A Serving of Forever (Lights Camera Insta-Love #3) - Jessa Kane Page 0,3

smile, crossing those beefy arms across his chest.

Can I have a bite of him instead?

“Ms. Beverley,” prompts the host. “It’s your turn.”

“Right.” Pasting on my unreadable critic’s expression, I take the offered fork and test all three cakes. The first wasn’t in the oven long enough and fairly leaks out onto the plate. Oh my. I give the blonde contestant a comforting smile. Next up is Desmond and a thrill races up my back. I’m eating something he prepared. With those huge, working man’s hands.

I fork a bite into my mouth and try not to be obvious about rolling it around on my tongue, but Desmond knows. He knows this is the closest I’ve ever come to sex and his smile disappears, replaced by something I don’t recognize. His features are tight, his tongue roving along his bottom lip.

“And the final cake?” The host gives me a playful elbow in the side and Desmond bares his teeth at the man. Hoping to keep the peace, I sample the final cake and set my fork down. “Now it’s time to vote! Sebastian Cove, would you like to cast yours first?”

The expert baker turned judge nods briskly at the blonde girl’s cake. “This one.”

“Erm—really?” The host chokes. “But it’s—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Sebastian snaps back.

“Right.” The host scurries in the opposite direction, stopping in front of Aiden Tulane, the hockey player famous for fighting on the ice, and the third judge. “Mr. Tulane? Do you have a verdict?”

He smiles and a gold tooth winks from the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. The beautiful redhead. Who else?”

Said redheaded contestant seems determined to appear nonchalant, but her fingers are trembling slightly.

“So far we have a two-way tie,” the host says, sidling up next to me and putting the microphone under my nose. “Ms. Beverley…would you care to break it for us?”

“I, um…” My pulse tickles the inside so of my veins and I shift side to side under the power of Desmond’s stare. His cake was the best one—hands down—so I’m not lying when I say, “Desmond gets my vote.”

With a victory yell, the fireman throws his chef’s hat up in the air and catches it. Behind him in the audience, his sister’s jeer at his back, but he only chuckles in response.

When my cheeks start to protest, I realize I’m smiling like a dodo bird.

Meanwhile the host is visibly panicked. “Uh…well, this is unprecedented.” He laughs nervously. “I mean, of course it is. This is the first episode…” He clears his throat. “Might be the last, too, since we were clearly unprepared for his outcome! I hereby declare a three-way tie!”

The audience delivers the slowest clap in history and as soon as the cameras go dark, I’m being ushered backstage by two girls in headsets. They’re rushing through an explanation of the forms I need to sign and a post-filming interview I need to conduct. But I’m more interested in the firefighter whose gaze I can feel drilling into my back. I look back over my shoulder and find Desmond staring after me. He takes a step in my direction, as if he’s going to chase me down, but before he can advance, his sisters step into his path and block him.

Disappointment makes my shoulders slump.

I guess that’s that. I’ll never see him again.

Little do I know how wrong that assumption is…

3

Desmond

She’s not getting away from me that easily.

My sisters must have sensed my interest in Quinn because they thwarted my mission to get the restaurant critic’s phone number. And if I’m being completely honest, getting her number seems pretty damn mild compared to what I really want from this woman. I’ve had a boulder in my stomach since seeing her up close and personal during the judging round. She’s done something to me. I can’t blink without seeing her face.

I walk through the backstage area, stepping over wires and winding around equipment. One of the producers told me I’d find her in the green room, but when I opened that door, I found the redhead contestant making out with the hockey player. My classy girl was nowhere to be seen and I’m starting to panic.

Come on, Quinn. Where are you?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small figure bypass a snoring cameraman and duck out the back door. I don’t see the person’s face, but the elegant way they move tells me it’s Quinn and I stride in that direction, determined to reach her before vanishes into the