Page 147 of Delicious

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’ll do it.”

Heads turned as Amber squealed, punching her fist in the air triumphantly. “Yes! Awesome. The format will be a simple once-a-week sample contest, which will give us both a chance to advertise our goodies, and will culminate with a finale at the beginning of December. That’s six weeks of?—”

“Six weeks?” Rob and I sputtered in unison.

“It’s all about the buildup,” Amber explained. “We have to get the word out and get the frenzy going.”

I frowned, skirting the counter to avoid disturbing our customers. “I thought this was a one-time deal. What are we going to do for six weeks? We have businesses to run.”

“That wouldn’t do justice to either of us,” she argued. “We have to milk this through the entire football season and get our audience revved up. Here’s an idea…Rob could make marinara from scratch. We could put it in small paper cups for customers to taste and rate. And Mateo could make everything bagel bites and do the same thing. I think both of our customers will go nuts!”

Huh.Sounded like extra work for yours truly, but she was right about one thing…it would draw people in.

“I don’t know how to make marinara sauce,” Rob griped.

“Too bad for you, ’cause I know how to make a bagel.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you?—”

“Oh, for f—udge sake. Six weeks of this will be torture for all of us,” Vanni huffed, smiling at the young family striding toward the register. “Welcome to Boardwalk. What can I get for you?”

Amber chuckled, a ringlet of curls snagging on her chin as she tucked her iPad under her arm. “I say keep it up, boys. The more angst, the better. Back to work for me. See you later, Mateo. And thank you. I think this is going to be great.”

We watched her walk out the door before looking at each other.

“I guess that’s something we’re doing,” Rob grumbled.

“Hmph. I hope you’re ready to get your ass handed to you. I literally have marinara in my veins.”

“Good to know.” Rob nudged my elbow as he pulled his cell from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to text you my address. We can trade recipes or…” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “We can finish what you started.”

“Tonight?” I gulped.

“Tonight.”

I wanted to tell him to fuck off for the sake of it, but when he pushed his phone at me, I typed in my number and shoved it at him…too strung out to argue. I needed some space. Stat.

“Unless you’re buying, get outta here. We’re busy.”

Rob’s lips tilted at one side as stepped a little closer. “I can’t wait to take you apart and put you back together again. See you later, sunshine.”

Oh, fuck.

That right there was a fine example of what was wrong with me. I wasn’t the kind of guy who got twisted up over meaningless compliments and vapid praise. Nope. But the threat of having my insides rearranged? Yeah, that did it for me.

I shook my head in consternation and all I could think was,Wow, you’re one sick fucker, Cavaretti. I hope he’s worth it.

ChapterEight

Rob

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