Raffe was still thinking about Dave and Kim when he got back to the bungalow. The excitement he’d felt about the contest up until now had been tarnished by his talk with Dave. Sure, it was exciting to win, but was this really the right way?

Sarah was at the kitchen sink, her golden hair flowing over her shoulders as she sliced limes on a cutting board. Beside her, two ice-filled glasses of soda water fizzed, their bubbles clinging to the sides of the glasses. The air was spiced with the pungent citrus smell. She appeared to be immersed in her task.

Raffe paused to watch her for a second. There was another reason for him to win the contest now—Sarah. Winning would go a long way toward securing her future as a chef. Unlike Raffe, the money mattered to her. And somehow what mattered to Sarah had started to matter to Raffe.

Sarah turned to look at him, her smile lighting her face. “Thank you for sticking up for me earlier, I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to thank me. That’s what being a team is all about,” Raffe said.

Sarah turned back to the limes, avoiding his gaze. “I’m making lime soda. You want one?”

She tossed several of the limes into one of the glasses, squeezing the juice of a few of the wedges, and held the glass out to him.

Raffe stepped over to take the glass. His hand brushed hers, sending a jolt through him. He looked from the glass to Sarah. She looked up at him, a half smile on her lips. The sun shining through the window highlighted the gold flecks in her amber eyes.

“I’ve never had anyone watch my back before,” she said.

And then, before Raffe even knew what was happening, she stood up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was a whisper of a kiss, so quick he didn’t have time to react. Didn’t have time to pull her close and make it last longer. By the time he realized it had happened, she’d already bounced back down on her heels and turned back to the limes.

What was that? Probably just a friendly peck, a gesture of her appreciation. Friends did that, right? Sarah had returned to cutting the limes as if it hadn’t been important. So clearly she thought the kiss meant nothing.

Raffe was still clutching the drink. He shoved his other hand in his pocket to keep from reaching for her and giving her a proper kiss.

“Well, um, was that practice so we don’t knock heads the next time on the show?” Raffe joked.

Sarah laughed and looked up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Just a little thank-you kiss. I feel like we’re becoming partners here. Friends.”

Right. Friends. The kiss had been simply a friendly kiss. Which made sense, because she was probably still with this Tommy guy. She’d go back to him after this was all over and their fake engagement was dissolved.

His throat suddenly dry, Raffe chugged the drink, the prickly fizz of the soda water tickling his tongue.

“I was thinking you might like to grill some food tonight for supper.” Raffe put his glass in the sink, careful not to step too close to Sarah.

“That sounds great.” She didn’t look up from the limes.

“Great. I’ll grab something from the community kitchen and meet you down at the grills.”

“Okay.”

Raffe turned and made a beeline for the door.

* * *

Sarah watched from her spot at the kitchen window as Raffe’s broad shoulders disappeared down the path. She sliced into the last lime, the knife slipping and cutting her finger.

Damn! That stings!

She sucked on her finger as she walked to the bathroom in search of a bandage, her mind still on the fact that she’d kissed Raffe.

Why had she done that? It had been totally spur of the moment. But in that moment she’d felt so close to him. Maybe it was all his talk about being a team. She’d never been a team with anyone. Certainly not Harley. Maybe Tommy. He’d been the only one to stick up for her until now. Until Raffe.

But it had been a dumb thing to do, and when he didn’t respond, she’d had to make light of it. Pretend it was a friendly peck. She’d turned away to chop the lime so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. And he’d graciously made that comment about “practicing” to help ease her embarrassment.

Just as well. Things might have gotten out of hand. Once the contest was over, their fake engagement would be over, and the next time she saw Raffe Washburn he’d probably have a gorgeous model on his arm.

Her heart weighed heavy with thoughts of Tommy as she rinsed the small nick in her finger then wrapped it in the bandage. Was Tommy on the island? If so, why couldn’t she find him? And then there was her mother’s hopeful texts. She hadn’t the heart to tell her mother that she’d not heard from Tommy in almost a year. Her mother still thought she could pass messages along. Maybe the new leads she’d gotten from Kim would pan out. In fact, now was a good time to try them.

