But Cash was a rock—an immovable statue of a man—the picture of professionalism as he presented his samples. I wondered if I’d be so gracious if I ever came face to face with my cheating ex. Cash was a better man than any I’d ever seen. My appreciation for his character shot through the roof.
“Yours was the last food to taste,” one of the judges said, still clutching her sampler plate. “We’ll step away for a bit and make our decision.” The small woman moaned with satisfaction when she took her last bite, and then spoke even though her cheek was bulging with unswallowed food. “We won’t be long.”
I hugged Cash’s arm and squealed. “Theylovedit!”
“I left it all on the field, as they say.” Cash gazed into my eyes. “But whatever happens, I’m glad you were here. As long as you believe in me, I know I can do anything.”
My stomach dipped when I spotted the spark in his eye. My lids fluttered closed as I anticipated the fiery kiss he was about to lay on me.
“There you two are.” Grandmother’s words cut through the crowd. Her voice wasn’t usually annoying, but now it was like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard to my ears. I’d never been so irritated at an interruption. My shoulders drooped, and I released the breath I’d been holding.
My eyes opened and Cash’s face was only an inch away from mine. He laughed, seeming to read my mind. “So glad you found us, Grandmother.” He winked at me, straightened his back, and kissed the air in my direction before turning to greet the woman with the worst timing in the world.
“I’ve been walking all over the place looking for you.” She power-walked toward us, her curly hair hanging wild and free around her shoulders. I still wasn’t used to her new look, but it was growing on me.
“I have news.” Her cadence was more like singing than speaking, and she had a spring in her step I’d never seen before. Something told me I wasn’t off the hook for the property she wanted me to buy.
I forced a smile. “Can’t wait to hear it.”
The crowd of judges sauntered back to Cash’s cooking station with wide smiles on their faces, only this time, they were accompanied by another woman. The same woman I used to see coming and going from Cash’s apartment when I moved in two years ago.
Chelsea the Cheater. That was my nickname for her, at least.
I had to look away from her plastic smile if I wanted to keep my cool, but that was easier said than done.
The little woman from before spoke up. “Mr. Walker, the judging panel is pleased to inform you that by unanimous vote, you have been selected the winner of this cookoff.” She dangled the keys to Cash’s new food truck for all to see.
Cash took the keys, turned to me, and wrapped me in a giant bear hug. He lifted me off the ground and growled out something between a holler and a howl. I couldn’t hold back my laughter as he spun me until my head swam.
He set my feet on the ground and gave me a kiss. “We did it!”
“No,youdid it!” I grinned so wide my cheeks ached.
“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t picked up the food from those farms today.”
“Speaking of which,” Chelsea stepped up to the table, “as chairwoman of the prize committee, I need to have a look at those receipts to verify that you followed the rules.”
“Sure thing, Chelsea,” Cash said. “I’m no cheater.”
“It’s just a formality.” She batted her lashes a few extra times, but I don’t think Cash even realized what he’d said.Hewas no cheater. It was a priceless and effortless burn.
“Have you got the receipts on you?” Cash asked me. “We just have to show that we bought the produce from the sponsors of the contest.”
“Sponsors?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s why you had to drive so far out in the sticks today, remember? We wanted the produce to be as fresh as possible?”
“I remember… mostly. But I didn’t remember you saying anything about sponsors. Just local growers.”
“The sponsorsarelocal growers.”
My heart leapt uninvited into my throat when a conversation we’d had long ago popped into my head. Hehadmentioned the rule about having to buy ingredients from the sponsors of the contest. This explained so much. Why he’d been so adamant about drawing out those maps for me last night. Why I’d needed to ask for receipts. And why I’d had the nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something.
My heart raced and my palms sweated as I dug in my pockets for the receipts.
I told myself to chill out. There was no reason to believe that the farmer from the side of the road wasn’t a sponsor. I mean, his farm had a name and everything. Crystal Farms. That sounded sponsor-worthy to me.
And even if the onions weren’t from a sponsoring farm, everything else was. What would they do? Disqualify Cash?
