“Recount!” a man yells out.
“Boo!” another man says. “The voting is rigged!”
“Oh, hush now,” a woman says. “No booing. That is unsportsmanlike, Buddy.”
I can’t see who reprimanded him but it sounds like Lucy.
When I make my way over there, Winnie is standing by the mac and cheese booth.
She has a bite of food halfway to her mouth. “Um…”
She looks totally confused.
I”m guessing we all do.
Chapter Eight
Winnie
I’m still chewing on the mac and cheese bite that was in my mouth when Miss Bettie stomps over and shoves a blue ribbon into my hand.
For a tiny woman there is a lot of force behind her actions.
Her lips are pursed tightly as she spits out, “Congratulations.”
I swallow hard, trying not to cough. I feel like I’ve been caught red-headed even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
Then Bettie stalks back over to the judging table, gesticulating wildly. I hear the words, “I know your mother,” directed at a woman in her thirties, who is sitting there shaking her head rapidly.
“That was nice of Bettie,” Ian says, like he honestly believes she was being sincere.
I turn to him in disbelief. “She was being polite to save face, but she isfurious.”
“But that was so generous of her to hand deliver the ribbon. I’m sure that it was really difficult for her to admit defeat.”
Ian is obviously a little naive when it comes to people. How could he think she was being nice? Or that this wasn’t a gross miscarriage of justice? There is no way I should have won and I feel like Miss Bettie is already investigating murder-for-hire to take me out.
“She always wins,” he adds. “Every Spring Fling.”
“I got that impression.” I shake my head, staring at the blue ribbon in my hand.
Most Delectable Dessert. Spring Fling, Wanted, Kentucky.
“She has a decade-long winning streak,” Ian adds. “Or longer. It’s possible she’s won the bourbon dessert contest every year since the invention of sugar.”
That doesn’t help my sudden anxiety at all. “I don’t think it’s possible I actually won. There is some kind of mix up. Did they switch the judging cards or something? You didn’t do this, did you?”
“What? No! I withdrew as a judge since Fred pointed out it was a conflict of interest.”
Because we kissed.
And damn, what a kiss.
It had lasted less than a minute but was long enough for me to toss my decision to avoid dating right now out the damn window. Even though I had promised Barrel I wouldn’t and even if I had told myself not to date a man who was my opposite ever again.
Didn’t matter.
Who cared?
