The Contest

By Adele Morè

If I don't win this contest, there's no way my grandmother, the most important person in my life, is going to get her life saving medical treatment.

 

Trouble is, it's difficult to concentrate on what I need to do with the three hottest brothers in town running it.

 

I'm getting in way too deep.

 

Seriously.

 

Instead of getting friendly with each brother, I need to concentrate on winning this contest.

 

And then, things go from bad to worse, ruining any chance I might have had at the elusive prize.

 

Read The Contest now.

 

Adult content. Steamy scenes with HEA guaranteed

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adele Morè
• Release date: Aug 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393490241

Book preview

Chapter 1 Alex

S hit, I mutter under my breath, hoping whoever is watching me can't hear me.

It seems unlikely since I'm in a room without a microphone. Or at least I can’t see one. The glass windows in front of me are covered in some stuff that means I can't look out, but those on the other side can see every move I make.

Right now, I wish it was the other way around. No, wait a minute. What I really wish is, my nan hadn't put me up to this. I should have never agreed to this absurd idea.

A cooking contest. No. Wait. It had just been called the contest in the original entry form, which had asked for a picture to start with. There’d been small print, which I had not read. It had been my nan who’d done that.

My nan had picked the image, saying, how hard can it be? Just make that cake you're good at making and use your charm, and you'll win.

What about getting picked based on my photograph? I’d asked, since the way she was talking suggested I’d been selected already.

Don’t worry about that, they’ll take one look at you, and you’re in.

After a lot of grumbling, I'd asked. What exactly can I win, nan?

Oh, you know, she'd been non-specific at first. I don't exactly remember.

As if, I'd snorted handing her the bowl of chicken soup I'd heated up out of the packet I'd bought at the little deli near our place. You know you can't pull that line with me. You may have others fooled, but I know you better.

My grandmother had grimaced before she'd sipped on a spoonful of the warm broth. A million dollars.

The way she'd casually announced this just as I had a mouthful of soup, made me snort out the hot liquid.

You've got to be joking, I’d muttered after I'd recovered.

Nan shook her head. When I saw the contest advertised along with the amount of prize money, I thought this is exactly what you need.

You mean what we need, I correct her, hardly daring to hope. So, you think I should enter?"

Nan nods.Look it’s all ready to go. You just need to sign here.

Just like that it was done.

I should be outraged, but I can't be.

It would solve some of our problems, she'd muttered quietly. That amount of money can you know, she’d trailed off.

Guiltily, I'd stared into my soup. She’d been right, of course. If I were to win, it would solve a lot of our problems. The biggest one being getting enough money for gran to receive her much needed treatment.

Except, right now, my chance of winning this darn contest is about as likely as winning the lottery. I should know, having bought a ticket every week for the last four weeks, ever since gran came home from the doctors.

Wiping my forehead with the back of my arm, I sigh.

How the heck am I going to pull this sinking ship out of the water? I mean, I've just managed to get egg yolk into the egg white. Everyone knows you can't get stiff egg white with even the tiniest amount of egg yolk in it.

There are no more eggs to be had.

This is something the organizer had been specific about. You nominate the ingredients you need and the amount, and that's what you'll get. No more. No less. Apart from random bits of things you probably won't use.

Shit.

This time I just think it.

The cake I'm trying to make calls for the stiff egg white to be lifted under the cake mix. Every other time I've made this cake, I've not had a problem.

Sweat beads pop up everywhere. They trickle down the side of my face.

What the heck am I going to do?

Think Alex, think.

My cooking skills are ordinary at the best of times, making this whole thing a bit of a joke. Why do it? To give my grandmother hope.

And because other people think my culinary ability is more than good. What can I say? Opinions on many things differ.

I'd do anything for my grandmother. And you know what they say. You've got to be in it, to win it.

She's been the only constant adult in my life. And now, I face the risk of losing her. She's been diagnosed with some rare disease that requires specialized treatment, which is very, very expensive.

We've got no idea how to pay for it.

This, as my grandmother had said at the time, would be the answer to our problem.

And I've already blown any chance I've had of winning it.

