Page 52 of Hound Dog
I rolled my eyes. “Unless you’re on a date.”
“Nah. You just have to make sure you both eat them. It’s like mafia rules: everyone has to fire a bullet.”
“Did you seriously just goSopranoson me regarding onions?”
“Come on, don’t act like you don’t agree.”
“I like onions. But if I’m falling on that sword, it’s going to be for garlic.”
“Ah,” he threw a finger into the air while grabbing an oven mitt. Pulling the tray out, he checked on his roasted garlic.
“I’ve never seen anyone putroastedgarlic into guacamole before.”
“It’s my secret ingredient. Now that you know, you have to take it to the grave.”
I grinned at him and crossed my finger over my heart. “I swear.”
He pressed his lips together and, with a shake of his head, looked up at me over the bowl. “Not good enough. I need you to give me one of your tricks of the trade. Something equally ingenious and unique that you use in the creation of the guacamole you claim is so much better.”
“Oh, my guacamoleisbetter. I’m certain of it. I bet all you can taste inthatis onion. You could call it onionmole.”
“Hey, hey. Don’t hate on the onions. Now come on, cough it up. What’s your secret?”
I eyed him carefully as he squeezed out several roasted cloves of garlic and mashed them in with the avocados. I hated to admit how good that idea actually was, and for the first time since I issued this challenge, I wavered in my confidence that I would win.
Then I thought of the onions and felt immediately better.
“Okay,” I sighed, going to the fridge. “Now, this isn’t exactly a secret. But, you know how most people use sour cream?” I waited until he gave a little nod.
“I use Greek yogurt.”
His eyes narrowed at me and a smug smile crossed over his features. “That’s your secret weapon? Greek yogurt.”
“Don’t get too cocky yet. I add the minced garlic, lime, cilantro, andsomeonion to the yogurt the night before so the flavors infuse overnight. It’s not like Oniongeddon over there, but just a hint of onion to add to the avocado flavors.”
His smug smile dropped, lessening ever so slightly. “Hmmm. Not bad, Rogers.”
“Notbad? Come on. Admit it, it’s pretty damn genius.”
“Genius may be a stretch.” He circled around the kitchen island, grabbing a tortilla chip on the way. With a quick dip into my guacamole, he took a bite, then chewed slowly. Discerningly, he held out a palm to mine to shake. “That’s really good,” he said.
I lifted a brow and slid my hand into his. Electricity zipped up my arm at the contact, causing goosebumps to stand on end. Shit, I hated that my body reacted to him this way, and I felt suddenly guilty as Ben’s face popped into my mind.
With gentle tug, he pulled me closer to him. He towered over me by at least a whole head. Unlike Ben, whom I came almost eye to eye with. “It’s really good. A worthy opponent… but it’s not goodenough.”
I clicked my tongue as I pulled my hand from his and sighed. “Oh man.” I held up my palm to his face. “NowI’mgoing to smell like onions all day, too.”
He reached into the tote bag he brought and pulled out a weird looking trophy of sorts, fashioned out of avocado pits and a plushie avocado nailed on top.
“I say we let the people choose. At the hotdog stand, we’ll have a station where potential customers can taste each guacamole and choose which one they want on their hotdog. The winner who gets the most guacamole dogs winsthis.”
My face pulled into a frown. “I’m pretty sure that right there is my personal sleep paralysis demon.”
He set it down on the counter between us, and I followed him back around to his side, grabbing my own chip and dipping it into his guacamole.
Damn. This competition was going to be closer than I thought. That roasted garlic made all the difference. And the sweetness of it cut the bite of the onion.
Frowning, all I said was, “Hm.”
