Cook Off #3
And Jed’s dish is among them. My stomach does a little flip, as if I have any stake in this. The judges wait, apparently going for some dramatic effect, and I use the time to wander back to stand with Jed.
“It was a difficult year,” the oldest woman, the one who hadn’t cared about the camera, announces in a voice that carries. I wonder if she says that every year, though. My eyes drift from one dish to the next, and I know for a fact that one of them is Fran’s.
Fuck Fran and her barbecue.
…Not that I know her personally or anything. She could be a really nice person, I suppose, but I will always stand with my man; especially when it comes to his cooking.
“In third place, Ms. Mary Dell.” A woman only a few years older than me brightens, and her smile gets huge and excited as she stumbles past the competitors’ tables to reach the judges.
They hand her an almost pastel yellow ribbon.
She hugs it to her chest, twisting back and forth like the happiest girl in the world before shaking their outstretched hands.
The judges politely give her a moment to go back to her table, then the judge nods at both Jed and Fran.
“This is closer than any year I think we’ve had,” she goes on. “Our second-place winner is…”
There it is. Another dramatic pause. I risk a glance at Fran, who doesn’t appear worried in the least. Beside me, Jed stands stiffly, and I slip my hand into his to twine our fingers together.
“Fran Oaks.”
No one moves. Fran certainly doesn’t. Her face falls, and even during the smattering of polite applause, she just stands there, looking confused, until the contestant next to her finally nudges her forward.
That seems to break the spell. She walks on stiff legs to accept the red ribbon; her smile becoming more and more wooden the closer she gets.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as I lean into Jed. “You won. I mean, I knew you’d win. But you won!”
He barely has a moment to flash a quick smile my way before they’ve called his name, and my head jerks up when I hear the most obnoxious wolf whistle ring out over the applause.
Wren is there, of course. Grinning beside Cassian, Hazel, and Winnie, who are clapping just as hard and enthusiastically. Jed receives his blue ribbon with grace, giving a small nod to Fran, who’s still hovering between her table and the judges.
Given that this is the state fair, the atmosphere becomes casual again the moment he has his ribbon.
The contestants break apart to speak to one another, or start tearing down their stations, but I’m too busy admiring Jed’s ribbon and making him pose with it to take a few photos that will definitely be going up on our mantle.
“I love you,” I tell him. “I love you and I knew—”
A small clearing of the throat makes us turn to see Fran standing on the other side of the table, eyeing Jed’s workstation with reluctant curiosity.
“I suppose I owe you congratulations, Mr. Shaw.” She sticks out one wrinkled old hand and he shakes it carefully, like she might break. “I’ll have to do better next year. I think perhaps I’ve gotten a bit too comfortable with winning.”
It’s…not exactly nice, but Jed still takes the comment gracefully, anyway. “I look forward to battling you over barbecue again, Ms. Oaks,” he murmurs.
“Mmm.” She goes to walk away, then pauses, her eyes drawn once more to his workstation. “You use turmeric in your sauce?”
Jed exchanges a quick little smile with me before firmly slipping into his charming persona with her. “I do. And—”
I walk away while they talk shop, killing time with Winnie and Hazel. With most of the actual events over, the fair is clearing out some, though I suspect it’ll get busy again since tonight is the last night and there will be a fireworks show at dusk.
By the time we’re back in the SUV, I’m exhausted. I can tell Jed is as well, though he hides it better than I do. He turns the key in the ignition, then sits back in his seat, staring up through the windshield.
“I love you,” he says suddenly, surprising me.
“I love you too,” I offer. My words are surprised, though not at all hesitant.
“No; but, Saylor…” he reaches out to grip my fingers. “You don’t understand how much I love you.”
I just watch him for a few seconds. Studying his face in the evening light, focusing on the way he strokes the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb.
“And you don’t understand how much I love you,” I breathe with a soft smile.
He opens his mouth, but I quickly add, “Though I would’ve loved you less if you’d lost to Fran Oaks.
We never could’ve come here again, actually. ”
His response is a surprised bark of laughter, and he reaches out to snag the front of my tee, dragging me over the console as much as he can. “You’re a menace,” my boyfriend purrs. “My beautiful, oh so talented, little menace. You hungry?”
“No?” I give him a bemused look. “I’ve literally been eating gross fair food all day. I’ll never eat again. Are you hungry?” There’s no way-
His eyes dip and heat tingles down my spine.
Oh.
“Yeah,” Jed purrs. “I’m fucking starving, actually.”