Cursing under my breath, I decide there's only one thing to do. I grab a spoon to fish out the tiny amount of egg yolk in the egg white mixture. Then I turn on the mixer and beat the living daylights out of the egg.

No matter how much I keep the mixer turning in the egg white, I don't get the stiff peaks I need.

After five minutes, I give up. Instead of folding stiff egg white into the cake mixture, I use a wooden spoon to mix the two together.

Then, I put it in the oven and set the timer.

Now for whipping the cream.

Thirty minutes later, I pull out my creation. My heart plummets into my big toe as my eyes fix on the disaster.

No. How had this happened?

Instead of a beautiful lemon cake, I'm staring at the thinnest cake crust imaginable.

Confused, hurt, and angry, I put the cake on my workspace.

It's only now, my eyes find the baking powder, all of it still in the small bowl.

Crap. Double crap and worm poo.

I've forgotten to add the baking powder, which is why the cake didn't rise.

Calm down, I tell myself, ignoring the overwhelming desire to run from the room. I mean, it's definitely an option. I could just tell gran it didn't work out. The competition was too stiff.

Except that would be lying. Nan brought me up not to tell lies, and I'm not about to start now.

No. I'm going to somehow salvage the mess I've created.

Or hope I'll do better in round two. Of course, I don't know if I'll even get picked to advance to the next level.

According to the entry conditions of the contest, there are five rounds. It is up to the judges’ discretion if you progress to the next round. And, it was impossible to work out what each round would entail.

All I was told was, the first round was baking.

In the fine print I read the organizers are three brothers. Dragon, Phoenix, and Chance Titus.

Unusual names, I thought to myself as I read the details. There were no pictures of them. I suppose there didn’t need to be, with anyone not living under a rock or on Mars aware of who these hot guys are.

Oops.

Wait a minute. Did I just think of them in terms of hot? Yep, I did, because they are.

I swear, any woman alive, would have to agree these guys ooze sex appeal. It's not like I go around checking out men, but I have seen pictures of the three attending important events the rich and famous do, and I have to admit, they're eye candy.

Okay, come on Alex, I scold myself, I'm not going to fix anything by standing here drooling over the organizers of the contest.

What I need to do is focus on fixing my mishap.

My gaze sweeps the extra ingredients that have been randomly left. There's a bit of fruit and custard.

Good. Thinking back to some of nan's desserts, a picture of one in particular comes to mind.

Grabbing a knife, I chop up the thing scarcely resembling a cake until I have multiple small pieces. Then I reach for several glass jars to put the cake bits into them.

Before I do so, I whip up the cream, an ingredient I had asked for, spooning a bit into the bottom first.

Then I cut up the fruit and divide it between the glasses. More cream and I'm nearly done.

Chocolate sauce would top this off nicely. Trouble is, I don't have chocolate sauce.

My eyes find the block of chocolate along with the liqueur.

Quickly I make up my mind. It takes me less than ten minutes to melt the chocolate. I add the liqueur. Making sure it tastes alright, I do a taste test.

Last but not least, I pour the chocolate mixture over the cream.

As the remaining drops of my homemade sauce trickle over the berries, the door opens, and I nearly drop the pot when I see who's walked in.

Dragon Titus, the youngest of the Titus brothers.

His dark espresso eyes find mine. I just about feel my panties do a runner. Wait a minute, did I really just think that?

Have you heard of the saying, 'she melted under his look?' No? Well, I'm telling you, I’m melting in his mere presence. I’m nothing but a pile of molten molecules on the floor.

Is it getting hot in here?

Alex, he strides toward me, clipboard in hand.

Yes, I croak, kicking myself mentally for sounding pathetic. What happened to creating an impression?

I'm Dragon Titus, one of the Titus brother's organizing the contest,

I know, I blurt out, feeling foolish as soon as the words tumble from my lips.

Dragon is gracious enough not to respond to my silly answer. Today, you've made, he doesn't finish the sentence as his eyes practically undress me.

Should I have worn tighter, shorter clothes to use my feminine charms? I have to laugh at myself for thinking such an absurd thought. Truth be known, I doubt I could do anything to this guy with the limited goods I don’t know how to use.

