“Yeah, she was a jerk at the grocery store too,” he said with a nod. A smile stretched over his lips before she could add to it. “Wait, is she gunning for it too?”
Justine nodded. “And guess what? If she wins this year, she’ll be the first girl to win Pie Princessthreeyears in a row.”
Burke’s jaw went hard. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s not?”
“Not a chance. I’m telling you, this pie is something else. But…” His eyes went wide with worry. “You guys probably don’t have a store open all night, do you?”
She grinned. “The grocery store’s not even opennow.”
Burke shot the dashboard a look. “It’s not even three yet.”
“Yeah, but it’s the festival. Everything shuts down for it. What ingredients do we need?”
He shook his head. “I’m still a little disturbed that everything shuts down for this.”
She laughed and gave his arm a slap.
“We need butter,” he said, “flour, salt, vinegar. Let’s see…sugar and cinnamon, of course. Lemon juice…”
“I’ve got all of that,” Justine said. “But what’s the vinegar for?”
He puffed his chest. “The crust.”
“Hmm. Is that a secret ingredient?”
Burke nodded.
“And are thereapplesin this apple pie of yours?”
His expression turned chagrined. “Yes. And they have to be good ones. Granny Smith. Is it too late to get our hands on those?”
Justine considered that. “No,” she realized. “There are crates of produce stacked outside the market. We can slip a few dollar bills through the moneybox.”
“Sounds like…something that would never fly where I’m from, but that’s perfect,” Burke said. “So it’s on.”
Why did she like hearing him say that so much? “Okay,” she said. “But what about the PiePrincecontest? If I win princess, they’ll have me dance the first dance with the prince.”
“You didn’t tell me there was a contest for guys. If that’s the case, I’ll do what it takes to win.”
An untamed thrill shot through her chest. “Just like that?”
He nodded. “I’m not going to let one of these local goons twirl my fiancée around the dance floor. What do I have to do?”
“Eat a pie with your hands behind your back. Faster than the other guys.”
“Done.”
Another warm thrill sank deep into her chest. She smiled before realizing something—he probably wouldn’t be in town for the dance.
“Actually,” she said, “maybe we shouldn’t go after the titles after all.”
He tipped his head. “Why not?”
“Because the dance happens the day after Thanksgiving at the tree lighting ceremony.”
“The tree lighting ceremony?” His brow furrowed. “Man, they really keep you busy, don’t they?”
