Page 50 of Hometown Halftime

“That’s because you’re older,” she says lightly. “Or because you’re sober.”

“Both are valid points.”

Haddie clears her throat beside us, already grinning. “Since you two are standing here reminiscing, Riley, can you help Kinsey judge the chili cook-off?”

My brow pinches as I look at Haddie. “I thought you needed me to move a tent.”

She waves me off. “I can grab Coach Dalton. He won’t mind.”

Kinsey looks at me. “Are you up for it?”

I glance at the tables down the street where three of the contestants are already setting up.

“Sure. I like a challenge,” I say.

Haddie gives us our instructions, then we move together toward the competition section, falling into an easy stride. The crowd presses in around us with people saying hello to us in passing.

“This town never does anything halfway,” I say.

She smiles. “That’s part of the charm.”

The chili cook-off coordinator greets us and gives us our scoring sheets. Kinsey leans closer to read one of the handwritten labels on the first content’s table, and all I register is her warmth beside me and the scent of her perfume.

She glances around. “This feels like a bad idea.”

I grin. “Don’t worry, if chili starts flying, I’ll protect you.”

She glances up at me, eyes bright. “So noble of you.”

We sample the first chili, exchange looks, agree it’s too spicy, then laugh when the contestant launches into a defensive explanation.

Kinsey shakes her head, amused. “Looks like the fun has already started.”

“I like the idea of having fun with you, Kinsey.”

She meets my eyes with a smile tipping into something playful. “Same, Weston.”

Chapter twenty-two

Kinsey

Judging chili comes with wildly high expectations.

It requires honesty, but also the willingness to lie straight to someone’s face while they watch you chew. Riley takes to it like a natural, nodding seriously with every spoonful like he’s evaluating expensive wine instead of something that might double as a fire hazard.

“This one’s really special,” he says solemnly after the third sample.

“It’s horrible,” I whisper.

He laughs, and it’s embarrassing how much I like that sound.

We’re waiting for our next sample when Riley focuses on the next table’s display. In one hand he has a clean spoon, while the other is tucked into the pocket of his jeans. As discreetly as possible, I allow myself to scan his body. He looks absolutely edible today. He’s wearing a Cedar Falls royal blue hoodie layered underneath a jacket and to top it off, his jeans are faded in all the right places, highlighting his thick thighs and a butt that I definitely don’t want to grab.

He turns toward me, and my eyes dart to his face.

“This display is nice, don’t you think? We should give them a decent score there.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” I fumble.