collapsed beside me. “I feel like I could breathe fire,” he said, but then he started laughing, too.
“Who do you hate so much that you’d feed them ghost pepper?”
“It’s for my brother. I don’t hate him, but he’s one of those macho assholes who claims nothing’s ever truly hot. I was going to make him gumbo spicy enough to finally shut him up.”
“Yeah, that’d do it.” I coughed again and said, “I think I died for a minute there. My soul actually left my body.”
“Same. I was pretty sure I saw Jesus. Turns out it was just you with that scraggly-ass beard.” We both started laughing again, and he told me, “Your eyes are watering.”
Just as Tristan reached over to wipe a tear from my face, someone said, “What the hell?” We both sat up and turned to look at Harper, who was staring at us with an annoyed expression. He asked, “Are you ready to go, Phoenix, or do you need more time to roll around on the floor with my chef?”
I scowled at him, and Tristan and I got to our feet. Harper crammed his toiletry case and a pair of flip flops into the duffle bag and headed to the front door without another word, and Tristan asked, “What was that about?”
“He probably thinks we decided to sneak in a three-minute quickie while he was upstairs.”
“Please. I don’t do quickies.” His grin turned playful, and he teased, “Now, if you ever want a longie, I’m your man.”
I chuckled as I wiped my face with the hem of my flannel overshirt. “You should make that your personal motto, maybe put it on a T-shirt. I’d better go, but thanks again for the food, not counting the ghost pepper.”
“Sorry I tried to kill you with the chili.”
“It’s all good. Hey, you should pack it up and take it to your brother. There’s no way Mr. Macho could keep his composure through that.”
Tristan grinned and said, “I think I will.”
“Have a good week, and please say goodbye to Hudson and Kel for me, since I don’t know where they are right now.”
“Will do.”
I grabbed my guitar case and luggage on my way out of the house. By the time I reached the garage, Harper was sitting behind the wheel of his SUV, wearing a pair of mirrored sunglasses and grinding his teeth.
After I threw my stuff in the back, I climbed into the passenger seat and put on my seatbelt. While Harper gunned the engine and shot out of the driveway, I looked down at myself and pulled my wet T-shirt away from my chest. I’d managed to soak myself pretty good when I was trying to wash out my mouth (which actually was still burning). I tipped down the sunshade so I could see myself in the mirror and finger-combed my hair while Harper sighed in frustration.
After a moment, I turned to him and asked, “What exactly do you think happened in the kitchen?”
“Hell if I know. One minute you’d barely spoken to Tris, the next you two were awfully cozy.”
“Oh, obviously. I thought, hey, Harper will be gone about three minutes, that’s plenty of time to get busy with a hot vegan chef. He was spicy too, let me tell you. I even worked up a sweat!” I gestured at my wet shirt, then rolled my eyes so hard, I almost caught a glimpse of the back of my head.
“I don’t need to hear the sordid details.”
“I’m kidding, Harper. We obviously weren’t messing around.”
“Then what were you doing on the floor?”
I sighed and muttered, “You know what? Think whatever you want.”
The rest of the drive to the airport passed in awkward silence. When we finally arrived at the charter terminal, Harper rushed past the personnel prepping the plane and pulled aside a guy with a visitor pass around his neck.
Meanwhile, I handed over the luggage to a waiting crew member and climbed onboard. Three attractive flight attendants in dark blue uniforms were lined up to greet me. The fact that I was wrinkled, disheveled, and soggy didn’t seem to faze them in the slightest.
