Deep Autumn Heat by Elisabeth Barrett

just working right now. See?” She gestured around the restaurant. The gesture drew all the more attention to their conversation. Now, even the customers who hadn’t been paying attention to them began to stare.
    “You promised me a throw-down. Winner takes all.” There was a gleam in his eyes as he deliberately distorted the terms of their agreement.
    “I promised no such thing,” she challenged back.
    “You would deny me?” he asked, his voice husky.
    The whispering began anew and Lexie’s cheeks turned a fresh shade of red. “You’remaking this worse,” she whispered. “Please just go.”
    “Not until you agree to make arrangements with me,” he insisted.
    “Fine,” she snapped. “If it’ll get you out of here. But I call the dish.”
    This wasn’t part of his plan, but he gave her a little bow. “Your choice, my dear,” he said graciously. He fully expected her to choose something along the lines of her coconut cake. She paused only a second before she spoke.
    “Crab cakes.”
    “Crab cakes?” He was surprised. “Why those?”
    Lexie didn’t bother giving him an explanation. “Crab cakes,” she repeated firmly. “You pick the date and time.”
    Seb nodded. “Next week. Thursday evening. Nine o’clock, after your kitchen closes. The camera crew will be here at eight to set up.”
    “Camera crew?” she squeaked.
    He simply shrugged. The idea to make the challenge part of his upcoming show had been a stroke of genius. He’d already agreed to stick around Star Harbor for Jimmy’s wedding. If he was going to move things along with his TV show while he was here, Ivana would give him less grief. Plus, an appearance on the Cooking Channel could only help Lexie, too. “You could use the extra publicity for the LMK, right?” She nodded warily and he continued. “I’ve lined up two chefs from New York and Boston to judge.”
    “I have someone I’d like to have judge, too,” she said, sounding remarkably composed given that he’d just sprung the taping on her.
    “Who?” Seb asked. “Babs Kincaide.”
    “Clam Shak owner Babs Kincaide?”
    “You know another?” she retorted.
    Seb had to hand it to Lexie. She was a shrewd woman. Not only would Babs be on her side, but she’d also represent the town. It didn’t hurt that Babs didn’t like him one bit—neverhad—and made no attempt to hide it. “Fine,” he agreed.
    “Fine then. Now go.” Lexie looked pointedly at the door.
    He wouldn’t kiss her, not here. Not in front of all of these people. As if she could read his mind, she turned her gaze to his lips and blushed an even deeper shade of red. He rewarded her with a sensual smile. Lexie blinked, but she didn’t look away. She had a backbone of steel, this one. He liked that.
    “I’ll see you next Thursday, Lexie. Be ready for me.” Smiling, he turned on his booted heel and walked away.
* * *
    A chill wind blew outside the LMK that Saturday evening after closing time. Thankfully, it was still warm and cozy inside.
    Lexie stood behind the counter, facing Emma Newbridge, who sat perched on a high cushioned stool. It was quiet save for the sound of Dennis methodically mopping the floor. Lexie waited as the small auburn-haired woman studied a list of the dishes Lexie intended to prepare for Emma and Jimmy’s wedding, which was rapidly approaching.
    Lexie turned to look at the only table that was still occupied. Julie Kensington, the local doctor, and Cameron Stahl, the owner of The Front Street Boutique, sat opposite each other in the far booth, each immersed in a book. The two women were close friends and Lexie had become friendly with them over the past few years. They seemed content with their books and tea, so Lexie left them alone. She averted her gaze to the sidewalk bordering the restaurant. Early fall leaves raced across the ground, and she could almost hear the rustling sound they must be making. Autumn was really here, no doubt about it. She’d make pumpkin muffins