the Fire Starter Grille’s state-of-the-art kitchen. He strolled up behind Dee and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I see your new toy finally arrived.”
Deirdre whipped around. “Hey, there.” She returned his kiss. “Yes, my toy is here.” She smiled down at the gleaming professional-grade convection oven.
Torrian felt his eyes glazing over as Deirdre began an excited monologue about the wonders of the new oven. All he could think about was the woman he’d spent the morning with at the news station.
Paige Turner excited the hell out of him. It was as simple as that. But then, there was nothing simple about her. She was a contradiction wrapped up in a sinfully delicious package. One minute she was the confident, no-nonsense reviewer who had no qualms about standing up to him on her blog, and the next minute she was as timid as a schoolgirl, afraid of speaking in front of the camera.
As turned on as he’d been by that self-assured, I-can-do-anything attitude, witnessing her softer, more vulnerable side had ignited something in him that Torrian had yet to extinguish, even hours after leaving her at the TV station.
He’d felt that spark between them; had seen the look in her eyes as she’d held his gaze. She wasn’t immune to this indescribable feeling that had taken hold of them since the moment they’d met, no matter how much she tried to fight it.
“Torrian!”
He jumped at Deirdre’s fingers snapping in his face. “What?”
“I see you’ve been paying attention to every word I’ve said.”
“Sorry, Dee. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“That’s what I was asking about. What was the big mysterious thing the people down at Channel 10 wanted to talk over with you and David?”
“They want me on their morning news show,” Torrian answered.
“I figured that much,” Deirdre said. She zeroed in on a smudge on the oven’s door, rubbing it with the towel she pulled from her arm. “I just thought it was strange they wouldn’t just come out and ask you over the phone, or through David. Why be so hush-hush about it?”
“I should clarify that,” Torrian said. “They want me to cook on their morning show.”
Deirdre’s brow shot up. “You? Cook?”
“Hey,” Torrian said. “I can get down in the kitchen when I have to.”
“I know that. I’m the one who taught you. The problem is, you haven’t had to ‘get down’ in the kitchen in years,” Deirdre said, making air quotes with her fingers. “When was the last time you even scrambled your own egg?”
Torrian didn’t waste time trying to remember. It had been years since he’d had to cook a meal for himself. If Deirdre didn’t feed him, he had about a dozen five-star restaurants on speed dial. Not a single one of them offered delivery service, but Torrian always had a hot meal at his door within a half hour of his call.
“You’re right,” Torrian admitted. “Which is why I need you to give me a refresher course. If I’m going to win this competition, I’ve got to practice.”
“Competition?”
“Paige Turner will be on the show, too.” Torrian grinned at Dee’s stunned look. “They’ve come up with this idea of a cook-off between me and Paige. Starting Friday, and for the next five weeks, we’re going to prepare a dish on a special morning segment they’re calling Playing with Fire . After each segment, a panel of judges will pick the better of the two dishes, and the station will give twenty-thousand dollars to a charity of the winner’s choice. I picked Dante’s high school band as one of my charities. I figure it’ll help with their trip to Italy.”
“Torrian, that’s wonderful,” Deirdre said. “But let’s be honest, do you really think you have a chance of winning?”
“Have some faith, Dee.” Torrian laughed. His sister leveled him with a sardonic look. Torrian held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll admit it’s been a while since I’ve had to cook for myself, but I’m not totally
Deirdre whipped around. “Hey, there.” She returned his kiss. “Yes, my toy is here.” She smiled down at the gleaming professional-grade convection oven.
Torrian felt his eyes glazing over as Deirdre began an excited monologue about the wonders of the new oven. All he could think about was the woman he’d spent the morning with at the news station.
Paige Turner excited the hell out of him. It was as simple as that. But then, there was nothing simple about her. She was a contradiction wrapped up in a sinfully delicious package. One minute she was the confident, no-nonsense reviewer who had no qualms about standing up to him on her blog, and the next minute she was as timid as a schoolgirl, afraid of speaking in front of the camera.
As turned on as he’d been by that self-assured, I-can-do-anything attitude, witnessing her softer, more vulnerable side had ignited something in him that Torrian had yet to extinguish, even hours after leaving her at the TV station.
He’d felt that spark between them; had seen the look in her eyes as she’d held his gaze. She wasn’t immune to this indescribable feeling that had taken hold of them since the moment they’d met, no matter how much she tried to fight it.
“Torrian!”
He jumped at Deirdre’s fingers snapping in his face. “What?”
“I see you’ve been paying attention to every word I’ve said.”
“Sorry, Dee. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“That’s what I was asking about. What was the big mysterious thing the people down at Channel 10 wanted to talk over with you and David?”
“They want me on their morning news show,” Torrian answered.
“I figured that much,” Deirdre said. She zeroed in on a smudge on the oven’s door, rubbing it with the towel she pulled from her arm. “I just thought it was strange they wouldn’t just come out and ask you over the phone, or through David. Why be so hush-hush about it?”
“I should clarify that,” Torrian said. “They want me to cook on their morning show.”
Deirdre’s brow shot up. “You? Cook?”
“Hey,” Torrian said. “I can get down in the kitchen when I have to.”
“I know that. I’m the one who taught you. The problem is, you haven’t had to ‘get down’ in the kitchen in years,” Deirdre said, making air quotes with her fingers. “When was the last time you even scrambled your own egg?”
Torrian didn’t waste time trying to remember. It had been years since he’d had to cook a meal for himself. If Deirdre didn’t feed him, he had about a dozen five-star restaurants on speed dial. Not a single one of them offered delivery service, but Torrian always had a hot meal at his door within a half hour of his call.
“You’re right,” Torrian admitted. “Which is why I need you to give me a refresher course. If I’m going to win this competition, I’ve got to practice.”
“Competition?”
“Paige Turner will be on the show, too.” Torrian grinned at Dee’s stunned look. “They’ve come up with this idea of a cook-off between me and Paige. Starting Friday, and for the next five weeks, we’re going to prepare a dish on a special morning segment they’re calling Playing with Fire . After each segment, a panel of judges will pick the better of the two dishes, and the station will give twenty-thousand dollars to a charity of the winner’s choice. I picked Dante’s high school band as one of my charities. I figure it’ll help with their trip to Italy.”
“Torrian, that’s wonderful,” Deirdre said. “But let’s be honest, do you really think you have a chance of winning?”
“Have some faith, Dee.” Torrian laughed. His sister leveled him with a sardonic look. Torrian held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll admit it’s been a while since I’ve had to cook for myself, but I’m not totally
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