Page 28 of Recipe for Rivals

“You’ve got a little admiration on your face,” Dusty said softly, pointing to his lips like I had chocolate milkshake on my mouth. “I think that means you like it here.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Awkward. Yours is covered in try-hard.”

His eyes glittered. “Weird. I’ve never had to do that in my entire life.”

That one I could believe.

CHAPTER NINE

DUSTY

It was earlyin the morning, almost time to leave for my shift at the firehouse. The sun had started to make an appearance, the hazy light sneaking through my farmhouse windows and softening the edges in my dark living room. I sat on the couch and leaned my head on the back of the cushion, closing my eyes.

My grandpa had left me his house when he’d moved into the retirement home, which felt uncomfortable for the first year. He’d still live with me if I had the ability to pay for someone to be here with him at all times. When he’d reached a place where he needed more help than I could provide, he was the one who selected his assisted living facility, met with the lawyers to move the house to my name, and made me an executor with the power to manage his finances.

It was necessary, because we didn’t have anyone else left. The last time we’d heard from my parents was almost fifteen years ago, when they visited the summer before I started high school and took my Darth Vader bank when they left. It had been radio silence ever since. They could be living in Kentucky for all we knew. Or Mexico. Or a compound in Oregon.

Or maybe they were still in North Carolina.

I stopped googling them about five years ago. It wasn’t that I’d given up, exactly, but Grandpa had made me realize that at some point it was healthier to let go.

A soft furry head pushed itself down my arm, and I opened my eyes to see my orange striped cat climb onto my lap. “There you go, Leia,” I said, rubbing my hand down her back. She always seemed to sense when I needed a companion and slipped out of nowhere to fill the empty space. It felt good to be chosen for a moment. Cats were picky little things, so I never took it for granted.

Tucker had thought he was playing a prank on me when he’d left the kitten on my doorstep last year, but he was really providing me with exactly what I’d needed. He’d also christened her with the name of the A&M mascot, but I quickly corrected that misdeed.

“I need to go to work,” I told her, running my hands through her soft fur over and over again while she nestled in. “I should have left already.”

She purred, completely ignoring me. Typical.

Mustering the strength to stand, I lifted her with me and carried her to the window, dragging my hand along her back like the villain in a kid’s show. Some days were easier than others, and today, for whatever reason, was one of the harder ones. I put Leia in the middle level of her climbing gym and fetched my things before letting myself outside. Cold air hit me like a wall. The old farmhouse was much too big for one person, but it was solidly built, keeping in the warmth in like an oven.

The drive into Arcadia Creek was quick, and station 4 was busy when I arrived with people leaving for the day and the new shift taking over.

“You making breakfast, Chef?” Randy asked, stashing his things in his locker.

My smile went wide. “You know it.” I wasn’t formally trained or anything, but living with Grandpa had meant a lot ofmeat and potatoes until I learned my way around the kitchen. My secret Pinterest board of recipes and techniques was still one of my most opened apps, and Tucker’s mom, Jan, had filled in the gaps in my cooking knowledge where the internet couldn’t.

“Please tell me its quiche again. I woke up drooling just thinking about it.”

“That’s disgusting,” Jill said, passing us to get to her locker. “But I’ll put a second in for that quiche if you have all the ingredients.”

I’d been thinking waffles, but quiche was fine, too. So long as the fridge was stocked with what I needed and the spinach hadn’t gone bad yet.

“Hayes,” Captain Bowman called, his voice clipped. “Come to my office.”

“Yes, sir.” I finished putting my things away and closed my locker, exchanging a glance with Randy, who shrugged.

“We’ll start the chores,” he said.

Jill lifted her hand. “I’m folding hoses.”

Great. I’d be stuck cleaning the toilets, thanks to this meeting.

Captain Bowman was a middle-aged man with a rounded belly and a shiny forehead, but I will undoubtedly be jealous of his thick head of dark hair someday when mine thinned like Grandpa’s.

“Take a seat,” he said gruffly.

I closed the door to his office and sat on the other side of his metal desk. He looked tired, so I kept my mouth shut and refrained from teasing. Was I in trouble? I was generally well liked and kept my nose clean.