Page 22 of Cowboys & Hot Sauce
She fumbled in her purse for her phone, offering me a quick smile before answering. "Hello?"
I turned to leave, making my way down the walk towards my truck, when her next words stopped me cold.
"Yes, the plan is working perfectly," she said, her voice carrying in the quiet night. "Burke has been exactly what I needed. After tomorrow's competition, it will be all over."
My hand froze on the truck door. The words stung worse than the time Rhett had accidentally backhanded me during a fence repair. I'd been a fool. A means to an end. Nothing more.
I climbed into the cab, starting the engine automatically. Through the rearview mirror, I watched Scarlet still talking on the phone, animated and smiling. The memory of our kiss burned in my mind, now tainted with the certainty that for her, it had all been part of the strategy.
All the way home, her words echoed in my head:After tomorrow's competition, it will be all over.
For once, Scarlet and I were in perfect agreement. Tomorrow, whatever this was between us would end. I'd been the reliable Tate brother long enough to know when a deal was going south.
And this particular arrangement had been miscalculated from the start.
Chapter Seven
Scarlet
The morning sun blazed down as I checked my phone for the third time in fifteen minutes. Burke should have been here by now. We'd arranged to meet at the food truck at nine to prep before the festival opened at eleven, but it was nearly ten—just an hour before the final judging—and I'd had to handle everything by myself.
"He's just running behind," I muttered, arranging sample cups for the judges. My stomach was in knots. Today was everything—the final hot sauce competition that could change my whole life.
I'd called Burke twice, but both times it went straight to voicemail. After everything we'd shared at the barn dance, that kiss on my parents' porch, and our late-night planning session, his absence felt wrong. Something had shifted between us, but I couldn't put my finger on what.
The door of my food truck swung open, and I spun around, relief washing over me.
"Burke! Where have you—"
The words died in my throat. It was Burke alright, but not the same man who'd held me close under the string lights last night. His face was blank, those green eyes flat and distant.He wore a fresh shirt and his usual cowboy hat, but everything about him screamed "keep away."
"Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice unnaturally even. "Got tied up with festival business. What needs doing?"
I fumbled with the sample tray, knocking three cups sideways. "I've got most everything ready, but the refrigeration unit's gone wonky. Temperature's bouncing all over the place."
Burke nodded and moved past me, keeping a good six inches between us in the narrow space. The cold spot where his shoulder should have brushed mine made my skin crawl.
"Hand me that toolkit under the sink," he said, crouching to look at the unit.
I passed it over, making sure our fingers didn't touch. "Burke, did I do something wrong?"
"Nope." He didn't look up, focusing entirely on the metal box. "Loose wire, looks like."
For twenty excruciating minutes, I watched him work. His hands moved quickly and efficiently, but the easy back-and-forth we'd shared yesterday had vanished. The refrigeration unit hummed back to life, and Burke stood, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Should work fine now," he said, putting the tools away. "Temperature'll even out in about ten minutes."
"Thanks." I hesitated, then reached out to touch his arm. "Burke, seriously. What's going on with you today?"
His eyes flicked to my hand, then back to my face. "Nothing's going on. We both know what this is, Scarlet. Let's just get through today."
Before I could dig deeper, Mayor Davidson's voice crackled over the loudspeaker: "All hot sauce finalists, pleasereport to the judging area! Competition begins in fifteen minutes!"
Burke stepped back. "You should go. Good luck with the competition."
"You're not coming with me?"
"I'll be there. Need to check with Rhett about cleanup schedules first."
