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I was left speechless and frozen. Suddenly the elephant ear tasted like ash because nothing in the world tasted as good as Trask Davis.
He stood with a group of people, chatting with most of them and eventually they were ushered on stage with the rest. He stared at me when he sat and the giant pumpkin pie was placed in front of him. He licked his lips and my hand went up to brush over my own. He must have noticed because he winked at me again.
The announcer went on about the rules. Basically, don’t cheat, no utensils, finish fast. And when the horn blew, Trask looked like a madman and I couldn’t help but laugh with the crowd. It was chaos and over in a minute. Trask got fourth, and he reacted like he got first prize. He grabbed some paper towels off the table on his way down and grinned at me like a fool. “That was the most embarrassing thing of my life. I fully expect to repay you tenfold for that.”
I dusted some crumbs from his sweatshirt and couldn’t hide my laugh. “It was pretty funny. In my defense, I didn’t think you’d do it.”
“Pay up,” he said, kissing me. My stomach did a flip.
“Alex Carson.”
“Huh, not what I was expecting.”
I held his hand as we walked to an open bench. “What were you thinking?”
He shrugged. “Something with a story behind it.”
“Maybe there is one.”
“Is there?” he asked.
I laughed. “No, Alex sounded masculine enough to fool the sexist publications and feminine enough to still appeal to female readers. Lots of authors do that. Plus, I like starting at the front of the alphabet.”
“Sneaky little thing.” He pulled out his phone and was already searching for my pen name. “Holy shit, Eliza, you have a lot out there. Like, you’re well known.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the blush. “Honestmoney, I know.”
“I can’t wait to read these.”
He sounded genuine, and it made me nervous. “Please don’t.”
“Why?” He stopped and used his thumb and forefinger to tilt my chin up to him, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“I think it will be strange that you’ll know so much about me. It’s all fiction but—”
“There’s always some truth to fiction?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
“Good,” he said, leaning in and brushing his lips over my own. “Because I want to know you. And I am not going to be entering another pie-eating contest to figure out more of your secrets.”
I laughed, and he kissed me again.
“But I do have another wager for you.”
“What is it?”
“The mud run.”
My eyes widened. “No! Absolutely not.”
He laughed but all the while he guided us toward the infamous mud run. It was a simple hundred-yard dash but in a giant mud pit.
“I want to race you,” he said, eyeing the mud pit. “First one to finish gets a special prize.”
“What do I get if I win?”
“All the help you need in math.”
