Page 78 of Match Me if You Can

A scowl tossed over his shoulder.

His door slamming shut.

“Right,” I say. “I guess apology not accepted.”

Then, muttering about Asshole Ambroses and maybe thanking the non-Asshole ones, I head into the bathroom, drop my stuff on the vanity, and turn on the shower.

It’s time to get my game face on.

* * *

“No, Steve,” Joan cries, batting his hand away. “Not like that!”

“Woman,” he growls, dipping the spoon right back into the pot and stirring vigorously. “Did you forget that I cooked all the time at the firehouse?”

“I didn’t forget,” she snaps. “But I don’t know what you can do and what you can’t.” She lifts on tiptoe and glares at him. “Mostly because you never actually cooked for, I don’t know, your family and instead had me do it all the time!”

In case it’s not obvious—Joan is clearly all-in on the cooking competition.

“Is it time to start dodging hot oil?” I mutter to Ace, who’s working next to me, chopping up vegetables for the chicken pot pie we’re making.

Oakes’s favorite.

So we’re all having a go at making one before he conducts a blind taste test.

Winner gets all the bragging rights.

Something that’s—as I’ve personally experienced—extremely important in the Ambrose house.

“Maybe,” he mutters back.

“I think it’s a good thing the Laurents are only flying in the night before the wedding.”

I glance at Noble, who’s in our group again. He’s fussing with the puff pastry—because, apparently, he’s good at puff pastry.

I’m on chicken and seasoning duty.

Mostly because the guys didn’t want to do the icky bits.

Hockey players are such babies.

“I think the Laurents flying in for less than forty-eight hours is the only reason I have a chance of closing this deal.”

Noble snorts and goes back to the puff pastry.

The volume between Joan and Steve increases.

I focus on the chicken.

“Did Ace tell you he was buying me a Bugatti?”

My mouth falls open and I nearly impale myself with the knife. Something Ace notices if the way he reaches over and snags in out of my hand is any indication.

Noble grins. “I’m thinking of getting it in Pearl. It’s classic and understated and⁠—”

I glance over at Ace.

Who’s scowling—and seriously, now that’s a familiar expression.