Her breath caught.
I covered her hands with mine. “When the cameras are gone and nobody’s paying us to bicker, I still choose this. I choose you covered in flour, mad about plating, and telling me my food needs garnish.”
“It does need garnish.”
“I’m prepared.”
She laughed, but the sound shook.
I lowered my forehead to hers. “I love you, Sunny.”
Her fingers tightened so hard in my shirt that the cotton pulled against my chest.
For one second, she didn’t speak.
I waited. That was the hardest thing I’d done all weekend. Harder than competing. Harder than not kissing her in front of the crew every time she smiled. Harder than standing beside her while Caprice read the final result.
Sunny lifted her face.
“You love me?” she asked.
“Yes, I love you.”
“You’re sure? Because I’m loud, and I overpack citrus, and I’m probably going to put a branded apron in this cabin.”
“I understand the risk.”
“I may name things that shouldn’t have names.”
“I assumed that risk too.”
“I’ll argue with you about smoke points.”
“You should.”
“I love you too,” she said, and the words came out quick, like she’d been holding them behind her teeth. “I love you, Flint. Even when you’re infuriating. Especially when you’re honest. Maybe not when you insult basil, but we’ll do counseling for that.”
I laughed against her mouth, and then I kissed her.
This time, there was no camera to respect, no crew, no score, and no prize money sitting between us like a question.
Sunny rose on her toes and kissed me back with both hands in my shirt, pulling me closer until I had one arm around her waist and the other against the wall behind her. Her mouth opened under mine, warm and hungry, and the kiss was mine because she chose it, not because I’d won anything.
I walked her back until her hips met the table.
She broke the kiss long enough to breathe. “Take me to the loft.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure. Take me to your bed, Flint, and keep me there without anyone yelling about focus.”
My hand tightened at her waist. “I can do that.”
“I had faith.”
We climbed to the loft slowly because I kept stopping to kiss her on every third rung. By the time we reached the bed underthe sloped roof, Sunny’s scarf was gone, her curls falling loose around her face, and my control had worn thin enough to show.
She stood beside the bed in the last blue light from the small window while I pulled my henley over my head.
