Page 89 of Christmas with the Denton Billionaires

“I’ve been to the cemetery, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Mara froze, and her eyes flashed to his and all she saw was anger. “Oh shit, Chris. I knew that. I can’t believe I said that.”

“Save it. You don’t need to concern yourself with my family.”

Gnawing at her lip, she wanted to apologize again, but instead, she found herself saying, “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Chris worked his jaw back and forth as he turned to leave. But then he whipped back to face her. “I originally came over here to say good luck, because you’ll need it. I fully intend to win this competition.”

“Will I?” Mara scrubbed at a perfectly clean spot on the countertop, unable to control the snark flying out of her mouth despite her already putting her foot in it. If there was one thing that rubbed her the wrong way, it was arrogant assholes. She was in too deep at this point, and the baking portion of the competition hadn’t even started. She really needed to shut up. And yet. “I’ve seen your show, and I know how you bake. You really could have spruced up the fondant in that wedding cake episode, by the way. But you’re not a baker. You wouldn’t know.”

Chris’s jaw flexed. “You watch the show? I take it you’re a fan.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No. I’m not a fan. I’ve just had the misfortune of being trapped in a few waiting rooms while your show was on, and I couldn’t help comparing what you were doing wrong to what I do right.”

“You might not be a fan, but fifty-five million other Americans are. That’s not even counting international ratings.”

“I’m sure those numbers help you drift off into a restful sleep each night,” she shot back, feeling herself tumble headfirst into the tunnel of snark. “And with numbers like that, why are you even here? I mean seriously. You can’t possibly care about this gingerbread competition.”

She stopped scrubbing at the countertop, her elbow suddenly aching. Wouldn’t that be great—if she’d given herself tennis elbow simply from the pent-up frustration of being around Chris Denton?

“Why am I here?” The acid nearly dripped from his tongue. “I go where I’m needed. That’s what my career is about. And clearly, this competition needed an experienced hand to liven things up. Everybody loves me, Mara.”

“Not everybody,” she shot back.

His grin turned sardonic. Like he’d been waiting for her to go there. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Chris turned on his heel and strutted away, and all she could do was gape after him. The remark felt out of left field, but she also felt called out. Like he could somehow peer into her head and see just how hot her blood was running at the sight of him.

That didn’t mean she loved him. Even though she had once, she didn’t anymore.

She wasnotstill in love with Chris Denton.

She blinked, repeating this to herself as she busied herself in her kitchen again.

A decade was more than enough time to get over someone and move the hell on.

Wasn’t it?

3

CHRIS

“Places!”

The sharp voice of the director cut through Chris’s brain fog. He always woke up at six on the dot, espresso by 6:20 and at the studio by eight ready to start work, but something had been throwing him off from the moment he arrived today. As his gaze landed on Mara’s stony face, he had an idea of what it was.

“Are we ready?” The director, Paul, looked around the room. Both Chris’s and Mara’s teams were assembled in the network-provided aprons emblazoned with the competition’s logo. The first day of filming was about to finally start, and the only thing more nerve-wracking than competing against Mara was not knowing what her gingerbread plan of attack was.

Chris hated to admit it—so he never would out loud—but Mara was right. He wasn’t an amazing baker, but what he lacked in prowess he made up for in ingenuity. He could still bake circles around most people in the industry, but by the way she directed her assistants around the kitchen and arranged her equipment, he could tell that Mara knew what she was doing.

While Chris had an early interest in cooking, he didn’t remember Mara showing any interest, let alone baking, but judging from the brief bio Paul had included in their introductions, clearly she had an interest in the field.

What else has changed since then?He glanced at her hands, curious to see if there was a ring there. All fingers were bare. Not like she’d wear a wedding ring during a baking competition. But still. Maybe there was someone she called her boyfriend…or more probably, her husband.

And what if she was still seeing that asshole, Dan? Anger flashed through him, a sucker punch from the past. He hadn’t expected to be affected by high-school drama, but maybe that was a natural consequence of being back in Glenford. The memory of taking Mara to the winter dance popped into his head. She had looked amazing in her dress. He’d only left her alone for a few minutes, but when he got back, she was on the dance floor making out with Dan. It didn’t help that his parents had died shortly after when a drunk driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and hit them head-on. Moving to New York City to live with his cousins, Josh and Mitch, took him away from everything he knew, but it’d helped with his grief. It just didn’t stop him from stewing over finding Mara with someone else, and it’d been years before he let that go.

Or he’d thought he’d let it go. Now he wasn’t so sure.

---