The Forest Hotel was unlike most of the other hotels on the island. It wasn’t focused on sweeping views of the ocean. Instead, it was nestled near the heart of the island in the densest part of the thick forest that covered mountainous terrain.

The parking lot was situated at the foot of a cliff. A series of stairs and platforms switch backed up the face of the cliff to where the hotel was perched high above them. An elevator system was also seated nearby, but the cars were full and the ride to the top was long.

The group of four—Miguel, Dominic, Esteban, and Blanca—were eager to reach the restaurant in the hotel and get seated for lunch as soon as possible. They weren’t going to wait in the impossibly long line to take the ride up to the top. Instead, they set off up the first set of steps without a moment’s hesitation.

Tourists and locals alike were making the hike up to the destination at the top of the cliff. The Forest Hotel’s restaurant was well advertised as one of the best places to eat on the island. With Mike there serving up gourmet-style barbecue for lunch, the demand had only grown.

The call of various exotic birds echoed in the trees. Several tourists stopped along the platforms to snatch pictures of the brightly colored parrots that flitted between the branches. A group of monkeys sat in the trees nearby, grooming one another and watching the humans from a distance. They were curious but unwilling to draw closer despite attempts by tourists to lure them in with treats.

The forest itself was humid, even at this time of year. The dense canopy overhead kept everything below damp and warm. Which meant that the upkeep on the hotel must’ve been extremely high. It seemed that many of their costs were offset by just how popular they were.

There was a rumor that they maintained 95% occupancy throughout the year. An almost unheard of number for the rest of the island. Not only that, but there was almost always a line to get into the restaurant. This was the stop that everyone made the effort to visit at least once every time they came to the island.

The trek to the top was long, but thankfully the four of them were in relatively good shape. Dominic couldn’t help but feel a little bit out of place though as Miguel and his friends joked together during the climb.

He knew Esteban from high school, and he’d seen Blanca around before. The two of them had stopped into Guillermo’s bar once or twice, but other than that they weren’t really friends.

It didn’t particularly help that Miguel was acting extremely weird. He wouldn’t look Dominic in the eye. Yet every time Dominic looked his way he caught Miguel staring at him. It was a little unsettling, and it made Dominic feel as if there was something he was missing out on.

The green-eyed little omega had grown incredibly shy in just the few hours since they’d last spoken.

Dominic could only assume that it had to do with the fact that he was around friends now. Perhaps he felt embarrassed? People who were aware of the long time rivalry between the two of them no doubt thought it was strange to see them in public together. Even with the newspaper article that Peter had released, most of the locals seemed to find it difficult to believe.

The hotel was extremely luxurious. It was built out of moisture-resistant lumber that was cultivated on another island in the Caribbean. The sweeping architecture, large glass windows, and airy design were built to not only blend with forest, but also to allow you to feel surrounded by the verdant greenery even when you were indoors.

The inside was carefully temperature and humidity controlled. Guests were offered moist towelettes at the door to mop the sweat from their brows and freshen up a little.

The restaurant opened up just off the lobby. A large glass roof gave an almost unobstructed view of the canopy overhead and allowed dappled sunlight to dance across the floor below. The tables inside were almost all full, and a large group of people hovered near the entrance waiting to be seated. A small sign near the entrance reaffirmed that none of the food served at the hotel had come in contact with peanuts.

“How many in your party?” asked a cheery young hostess as they entered the room.

“Four,” announced Miguel without hesitation.

The hostess skimmed a seating chart and made a few notes.

“It could be about half an hour before we’re able to get you a seat. Is that okay?” she asked as she looked up at them.

“That’s fine,” Miguel reassured her.

“Please wait over there, we’ll let you know when a table is available.” She gestured to the side where the others were already waiting.

The four of them shuffled off to one side and found themselves standing somewhat uncomfortably close as they waited.

“I’m gonna go find a restroom,” announced Esteban, slipping away from them.

“Wait, baby, don’t leave me.” Blanca followed after him like a puppy.

Dominic found himself standing mere inches away from Miguel who had turned his back on him. He seemed determined to avoid making eye contact as much as possible.

Part of him wanted to ask what was wrong. If he’d done something to make things uncomfortable between them, it would make it extremely difficult to keep working together. However, he was pretty certain that whatever the problem was it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t want to start adjusting his behavior just because Miguel had a problem with it. He was who he was, and that wasn’t going to change.

Still, his gaze kept drifting back to Miguel. There was a little mole on the back of the slender omega’s neck just where his skin disappeared into his hairline. Dominic caught himself wondering if that sun-kissed tan covered his entire body or not. Miguel had been the one setting the pace for them as they had climbed up to the hotel, that probably meant he had some nice muscle tone.

Dominic bit his lip until he tasted blood and tried to distract himself from such thoughts.

After everything Miguel had done to him, how could he even entertain those sorts of ideas? He was a pushy know-it-all who didn’t know how to back down. He insisted on being in control in most situations and yet didn’t seem to know where he fit in when he couldn’t have the dominant role. Not to mention the fact that he was the one that had pushed Dominic into such an intolerable sleeping pattern.

There was no way he was going to be able to sleep during the day and cook at night. It was too uncomfortable.