It's called Nan's favorite, I reply quickly, handing him a glass and a spoon.

Mesmerized, I watch him bring a spoonful of my creation to his delicious lips. Boy, they look so kissable.

Stop it, I admonish myself for allowing my mind to go to places it shouldn't. I'm not here to kiss one of the Titus brothers.

Mm, he murmurs as he closes his eyes to make the most of the experience, I suppose. Nan's favorite, he repeats after he's swallowed.

All I can do is nod. I don't trust my voice, as a myriad of emotions swirl through me. The overwhelming desire to throw myself at this guy frightens me. I've never felt like this before.

It's, he cocks his head to the right. It's like visiting nan at home and being hugged by her.

Swallowing, to rid myself of the fast growing lump in the back of my throat, I can't help but like his comparison. I'll have to remember to tell nan.

Thank you, I eventually blurt out, not sure what else to say.

I'll just consult with my brother's. I'll be back momentarily. Do you mind if I take these?

I shake my head.

The next few minutes are a blur as I stay rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on the door.

When Dragon returns, he's not alone. He's brought Phoenix and Chance as well.

Crap.

How the heck am I going to stop myself from falling with three of the hottest guy in the same room with me?

Alex, meet Phoenix, and Chance, introduces Dragon.

The other brothers take my hand to bring the back of it to their lips.

When lips meet bare skin, my universe collides with another. I'm thrown off my feet, tumbling through nothing.

Pardon? I realize I've been asked a question when three pairs of eyes stare at me.

"We've decided you are advancing to the next level. The next level will take place at our mansion. Are you prepared, as per the contest terms and conditions, to come and stay for the next five days?

The words are like an electric shock.

I, I hesitate, wondering what nan would say.

You don't need to ask me, child, she'd say.

Yes, of course, I just didn't pack a bag, I say truthfully. Not in a million years had I thought I'd get selected past the first round. No wait, I did get past the first round. I'm here. This is round two.

It's okay, we've got everything taken care of.

Dragon's smiling at me. You really baked your way into our hearts today, he says, and I believe every word, even though I shouldn't.

Why don't you take her back to our house, Dragon, while Phoenix and I stay to tidy up? proposes Chance.

Since I don't really care which of the brothers takes me, it sounds like a perfectly good plan.

Great, says Dragon as he turns to me. Just grab your things and come with me.

I brought a jacket and a handbag for my wallet and phone, which is what I get now.

As I return to the room, the three are huddled together in a powwow. Not wanting to disturb I stay where I am until Dragon spots me.

Let's go Alex, he says, and I make my way toward him.

Side by side, we walk to the elevator. We pass a couple of women who can't keep their eyes off Dragon.

Part of me is unable to believe this is happening. If I could, I might be inclined to take a selfie of me walking with Dragon Titus, but then again, I don't want to ruin any chance I've got of winning this contest, and so I don't.

In the car, Dragon's leg rubs along mine, igniting flames of desire behind my belly button.

Man, how I am going to get through this without getting sidetracked is beyond me, but now I'm here, I can't see how I can turn back.

Chapter 2 - Chance

N ow she's a hottie, mutters Phoenix as soon as Dragon's left with Alex.

Grinding my jaw, I turn to walk to my office.

I've got a few calls to make before I head home. What're you going to do?

I watch Phoenix ponder my question. Dark eyes roaming the room, hands in the pockets of his tight jeans, a casualness about him neither I nor Dragon possess.

No wonder the chicks line up to do whatever he asks of them.

It does surprise me to hear him say he thought Alex was hot. The women Phoenix tends to bring to the office are blonde with big boobs and very few clothing covering their bodies.

Alex, on the other hand, had been dressed extremely conservatively in long tight black pants, purple shirt, and her black hair piled into a bun at the back of her head.

I think I'll go over the other contestants to make a decision.

This comes as a surprise.

Really?

Phoenix nods. Really, really.

I see, I hesitate. You know, I start, but Phoenix is already turning toward his office.

Let me know when you're ready to call it a day, I'll come with you.

With a furrowed brow I stare after him. He's halfway into his room when he stops to look at me.

"Don't leave our youngest