Fired Up by Gigi Templeton

Author:Gigi Templeton [Templeton, Gigi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2024-06-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Having reconnected physically with Layla helped to relieve some of his tension, yet Avery was still wound up over everything she’d told him. And the fact that he’d been damn close to the mark of her having a dangerous past.

The trampling that Jillian had suffered at a concert, forever changing her life, was a tragedy. Also an accident.

What had happened to Layla . . . that was a direct attack. The type of battery he couldn’t comprehend, even having lived with a man who had a short fuse and a mean spirit. Who couldn’t see past his alcohol-induced haze to recognize the damage he inflicted.

As kids, Avery and Chance had hidden this side of their father from their cousins as best as they could. Even their aunt and uncle, as much as possible. But the adults had their suspicions. Aunt Brett invited them to spend the night at the main house as often as she could, without infuriating Caleb by making him think she was trying to take his kids away. Uncle Royce stepped in a lot as well. Caleb would settle down, and life would go on. Until something else got his goat.

Family was family. You couldn’t pick and choose.

But you could reach a boiling point and tell them to get the hell out. And stay out.

Avery prayed the exile stuck.

He got the cowboys their morning chuck, and then started in on the turduckens he’d smoke in his pit for the first round of judging.

Layla had had breakfast with him and Chance, and she was now observing Avery deboning the chicken and duck. Ritchie prepped the stuffing, since the cooks were allowed an assistant if they had one, given the size of the staff they fed.

Layla couldn’t participate in any way other than ask questions. She set up her tripod in front of their workstations and attached her phone for video to document the process, but also, Avery deduced, to prove she wasn’t involved.

Avery already had his primary and secondary pits heating up.

He said, “I’ll smoke these at around two hundred and fifty degrees. Should take about five hours. Right around the time your crew and the judges come in, Layla.”

“Making this a one-shot deal,” she pointed out.

“Yep. I either nail the temp and timin’ . . . or I blow it.” Because there was no digging up the ovens and checking the contents. He wouldn’t disturb his embers or risk losing any heat by opening lids. He’d also have to prepare another turducken and sides during the segment, to demonstrate, live, how it was done. He’d then pull the finished product from this batch in his pits. So it truly was his only chance to get it right.

He’d claim the tension through his muscles was due to the pressure of wanting this to go perfectly, to win the competition. Unfortunately, he was still worked up over all Layla had been through. And talking about his dad, his childhood.

The plus side was that she lit up when the cameras rolled, and every time she smiled, it thrilled him, warmed his heart.

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