think I’m sending you some psychic vibes that might sway your vote?”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re the one who told me to go away.”
“You’re the one who asked me which sauce I was voting for.” She narrowed her gaze at him, just to prove her point.
His lips twitched.
“I swear to God, Rafe Donovan, if you laugh at me right now, I’m dumping this plate in your lap.”
He stood. “Okay. Fine. I’m going away.”
As soon as Rafe left, Becks slid into the chair next to her. “Were you two fighting?”
“He asked me what sauce I was voting for.”
Becks gasped. “That son of a bitch.”
“I know.” She continued to track him as he made his way to the door.
“So what did you think of the sauces?” Becks asked.
“I thought they were all incredibly good. And all totally different. I have no idea how I’m supposed to vote on the best one.”
Becks sighed. “Same. One was tart, one was sweet, and one was spicy. And I loved all of them.”
“Agreed. So basically, we’re screwed.”
Carmen finished off the last of her chicken, dipping it in the spicy sauce, her tongue exploding with the flavor. She swallowed and took a sip of her margarita, pondering the dilemma. “We could stuff the ballot boxes.”
“Vote for all three?”
“Yes. Then we’d know we weren’t hurting anyone’s feelings.”
She laughed. “That would be cheating.”
Carmen shrugged. “I know. Which would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” Becks sipped on her drink. “But honest, right? We did like all three sauces.”
“This is true.” Then a thought hit her. “I wonder if everyone else feels the same way, or if they all have favorites.”
Becks grinned, catching on to Carmen’s idea.
It didn’t take long, based on conversations with everyone there, to find that there was a consensus that everyone enjoyed all the sauces equally. And when Becks and she suggested they may want to stuff the ballot boxes, everyone thought that was a perfect plan.
By the time plates had been tossed into the trash and all the leftover sides had been tucked away in the fridge, the votes had been cast. To keep it fair, Penny Pressman and Adrienne Smith were going to count the votes while everyone else waited outside.
Rafe cradled his beer between his hands as he sat with Carmen. Jackson and Becks and Kal sat with them.
“You actually look nervous,” she said.
“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win.”
“In your dreams, asshole,” Kal said.
Jackson sighed. “I feel sorry for the two of you losers.”
“You do realize this is just a friendly contest,” Carmen said.
Rafe looked at her as if she’d just sprouted two heads. “You didn’t grow up with my brothers and me. This is serious shit, Carmen.”
“Seriously serious,” Jackson said.
Becks looked over at Carmen and just shook her head.
Carmen shrugged, at a loss to understand. “Serious barbecue sauce competition.”
“Well, yeah,” Kal said. “We take everything we compete at as if it’s an Olympic event.”
Growing up together must have been fun for these guys. If fun was a constant competition.
The door slid open, and Penny and Adrienne walked out.
Rafe took her hand. “This is it,” he said, his gaze riveted to the women.
Adrienne grinned. “It’s a three-way tie.”
Jackson, Kal and Rafe all looked at one another.
“What the fuck?” Rafe asked. “How the hell could it be a tie?”
“A tie?” Jackson asked. “What the—a tie?”
Kal looked at everyone as if there’d been some kind of conspiracy. “Nuh-uh. You’re lying.”
“Maybe we all liked all your sauces,” Becks said.
Jackson narrowed his gaze. “I smell a setup.”
Becks looked shocked. “A setup? What do you mean?”
“I . . . don’t know.” Jackson dragged his fingers through his hair. “How the hell could there have been a tie?”
“Does it matter?” Penny asked. “The sauces were all amazing. I know I couldn’t choose just one, so I voted for all three.”
Penny looked at the guys as if she dared them to complain about that.
“I did the same thing,” Callie said. “I mean, I liked them all, so I voted for all of them.”
“Same,” Carmen said.
Rafe frowned. “You did what? You voted for all of them?”
“Of course. Which one was yours?”
“The spicy one.”
“Oh, I loved that one,” Carmen said.
“But not enough to single it out.”
She rolled her eyes. “I loved all of them. They were all so unique and incredibly flavorful. I just couldn’t choose, Rafe. I’m sorry.”
“Huh. I guess that’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Kal said. “Now none of us can claim to be champion.”
Becks patted him on the back. “You poor baby. I’m sure the three of you will