Her finger properly wrapped and the sting abating, she headed toward the living room, where her phone sat on the side table. It rang just as she reached for it. Marly.

“I just wanted to check in. I know you had another contest today. Did you guys make it?” Marly asked.

“We did. Actually, we won.” She probably shouldn’t have been telling Marly this information. They weren’t supposed to tell anyone the results of the challenges because the show wouldn’t air until a few months after the contest ended. The studio didn’t want any of it leaking out. But Marly was her best friend, and she knew she wouldn’t blab.

“That’s great. But why do you sound so preoccupied? Wait a minute, did you and Raffe kiss again?” Marly’s voice rose in excitement at the word “kiss.”

Sarah’s heart jerked. How did Marly know? Then she realized Marly was referring to the kiss Landon had forced on them after they won the bacon contest, not the one she’d just given him in the kitchen. Marly probably assumed that would happen every time they won.

“No. I mean the audience was calling for us to kiss, but it wasn’t really a kiss. We kind of just clonked our faces into each other,” Sarah explained.

No way was she going to tell Marly about the other kiss in the kitchen. That would only encourage her to keep trying to fix them up.

“Oh, well, that’s a start anyway,” Marly said. “So are things going good otherwise?”

“Sure. That crab that kept accusing us of cheating went home today, so things should be smooth sailing from here on out,” Sarah said.

“What about Veronica?”

Sarah’s gut clenched. Yeah, can’t forget about Veronica. Brenda had been a pain in the butt, but Veronica was dangerous. “There hasn’t been any funny business in the last two contests. Maybe she’s turned over a new leaf.”

Marly snorted. “Yeah, right and I’m Coco Chanel. You better watch out for her. The fact that she hasn’t pulled something in a while probably just means that she’s gearing up for something really big.”

“Yeah I guess. We’ll keep our eyes peeled.”

“Great. I’ll check back later.”

Sarah disconnected and walked to the front door and peeked out, making sure that Raffe was nowhere in sight. She pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper that she had gotten from Kim when Raffe had been drinking with Dave.

She’d shown Kim the photo of Tommy, but Kim didn’t recognize him. She explained that not all the homeless people knew each other. They formed cliques and kind of stuck together. But she’d given her contacts and the local soup kitchens and day labor programs. She knew it was a long shot, but she wanted to call to see if Tommy had frequented any of these places.

The first number on the list went to voicemail. She left a message saying who she was and that she was looking for her brother. Not a great start.

The next number a real person answered after several rings. She described Tommy. No luck.

She continued to dial the numbers, getting more and more discouraged with each call.

After the last number, Sarah threw the phone on the sofa beside her. No one had seen Tommy. He probably wasn’t even on the island. He might never have come here. Probably spent the money she gave him on drugs. She was going to have to resign herself to the fact that she might never find him.

Time to start thinking about her own future. She rummaged in her tote bag and brought out a small notebook. Slumping down, she started to jot some ideas. What would she do once the contest was over? She could always go back to work for Jasper. He had promised her that, but she wanted more. Working all day cooking in the contest and seeing what she could accomplish had shown her that she wanted to work as a chef.

Would Raffe hire her on in one of his restaurants? Would that be awkward? They’d see each other all the time. Did she want that? Did he?

He was opening that new restaurant in New York. Maybe she should ask? She doodled the name EightyEight in the notepad as she tried to visualize what it would be like to be head chef in a new trendy restaurant. Running her own kitchen. Calling the shots. Definitely something to think more about.

She wasn’t yet ready to ask Raffe anything, though. She wanted to prove herself first, and she definitely didn’t want him giving her a job because he felt obligated. Speaking of which, she didn’t want Raffe to come back and ask what she was doing. Not to mention, she still had to clean the limes. She slapped the notebook closed. Better bury it in her bag so Raffe didn’t see it.

As she leaned over and shoved the notebook deep into her bag, her phone slipped under the couch cushion so quickly that she didn’t even notice.