Page 87 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

Once the limo stopped, he pushed the door open and stepped into the fray.

“Chef Chris! Chef Chris!” Shouts pierced the air, and security hired by the network carved a path for him through the people. “How are you feeling about the competition? Are you worried that your show’s ratings might fall if you don’t win?”

He smiled tightly as the questions rained around him. Not winning wasn’t an option, hometown niceties be damned. Now in its fiftieth year, the Glenford Annual Gingerbread House Competition was locally famous, and this year, it was going international. All because Chef Chris had agreed to participate, lending his fame to the holiday event.

Which meant the pressure was on.

“Chris!” A familiar voice broke through the din as he strode through the double doors of the community center. The early-December air was crisp and cold, but inside the heat made him eager to shrug off his expensive overcoat. In New York, he fit in with all the other rich celebrities. But here, back in his hometown? He already stood out like a sore thumb.

Chris’s assistant, Damon, wove toward him through the crowd. The only familiar face from New York City that he’d be seeing over the next two weeks of filming this competition reality show.

“There you are. We need to get you into the staging area. Everyone’s ready to go.”

Damon led him through the humming front hallway and toward the auditorium where the meet-and-greet would happen in advance of filming. Tucked into the back of the center was a multipurpose room where they’d be doing the bulk of the filming. Chris kept himself alert and smiling as he followed Damon into the auditorium. Who knew who he might see here, who he might need to be “on” for.

There was one person he already knew he’d be running into, and his entire body prickled with anticipation over it. Coming home to Glenford was one thing. But coming back here to face off against his first love—and first heartbreak—Mara Lancaster? That was unexpected, and he hoped competing against her wouldn’t be awkward given how they’d parted. If anything it would add an interesting dimension to the next two weeks of his life.

It wasn’t as if he could say no to this opportunity. When the network found out he was from Glenford, they’d reached out to the organizers and offered their production crew and a prime-time slot if they would allow Chef Chris to participate. They eagerly agreed, and plans were already made before his producer informed him about the competition.

His agent told him that he’d need to blow the competition out of the water as part of the network’s efforts to expand his demographic and take his success to new levels. Admittedly, Chris couldn’t figure out how beating home bakers on their own turf would elevate him, but he wanted to please the network, because he had plans of his own for his career, and they involved the network executives sayingyesto whatever he proposed.

The auditorium was almost completely full by the time he entered, and Chris hadn’t taken three steps before he saw her.

Mara lingered near the stage, leaning against the small stair railing as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Back in the day, he used to joke and called her Ginger Sinner—a nod to her fair complexion and strawberry-blonde tresses and her total disregard for any propriety when it came to making out behind the bleachers during football games.

But now? She was pure Ginger Stunner. Taller, somehow, and more elegant, as though the ten years since high school graduation had only served to refine her into a sharper, more breathtaking version of herself. Chris gritted his teeth as Damon led him closer to her.

Why did she have to be the one to win the Glenford baking contest?He’d asked himself this question a thousand times. The television network thought that the premise was infallible—hijack the local annual gingerbread house competition for Glenford residents so that they could find the best of the best to square off against Chris. It had the right amount of small-town charm, boosted by the Christmas spirit and everyone’s favorite vice these days—baking shows. It was already trending on all the socials and they hadn’t even started filming.

Mara straightened as he approached, her moss-green eyes shifting into a glare. Electricity shivered through him, and he could feel the frown settling onto his face.

He still hadn’t forgotten how she’d broken his heart in high school. And sure, they were damn near thirty years old, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t racing at seeing her again, and he had to swallow all those unspoken words and unresolved sentiments that he never got to share.

Damon cleared his throat and Chris realized he’d been staring at Mara, while she stared right back. Dammit, he needed to focus. His assistant gestured toward an open seat in the front row, and Chris made a big display of folding his coat over the back of the auditorium seat. Anything to kill time and not focus on Mara.

“We love you, Chef Chris,” was shouted by someone behind him and then others picked it up. Turning, he waved to the ones shouting, making sure to keep his smile in place as cameras flashed around him.

“Let’s get started, everyone,” Paul Michaels, the director of the competition, called out, clapping his hands for quiet before he began his introductory spiel. But it was all white noise, because Chris couldn’t take his eyes off Mara as she took a seat farther down his row. While she’d been frowning when they first saw each other, she had nothing but smiles for the people sitting nearby. Every inch of him was curious if she still smelled perpetually of strawberry lip gloss. Surely, at almost thirty, she didn’t hold the same habits as her sixteen-year-old self.

Or did she?

Chris’s nostrils flared as he shoved the thought from his mind.

“And that brings us to our competitors! Mara Lancaster of Sweet and Savory catering, here in Glenford, began her career training under a local baker before moving on to work in the only Michelin-starred restaurant in the area, eventually working her way up to pastry chef. Two years ago, she took a chance and started her own catering business, so if you like what you see during the competition, be sure to check out her socials for all the amazing dishes she’s made.” Polite applause filled the auditorium as the director introduced her. Chris clapped along with everyone else, reminding himself that he wasn’t going to let her get under his skin.

But when the attention turned his way and the director began the introduction about his famous show,Cooking with Chris, and all the recent accolades and touring and the third cookbook he was set to release, it was hard not to glance at her.

To see if she gave a damn. If she was impressed. If she even remembered who he was.

Mara’s moss-green gaze sizzled on him, and for a moment, Chris forgot where he was. What he was doing. What this was all about.

He swallowed a knot in his throat, jerking his gaze off her once the applause around him died down.

This baking competition was a piece of cake—literally. Well, cookie. Lots of cookies.

The real challenge was going to be having Mara within arm’s reach again, twenty-four seven, for the next two weeks.

A challenge he wasn’t sure he’d be able to overcome.

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