First—social rules?But it’s the spouses thing Tammy says that makes me pause. Not for the first time, I wonder how old the rest of the competitors are. Sadie, Riley, Lauren, and I all binge-watched every single season available on the internet as soon as we learned that we’d made it onto the show. Most of the contestants were either professionals with their own businessesor hobby bakers that had been practicing their craft for the past twenty years. The youngest pair we saw was in their mid-twenties.
Sadie and I will be the babies. But that’s good—they’ll underestimate us.
After filling out various stacks of paperwork—even though we’ve already practically signed our lives away—we’re headed up to the third floor, card keys in hand.
Excitement rolls off Sadie. Everyone we meet smiles at her—because she’sthatperson.
The one people smile at.
The one who smiles back.
The one who bakes competition-winning cookies, gives genuine, heartfelt hugs, and visits old people in retirement homes, patiently listening for hours as they tell her stories about pets that died twenty-five years ago and their third cousin’s knee surgeries.
No wonder Brandon loves her. I’m starting to like Sadie, and I hate her to pieces.
If that makes sense. Which it doesn’t.
But nothing makes sense anymore. After all, a week ago, I received a text from the former lead singer of Forever Now, informing me I’d been chosen to compete in a nationally televised baking competition. This sort of thing doesn’t happen.
We opt for the tall, open stairs instead of taking the elevator. At the top, I glance out the windows. Dainty flakes of snow begin to fall, drifting to the ground in an idyllic sort of way. We’re in the Rockies, on the Denver side of Vail Pass. Mountains loom on either side of the valley, perfect white guardians.
I’ve never been to Colorado, but after living near Yellowstone, I doubted it was as fabulous as everyone claimed. I was pleasantly surprised. Along the main interstate, there are dozens of tiny towns, all clustered together. They all have aluxurious Swiss sort of feel with their nod to chalet architecture and white-ribboned ski slopes cutting through the dusky blue spruce.
The lodge is away from the crowds, tucked into its own private nook, but the isolated feel is a mirage. We’re only ten minutes from a group of high-end outlet stores and a massive lake that’s currently covered in snow.
Sadie walks ahead of me, decked in tall, high-heeled suede boots, dark jeans, and a merry red scarf over a white, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair is pulled up today in a sleek ponytail, killing some of her Alice vibe. She murmurs the room numbers as we pass them, pausing once she reaches thirty-eight. She turns to face me, her bright blue eyes full of excitement as she flicks me the card key. “Want to do the honors?”
Feeling a bit giddy myself, and irritated about it, I accept the card and slide it into the lock. As soon as the light blinks green, I turn the handle and open the door. Except the door doesn’t open, and I end up walking into it with a grunt.
Grumbling under my breath, I try one more time. Again, the blinking green lightlies.
“The lock might be jammed,” a vaguely familiar male voice says from behind me. Before my poor brain can grasp the situation, Mason Knight leans around me, practically draping his manly self over my shoulders, and snatches the card key from my hand. He repeats the process, but when the light turns green, he gives the handle a swift downward tug as he shoves the door open.
Bowing to his wishes like everything else in his life, the door swings open. I turn my head, prepared to tell him that I was about to get it myself, but then I realize I have made the greatest mistake of my life. Because Mason’s lips are inches away from mine, and he’s smirking in the most wicked, delicious sort of way.
The air whooshes from my lungs, and I’m left gaping at him, just like I did at our first meeting.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs.
Yep. That snaps me out of it.
Making a scoffing noise, I nudge him away with my shoulder.
“You know,” he says, crossing his arms, grinning from ear to ear. “That usually elicits a different sort of response.”
I roll my eyes, and my gaze lands on Sadie. She looks like she’s going to pass out.
Mason, remembering the girl’s existence at the same time as I do, turns to her, extending his hand. “Hey, I’m Mason.”
A flighty giggle escapes her lips, and then she shakes herself. “Sadie.”
She takes his hand, pretending to be brave, but it’s so obvious she wants to melt into a puddle at his feet. Mason, used to the reaction he has on the females of the species, doesn’t even blink.
“How was your flight?” he asks us both, his eyes flickering back to me.
“We drove.”
He looks surprised. “That’s a long day.”
