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CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Shane
“You’re up.” Sal snorts as if I didn’t know the date is about to begin.
“Yep, I think I know my job by now,” I tell him.
“These are done,” Snow says, taking the baked potatoes out of the oven.
“Good, just plate them. Austin, you’ve got the salad.”
“Yeah, right here, homemade dressing.” He puts three even piles—one on each plate—for London’s date.
I almost scoff at that.
I put the steaks on the plates. I know, generic, but when someone tastes my steak, they say differently, and London likes meat. That makes me want to laugh. He can have my meat. See, I can make jokes. Once the food is ready to be served, I direct my attention to Sal, who nods with approval—not that I need it.
“Austin, can you take these out to the table?” I ask him. “We’ll eat when you get back.”
We’ve grown closer since Timber learned everything. And things are coming along with Timber, too. She calls me “Dad” now, and that makes me proud.
“Be right back.” He sets the plates on a tray and delivers them. Snow doesn’t want to watch the date. The others? They’re all piled on the porch with food so they can listen in.
After relaxing in the hot tub, London took a nap. Snow and I didn’t get that luxury. I wanted to wrap myself in his arms and hold Snow at the same time, but food doesn’t cook itself.
“Man, that girl is something else,” Austin mumbles.
“His date?” Snow asks.
“She said she didn’t want steak.” Austin snorts, shaking his head. “I mean, who comes on a show called Chicken Fried Love and doesn’t eat steak or meat for that matter?”
“Too bad, that’s what she’s getting,” I snap. “This isn’t a five-star restaurant, but it is five-star food.”
“It’s like this every season, Shane,” Austin replies with a wave of his hand. “There’s always a few who complain about meat, even if I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, but before they’re chosen, they have to fill out a food sheet. I pore over them to make sure not to serve something they don’t want or can’t have,” I point out. “The date sheets given to me said nothing about not liking meat. She can eat it or starve.”
“Let’s eat and forget about what’s going on outside,” Snow offers, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah.” I flop down in my seat. I get offensive over my food.
“Grumpy much?” Austin chuckles, setting a few dirty dishes in the sink.
“He’ll be okay after he eats,” Snow tells Austin, smiling sweetly at me.
“I hate when people criticize my food. I know I’m a good chef, could open my own restaurant if I wanted. Cocky, I know,” I mutter. “So, when someone makes a comment about the food, yeah, I get a little cranky.”
“You knew this would happen. Remember first season?” Austin asks. “The double date with Memphis. Natalie and another girl?”
“Yeah.” I incline my head, but it still pisses me off.
“I don’t remember the girl’s name, but she made a comment about not liking meat and was rude about it,” Austin says, staring at the ceiling for a moment, likely recalling the memory. “When Memphis said something, Natalie, who’s a vegetarian, by the way, shoved the meat down her throat so she didn’t go home.”
I chuckle, remembering that.
“Good times,” I say, leaning back in my chair with my hands behind my head.
“There you go. And it won’t last forever,” Snow chimes in. “They’ll be gone before you know it.”