That’s right. Miguel wasn’t the sort of person he could possibly allow himself to be interested in. Even if it was just physical attraction. He needed Miguel’s brain in order to come up with a recipe to beat Mike. He wasn’t going to ruin that just because he got a little aroused.

Of course, it had been a long time since Dominic had dated anyone. He’d ended his relationship with his last boyfriend amicably, but that had been over four years ago. He hadn’t found anyone he really clicked with since then. He spent so much time around other people that he didn’t really notice the loneliness that came from a lack of physical affection. At least, not usually.

Right now however, as the odd man out in this little outing, he was keenly aware of just how lonely he actually was. Here he was standing in a crowd of people, only inches away from someone who knew him better than most, and yet he had no connection to him. All he could feel when he looked at Miguel’s face was a strange combination of anger, mixed with grief, tinged with an almost overwhelming sense of physical attraction.

Dominic swore under his breath and forced himself to turn away from Miguel as Esteban and Blanca returned. He needed to pull his thoughts away from this. He needed to focus on the task at hand. They were there to taste Mike’s food. They were going to come up with a plan to beat him.

They would win this competition and then everything would go back to normal. He could go on hating Miguel and life would be simple again. These confusing, conflicting thoughts would go away as soon as they were able to get away from each other.

He was certain of it.

* * *

Lunch was extremely satisfying; pulled pork sandwiches served gourmet style with a side of steak fries. Everything about the meal had been elevated by the superior ingredients available to the restaurant. The bread was thick, crunchy, and clearly had been freshly baked that morning. It had sopped up the sauce and ensured that every single bite was moist and full of flavor. The meat had been cooked to the point where it nearly melted in your mouth which contrasted well with the crunch of the bread.

The four of them left the restaurant feeling stuffed to the gills.

For Dominic and Miguel, however, they had been provided with an important bit of research. The flavor of Mike’s cooking had changed. They were certain of it.

He’d altered his recipe slightly and enhanced it at the same time.

“If we continue chasing after him, we’re never going to end up with a solid recipe,” said Miguel as he sank back against the back seat of the SUV.

“What’s that mean?” asked Esteban as he navigated the parking lot and pulled out onto the road.

“It means we’ve got to stop chasing him,” said Dominic. He looked out the window at the forest. A small herd of peccaries was running through the underbrush. “We come up with our own recipe, our own strategy.”

“We bring our best to the table and hope that’s enough to beat him,” agreed Miguel with a nod.

“No, we don’t hope.” Dominic looked over at Miguel. “It will be enough. We’re going to make barbecue that only we can make. The kind of barbecue you can only get on our island. That hundred grand is as good as ours.”

Miguel looked back at him with determination shining in his eye. They were in agreement. Their plan was set. Mike wouldn’t stand a chance against them now.

“Tonight, we start again. From scratch. We forget everything we tried to do the last few nights,” said Miguel. “All of our previous research doesn’t matter. Where do you want to start? We could use your recipe from this year as a beginning point.”

“No,” said Dominic, shaking his head slowly and looking back out the window. “We can’t start with the sauce. We need to start with the meat.”

* * *

“What are you talking about? That’s a Hawaiian thing in case you forgot.” Miguel didn’t seem sold on the idea. The two of them were sitting at the small kitchen table in Dominic’s apartment, writing down ideas.

“I know, but it’s an island thing. Pit-roasted pig. It would be a huge hit,” Dominic insisted.

“Maybe, but we’re talking days worth of prep and cook time. That’s not the sort of thing you can pull off in a five-hour contest. All of the meat has to be prepped within that five hour window. So we can’t do something like that,” said Miguel, shaking his head slowly.

Dominic sank back into his chair. He hadn’t realized it was such a long, drawn-out process. “So what then? He can import any cut of meat he wants. Even if we match him in the sauce we’re going to lose when it comes to the sheer quality of what he’s putting it on.”

“You said it yourself. We’ll cook something unique to us. So, what’s the one thing that every single person in the contest always does? The one thing we’ve seen Mike do consistently as well.” Miguel met Dominic’s gaze with an intelligent twinkle in his eye.

Dominic tried to focus. “The one thing that everyone always does?” That was such a vague question. Every single competitor had their own rituals and techniques. Their recipes were varied and different as well.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” admitted Dominic.

“Think about it. Mike’s meat choices thus far; beef, venison, buffalo, pork. Most of our competitors go with pork, chicken, even goat from time to time. All of those are pretty solid, traditional choices for barbecue.” Miguel seemed to be trying to lead Dominic to some sort of conclusion.

“So you’re saying we don’t do that. We go for something else entirely?”

“Yes, yes. Exactly.” Miguel seemed pleased. “And what is one of our island’s top exports? Something that we’re known for, other than tourism that is.”

“Squid?” Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying we make barbecued calamari?”

“Yes!” Miguel proclaimed, excitedly.

Dominic sat in silence for several long moments as he turned the thought over in his brain. It would require a specialized recipe, specifically tailored to the unique tastes and flavors of the squid. They’d also have to figure out the perfect method for cooking the squid. As far as he was aware, no one on the island had ever done something like that before.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us,” said Dominic at last. “But I think this might be it. Where do we start?”

“We go fishing.”