One Pucking Destiny (Crane Hockey #4)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

BASH

C ade calls out to the group. “Okay, if you’re entering the baking competition, you need to say so now.”

Iris nudges my side. “You’re so going down this year, Bash.”

Cade’s wife still can’t get over the fact that she lost the cookie competition in Barbados to me. I’ll never forget the utter look of shock on her face when the votes were tallied.

“You talked a lot of game last year, too, Iris… and I’m sorry. What place did you come in?” I tease her.

She shoots me a playful glare. “It was rigged.”

Ari steps between us, and my body stiffens. I’ve been trying to play it cool today since she so adamantly shut me down last night, but I can’t say I don’t have a bruised ego. More than that, I have a battered heart. I was so sure that a fun day together, some playful banter, stolen touches, a tad of alcohol, and some lust-laden words would get her to give in. Hell, I was turning myself on. Her, though—not so much. Her resolve remained solid as a rock.

I’m confused as to where I should go from here. But truthfully, I’m sick of thinking about it. I’ve spent literal months obsessing over this woman. Now, she’s here, a room away… and she doesn’t want me. At some point, I need to throw in the towel. While I’m not ready to give up completely, I need a respite from the constant torture of not being with Ari.

Today, I’ve opted to just go with the flow. Be myself. Treat her the way I treat everyone else.

I remember our mom telling Hattie and me a story once about how we can’t change others, only ourselves. Our aunt, our mother’s sister, was going through a bitter divorce, one that was a long time coming from what I’m told. Apparently, my ex-uncle had some substance abuse issues that caused massive problems in the marriage. The troubles existed well before my aunt was married, but she thought she could change him. Moral of the story—she couldn’t. My mother wanted to make sure we knew that trying to change another adult would only end in unhappiness. People can only change themselves.

I’m not sure that message entirely applies to this situation as there is nothing about Ari I want to change. She’s perfect. I solely want to change her mind. But I suppose only she can do that, too.

So today… I am being myself, and Ari can take me or leave me. At least, at this very moment, I’m holding strong to this newfound resolve. Who knows where I’ll stand in an hour or two? Convictions of the heart are unreliable at best.

“What happened? This sounds juicy,” Ari asks.

Iris opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Nothing was rigged. Iris here is just a sore loser.”

Iris rolls her eyes. “You joining the competition, Ari?”

“I don’t know. I’m not much of a baker. There’s really only one cookie I know how to make,” Ari states.

“It’s probably for the best. I have it in the bag. You’re looking at the second annual cookie-baking champion.” I look around at the guys. “You hear that, guys? You’re all going down.”

“You’re quite cocky.” Ari frowns with a scrunch of her nose.

“It’s not being cocky when it’s the truth. I’m just that good. ”

Ari taps her finger against her lips. “Hmm… maybe I will compete.”

Beckett pumps his fist. “Yes, that’s my girl.”

Elena looks at him with so much love. It’d be a touching moment if Ari hadn’t just thrown down a challenge.

I shrug. “Suit yourself. I don’t care who I beat.”

“Oooh, Ari… are you going to take that disrespect?” Jaden teases.

“Sounds like we need to raise the stakes,” Max joins in.

The group starts giving their input, and everyone’s talking at once. I eye Ari and smirk, letting her know she has no idea what she just got herself into. The Cranes are competitive as hell. We’ll take just about anything and turn it into a fight for bragging rights.

Indecision flares in Ari’s stare. She eyes me, her brows furrowed in thought. I can see when the clarity hits her. She’s not backing down from a challenge, least of all to me. Propping her hands on her hips, she speaks up, silencing the group. “I’m in.”

There’s a boisterous round of hoots and hollers. Ari holds up her hands to silence them. “But I’m in agreement with Max. We definitely need to raise the stakes because Cookie here is a little too cocky for his own good.”

More cheers .

“What do you have in mind?” Sean asks her.

She taps her mouth. “Hmm.” Her face lights up when it comes to her. “I think when I win… Cookie here should have to get a tattoo of a chocolate chip cookie in the location of my choosing.”

The guys erupt in shouts and laughter.

“Yes.” Jaden hits me on the shoulder. “God knows he needs more ink to accompany his pretty butterfly.”

