“I’m not cleaning any of this up,” Bren mumbles, earning a sleepy nod of agreement from Syd, who’s been napping the last hour.
“They couldn’t even pay me to help,” Syd declares.
My eyes widen, stunned and in awe as I walk out the patio. My mouth waters, and it has nothing to do with the food. All of the guys—even Keith and Brooks—stand in a row in front of the table shirtless, wearing nothing but aprons and swim trunks. The aprons are an array of patterns, ranging from “Kiss the Chef” to floral patterns to something that looks to be Disney related.
“I take it back. If they do some type of Magic Mike dance, I’ll help clean the kitchen,” Syd whispers, causing me to let out an obnoxious laugh, complete with a snort.
“I didn’t know that this dinner came with a show,” Bren teases, pulling out her phone. She is always ready to capture the content. The fans are going to eat this up.
“We always aim to entertain,” Ryder responds with a wink to Bren. The new kid is coming on strong. He fits right in. “Have a seat, ladies. Keith will lead you through the tasting.”
“I like a man who takes charge,” Libby murmurs.
“Yeah, Lib, does Blaine take charge?” Syd retorts. Libby gives her a menacing glare that is so ice cold even a quick chill runs through me from witnessing it.
Keith hands us all three different note cards to score each dish based on presentation, taste, creativity, and use of the secret ingredient, dried apricots.
“Sadly, you can’t include the actual presentation of the chef in your scores,” Tyler says as he waves a hand down his body. “The chefs must remain secret.”
With a very evident eye roll, Keith instructs us which dish to taste first. It appears to be chicken and mashed potatoes. Bren cuts into the chicken and I gape at the pink slimy center she reveals.
“I am not eating that,” Bren protests. “This entrée gets a zero. It’s not edible.”
“I told you we needed to cook it longer!” Blake hisses to Harlan.
“We can try the potatoes!” I chime in, trying to find the positive in the grotesque situation. Squeezing my eyes shut, I reluctantly take the smallest bite possible of the mashed potatoes. Not bad. They are garlicky and smooth. I take another bite, reassuring the girls before they take a taste as well.
“Mmm, tasty!” Bren declares, jotting down some notes on her scorecard as the girls whisper their feedback to each other.
“Next dish!” Keith places another chicken dish in front of us with broccoli. This one appears to be thoroughly cooked with a crisp outside bordering more on burnt than browned. As I cut into the chicken, it’s a little rubbery, but I would take overcooked chicken over food poisoning any day.
The sweetness delights my tastebuds as I take a bite of broccoli. “Does this broccoli have apricots mixed in?” I ask.
“Yes! It’s good, right?” Ryder proclaims. Tyler elbows him, signaling for him to be quiet. We clearly know who the first two dishes belong to, which means Lucas and Blaine have the last one.
“Last dish!” Keith announces when Brooks sets a beautifully plated dish in front of us. There are slices of pork topped with some type of sauce and broccolini. My absolute favorite.
“Wow, that looks like it’s from a restaurant,” Bren mumbles.
If my tastebuds were delighted by the tangy, sweetness of the broccoli from Tyler and Ryder, then my tastebuds must be in heaven right now. A small moan almost slips from my lips as I take another bite.
“Holy hell,” Bren says, putting her hand on her mouth.
“Yep. This wins! No competition,” Syd declares.
“What is it? I need it daily. Tell me now,” Libby demands, licking her fork clean of the impeccable sauce.
“Pork tenderloin with a peach, apricot glaze,” Blaine responds, his eyes locked on Libby as she goes for another bite.
“And broccolini,” Lucas chimes in.
“Broccolini is my favorite!” I state, my eyes locking with Lucas, who mouths, “I know” and gives me a wink.
“Of course they win,” Tyler complains, the towel that was over his shoulder minutes ago now on the ground.
“Tyler, don’t be a sore loser,” Bren teases him.
“Your chicken was overcooked, Tyler,” I explain, not understanding why Tyler is being so bitter. “But the broccoli was great.”
