Once the pies were in the ovens, she dabbed her brow and set the timers. Xavier wiped down the counter, his movements stiff and stilted. They worked in silence, the tension between them still thick and uncomfortable. She stacked her mixing bowls then picked up the rolling pin and carefully wiped it with a clean cloth. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to bug Blackstone to return the borrowed rolling pin.
Food tasted better when it was made with love. The pies had been crafted through anger, hurt, and frustration.
She'd wanted Xavier to take the competition seriously. Maybe she'd been too harsh. But she'd been so worried.
Her stomach ached, and her head hurt, and her shoulders felt like she was laden down with one-hundred-pound sacks of flour.
The heat in the room intensified along with the noise from the crowd. Sweat beaded on her skin and Ashley took a deep breath to dispel the tightness in her chest. The walls were closing in on her. Pie crust promises, easily-made, easily-broken, were one thing. But having her future rest on the fate of a pie and a judge's opinion was quite another.
CHAPTER TEN
The cameramen kept circling their station like sharks observing prey. Xavier cleaned up the mess in front of him, doing his damned best to ignore them and Ashley.
What the hell had gotten into her?
He kept an eye on the timer. When it beeped, he grabbed the oven mitts. She thought he wasn't serious enough? He'd shown otherwise. They'd both been so damn serious, everyone else was giving them wide berth. His phone had vibrated a few times in his pocket, no doubt from Ryan observing the tension from the audience.
Oven mitts in place, he pulled the apple pie from the oven. A blast of heat greeted him and the scent of apples, cinnamon and nutmeg wafted out, conjuring up memories of the holidays. Pleased with the results, he set it on a cooling rack and removed the ricotta pie from the second oven. The lattice-pattern top crust was picture-perfect golden brown, and the white filling peeked through just like when Ashley had baked it during the practice run.
She inspected the pies, attention entirely on the baked goods and decidedly not on him.
Whatever.
Frustration ticked through him. He shoved away from the pies and strode to the opposite end of the station.
Microphone in hand, Everson sent him an apologetic shrug and entered the area. "Ashley?"
In the corner of his vision, she squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, then turned to face his teammate, her bright smile at odds with her wounded eyes. "Yes?"
"Can you tell us about your pies?"
"We each picked a recipe. I chose my mother's apple pie. We made it so many times together over the years. One of the first things she let me help with was layering the apples for this pie." A real smile creased her cheeks. "I was a little kid, and made such a mess. You saw the filling, right? Sugar and cinnamon. I got it everywhere. But Mom didn't get angry. She complimented my efforts. And when my little sister got old enough to help us bake, well, it was double the mess. But by that point, Mom was letting me measure out the ingredients and even help roll out the crust. She didn't care about how I got flour on the floor or spilled sugar on the table."
Her wistful tone tugged on Xavier's heart. He regretted the way everything had transpired that evening. Joining Ashley at the counter, he discretely laid his hand over hers and lightly squeezed. "I'll bet it rivaled the kitchen messes my brothers and I got into when we baked with our mom."
She turned and offered him a careful smile. "Sometimes, I get too caught up in things to remember to keep baking fun, and memories like the one I just shared are good reminders. Anyway, baking this pie is special to me because it was my mom's favorite, and I miss her every day. The other pie we made has a special story too. Xavier should tell you about that one."
Xavier couldn't force back his emotions when Ashley laced their fingers together. "The ricotta pie recipe has been in my family for years, passed down from my great-grandmother to my grandmother, to my mom, and then to us kids. I'll be honest, coming into this competition, I didn't have any real idea about what I was doing. Even as a kid, I was more interested in football than anything else. But when my mom got sick, spending time with her was all that mattered. My brothers and I did anything we could to lift her spirits. And one day, we decided that we should cook for her. By that point, she was spending most of her time in bed. Keep in mind that the oldest brother was ten at the time. I was only five. We made a mess. Flour was everywhere. Then my brothers Leo and Shane got into a competition to see who could toss pieces of dough the highest. As we learned that day, it can stick to the ceiling."
While the audience laughed, Xavier smiled at the memory. "My parents came in while we were wondering how to get the stuff off the ceiling. Instead of yelling at us, they laughed. Then my mom hugged us for trying to make the pie for her. And my dad helped us clean up and then make it for real. We didn't have her for long after that."
He swallowed against a thickening throat. No one was smiling now.
Tears shimmered in Ashley's eyes. She squeezed his hand, and he bit the inside of his cheek hard until he regained control.
Then he continued with his story. "But I wanted to make the pie because of the memory of how she smiled that day. If she could see it now, I think she'd be impressed by
