Good To Be Bad (Good Love #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,31

eternity, Mr. Skips whirls around, strokes his cute little gray beard and clears his throat. “Good news, Sweet Lovers! We’re ready to announce the point tallies for the first round! As a reminder, the rules stipulate that the contestant with the most points at the conclusion of the last event wins.”

He takes a deep breath.

Then a freaking pregnant pause.

We all hang on his words—all ten contestants and the couple hundred onlookers gathered around the edge of the tent. He finally exhales, rattling off the fifth-place winner with seven points out of ten, and then my name is next.

“Gigi James with eight points for her lovely apple pie.”

I beam. I hoped to make the top three, but there are a lot of talented chefs here. I’ll take fourth and 8 out of 10 and be proud of my performance, thank you very much!

“And in third place.” Mr. Skips glances back to his notes again, and chuckles, “Or well, I guess tied for fourth? Tied for third?” He laughs again. “In any event, West Byron, also finishes with 8 points for his innovative and refreshing strawberry shortcake.”

What the…?

I jerk my gaze to West, who’s blinking too, seemingly equally surprised that we’re tied.

But he doesn’t seem upset, and shockingly I find I’m not either. His shortcake was stunning. I wanted to eat it up with a spoon.

Or pop a dollop of that cream on a certain part of him and lick it off.

Stop it. No unicorn peen thoughts allowed, especially not while still on the field of battle.

Forcing a just-friends smile, I wrench my gaze from West’s as Mr. Skips finishes calling out the scores.

Willow takes second place with her funnel cake flavored cupcake with caramel apple icing—a triumph I hope will restore her confidence after the fire. And then, as much as I hate to see the smarmy pastry chef come out on top, I’m not surprised when Hawley nabs first place with nine points.

I saw his pastry—a chocolate cherry crème puff in the shape of a…wait for it… Big Apple. With cherry glaze running down its perfectly rounded shape and delicate dark chocolate shavings dusted across the plate like autumn leaves, it was stunning.

Still, I find it hard to admire the man, there’s something slimy about him, no matter how well-groomed he or his crème puff appear to be.

As soon as we’re dismissed, I make it a point to head in the opposite direction of Mr. Pastry, hurrying around the back of the tent to find Rosie, Ruby, and the rest of my girls.

“You did it! Third place!” Ruby enthuses, pulling me in for a hug.

“And only one point between you and that massive prick in plaid,” Rosie says, making me laugh. Because, of course, Rosie can spot a prick a mile away.

“And tied with Mr. Yummy Shortcake.” Allana bobs her dark brows as she pats Reggie, her sleeping baby boy’s bottom. “If I weren’t a happily married woman, I would totally let him split my scone.”

“Right in half,” Rosie agrees, shooting a heated look West’s way.

I clear my throat. “Um. Gross. I do not want my scone split, thank you very much. I want to keep my scone intact, my head in the game, and make sure I beat him next time around.”

I chat with the girls for a bit longer, then excuse myself to gather my things from my station and tidy up. As I load my purse with the spices I brought from home, Willow tiptoes over to tap a timid finger on my counter. “I’d like to take you out, if that’s okay. You and Weston? To say thank you.”

“Oh, you don’t—” I’m about to say have to, but I stop myself and think about how I’d feel if the shoe was on the other foot. If Willow had kept me from catching fire, I’d absolutely want to take her out. The look in her eyes tells me she feels the same way.

That this matters to her.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “I’d love that. Want me to ask West for you?”

Willow and I have been casual acquaintances for years—since she opened The Cupcakery in Williamsburg, in fact—but she’s still shy with me. I’m assuming West must have her completely spooked, but she surprises me.

“No, I’ll do it,” she says, her lips twitching up on one side. “He’s really nice. Reminds me of my big brother.”

Aw. That’s sweet, though I confess I’m secretly relieved West doesn’t remind me of my big brother.

I watch as Willow asks him