“Fine,” I agree. “And, if I win, you say yes.”

Okay, so much for my resolve. What can I say? My heart is a fickle little fuck.

Ari freezes.

“Say yes to what?” Beckett asks, eyes full of questions.

“It’s an inside joke between us. Not a big deal. I’ll explain later.” I wave him off, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible. I need time to invent something harmless Ari would be agreeing to. For now, all that matters is that she knows what it is.

I quirk a brow. “Where’s that confidence now, Ariana? You want to withdraw this bet?”

Realization sets in that she’s the object of the group’s stares, and she curves her mouth into a tight smile. “Uh, no… I don’t think I will. Game on.”

“So it’s a tattoo or a yes?” I ask her.

She nods. “Yep. But I can promise you, it’ll be a tattoo. ”

Jaden raises his hand like a dork. “Okay, can I compete just so I can eat the cookie dough? As much as I hate to say it, I’m not winning this one.”

“Everyone who wants in can compete,” Iris states. “You never know what the outcome will be.” She looks at me with the last sentence, and I know it’s directed at me.

“Okay, get to ordering your ingredients. Let’s plan for the taste testing in three hours, give or take,” Beckett says.

We all pull out our phones to order our rides.

“What about no-bake cookies?” Max asks the group. “Those are good.”

“Shh,” Iris warns. “You can’t tell anyone what you’re making. No one is supposed to know when it’s time for taste testing, so it can be fair.”

“I suggest choosing a cookie that has good batter. I mean, that’s the best part,” Jaden says.

“Do you want to share a ride?” I ask Ari.

She scowls. “And conspire with the enemy? No, I’ll hop in with someone else.”

“Your call. You’re really sure you want to go through with the bet? I’ll give you an out. Unless you want to say yes.”

She huffs out a breath, flicking her hair behind her back. “My answer from last night hasn’t changed, nor will this bet make a difference because I don’t lose, Bash. It’s something you should know about me.”

“That’s funny because neither do I. Only, there can’t be two winners, Ari, so one of us is going to be sorely mistaken.”

“One of us is leaving Texas with a tattoo of a chocolate chip cookie,” she quips before turning and walking away.

We return from the grocery store with our ingredients and get to work. Several enormous kitchens among the houses on the property allow us to split up with instructions to return to our house when we’re finished.

I make my grandma’s chocolate cookies with both chocolate and mint chips. They’re chewy, satisfying, and a crowd-pleaser. When my cookies are finished and cooled, I plate them up and return to the main house. I set my plate of cookies on the granite countertop of the kitchen island and wait. When everyone has placed their plate of cookies on the island, Elena randomly assigns them numbers for voting. The idea is that no one knows who made what cookie, but it’s impossible not to match up a few of the plates of cookies with their baker.

Beckett pours glasses of cold milk and instructs everyone to start tasting. In my opinion, only three cookies are in contention. Besides my own there is a savory caramel, pecan, and chocolate chip cookie and a simple butter cookie. At first glance, the butter cookie appears lackluster—a white cookie covered in powdered sugar. However, when you bite into it, there’s an explosion of flavor. It’s buttery, sweet, chewy, and flaky all at once. Something about it makes you want to keep eating more.

“When you’re done tasting them all, write down the number of your favorite and put it in the jar.” Beckett holds up a large Mason jar and sets it on the counter beside a stack of note cards and pens.

I make a show of trying all the cookies, but let’s face it, I’m voting for mine. I want that yes more than I want my next breath. I write the number assigned to my plate onto a strip of paper, fold it, and drop it in the jar.

It takes an excessive amount of time for everyone to try them all. “Come on, guys. Taste the damn cookies and vote,” I say.

A few of the guys laugh, and Cade says, “I think someone is nervous about that tattoo.”

I roll my eyes. “There will be no tattoo. ”

Finally, all the votes have been cast. Gunner grabs another cookie from my plate, and I take it as a good sign.

Beckett retrieves the slips of paper from the jar and starts calling out numbers as Elena tallies them up.

It comes down to my cookies and the butter ones. We’re in a three-way tie with one vote left.

“The winner of the second annual cookie competition is plate number three.”

I release a groan as Ari squeals in victory.

You’ve got to be kidding me.