“It’ll be fine. Come on. We have a cookie-baking contest to prepare for.” Because any competition or contest was a family affair. Luckily, it was Red competing, so there was no competition. Red was happy just to be a part of the fun. He didn’t care about winning. Had it been Ace, Joker, or Lucky, there would have been bloodshed and, most likely, something catching fire.
After a few hours of Red baking cookies, which everyone else happily ate and gave their thumbs up to, they helped him pack up all his ingredients and baking tools. Since the cookie-baking event was being held under a big tent in the town square near the market, they brought the dogs along, including Cocoa, who’d be asleep a good portion of the time.
The tent was bigger than Jack expected, not to mention more people were in attendance than he thought there would be. Winterhaven sure liked their baking contests. The baking area was also decked out with multiple ovens, tables, and refrigerators.
“It’s like a smallGreat British Bake Off,” Fitz said excitedly, sitting at the other end of the row so Duchess could lay on the floor next to him.
There were only four contestants and three judges. Clara stood behind one of the tables, a wireless mic in her hand.
“Welcome to Winterhaven’s holiday cookie-baking contest!”
Everyone clapped and cheered, then settled down as Clara continued.
“There will be three rounds of cookie baking, each round taste-tested by our lovely panel of judges.” She motioned to the three judges, who waved cheerfully at the crowd. He recognized them from different market stalls he and Fitz had visited yesterday. Good choice for judges. Their holiday treats had been delicious. “Let’s get baking!”
The contest commenced, and the crowd cheered the bakers on. Two of the bakers rushed around, getting their ingredients and supplies ready. Red did what he always did and lost himself in the baking. His friend always got this far-off look and a soft smile when he baked.
When they first got together, Fitz told Jack that cooking and baking were Red’s love language. How putting love into the food he was making for people made him happy. It also soothed him, which Red’s therapist agreed was good for his anxiety.
The contest went by much quicker than Jack expected and was fun to watch. At least, he thought so. Then again, he was used to watching all manner of baking shows. His boyfriend was a tad obsessed with them. That and period dramas. Jack could be dancing completely naked in the living room, and Fitz wouldn’t even know it because he was so enthralled in whether Lady What’s-her-name and Lord What’s-his-face managed to escape scandal.
Fitz leaned into Jack to whisper. “Your best friend is falling asleep.”
Jack glanced over at Joker, sitting at the end of the row. He was most definitely dozing. “Do you still have those dog treats in your pocket?”
Fitz nodded. He handed Jack a mini bone biscuit. Jack took it, made sure no one was watching, then flicked it. The mini bone whizzed down the aisle, smacking Joker in the face, then bouncing off where it landed in Chip’s mouth because the moment Chip sniffed that a treat was nearby, he was sitting up and ready.
Joker jumped with a start, and everyone in their row held back their snickers and laughs as Joker looked around, trying to figure out what had hit him. Edible evidence resulted in the perfect crime.
“And…time,” Clara announced. “Bakers, present your cookies.”
Each contestant chose a different shape for their gingerbread cookies. The crowd laughed and cheered when the judges held up Red’s cookies. It surprised no one that Red’s gingerbread men weren’t men but gingerbread dogs with little winter hats and scarves. One was a poodle, which Fitz loved.
Contestant number two made gingerbread reindeer, contestant three made gingerbread bears with little Santa hats, and contestant four made gingerbread Christmas sweaters. They all looked way better than anything Jack could have conjured up. Cooking wasnothis forte, and who knew what disaster would strike the kitchen if he so much as attempted baking. He’d already murdered two toasters just by touching them.
Jack sent a text to Ace as the contest was nearing the final judging. He leaned into Fitz and whispered, “Operation Merry Noel is about to strike.”
Fitz blinked at him. His gaze went to Ace, sneaking away in an overly suspicious way that said he was clearly up to something. The man was not subtle. With a gasp, Fitz moved his wide eyes to Jack.
“What did you do?”
Jack waggled his eyebrows. “I sent Ace to the café.”
“To do what?” Fitz held his breath at Jack’s wicked grin. Something told him he should have asked Jack what he had planned before giving him the go-ahead. “Jack?”
“I sent him to fix the water pressure.”
CHAPTERNINE
Oh, sweet, merciful Mariah Carey!
“And this year’s Winterhaven holiday cookie-baking contest winner is Red McKinley!”
Everyone jumped to their feet with a cheer, and Fitz did the same, clapping excitedly as Clara handed Red what looked like an etched glass cooking spoon. Red thanked her, made a little bow, and then shook hands with the other contestants, who congratulated him, all looking genuinely pleased for him. And oh, holy night, Jack had sent Ace off to fix the water pressure at the café. Ace was talented at fixing many things. Plumping was not one of those things.
Fitz whirled to face his boyfriend. “We need to go.” He leaned over Jack to whisper at Mason.
“Could you watch Duchess for a while?”
