Some Like It Spicy Read Online Free PDF

innovation.”
    Morgan snorted. “Yeah, really innovative. Just like your coconut shrimp. Never seen fried shrimp before—thank you so much for introducing me to something so unique. I’ll be sure to bring that home to my restaurant with me.”
    “What restaurant?” Lance hooted. “You’re just a sous chef. How did you even get in this competition? You’re the only one here who isn’t an executive chef or doesn’t own a restaurant, except for Jolene. And let’s face it, you’re no beauty queen.”
    Morgan’s face turned red as snickers rippled around the table, and she stood so fast, she knocked down her chair. “You think you’re so much better than me—you all do. Think what you want. I’m going to crush you.” She fled the balcony after one last angry glare.
    Ashton could tell Morgan’s embarrassment was genuine, but she had a hard time feeling sympathy for her. Ashton could only hope the volatile woman was eliminated early.
    “Well, I thought everything was delicious,” Jolene broke the uncomfortable silence. “Let’s toast to new friends and a great competition.” The seven remaining chefs clinked their wine glasses.
    After they cleaned up, Ashton crawled into bed, exhausted. She longed for sleep, but her mind didn’t want to turn off.
    Tomorrow they would start filming. She wondered if she would see Ty. He probably rushed in to do the judging and a few promo shots before dashing off for a date with the latest runway model. She doubted he’d be around much. And if he was, why would she care? She was here for one reason, and one reason only: to make her restaurant the most talked-about place in Chicago.
    So why did he keep invading her brain? The only person on this set he would even look twice at was Jolene.
    Finally, a good reason to hate her.
    …
    “Uncle Ty, swing me!”
    Ty stared down at the little angel. Her chubby arms were outstretched, fingers clenching and straightening frantically. Powder-blue eyes twinkled with anticipation. “Swing!”
    “I don’t know, Laci,” Ty pretended to contemplate. “It’s almost bedtime and—” Suddenly, he grabbed the three-year-old by the waist and swung her in fast circles. Laci squealed and giggled, urging him to go faster.
    After a minute, Ty put her on the ground. “That’s it. The flying machine is broken, kiddo.”
    Her lower lip trembled. “Why?”
    “Because it’s old.”
    Before Laci had a chance to use the best tool at her disposal—crying—her mother Ellen saved him. “Time for bed, sweetie.” She bent and picked up his goddaughter. “Say good night to Uncle Ty.”
    “’Night, Uncle Ty.” She leaned toward him and wrapped her arms around his torso in a lopsided hug.
    “Night, pumpkin.” Ty kissed her forehead, nuzzling her baby-soft skin.
    “Are you coming?” Ellen asked Scott, her husband and Ty’s best friend.
    “Yeah.” Scott stood from the recliner and turned to Ty. “I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta tuck the kid in.”
    While Scott and Ellen put their daughter to bed, Ty wandered around the living room. He’d been in the house so many times over the years, and he still loved to look at the family photos. There was one of Scott and Ellen’s wedding, one of Ellen when she was pregnant, and a picture of Laci as a newborn, being cradled by her parents. In every picture, happiness radiated from their faces.
    A tight ache reverberated in Ty’s heart. They were the perfect family.
    Scott walked back into the living room. “You want a beer?”
    “Sure.” He easily caught the can Scott tossed at him.
    “So, what’s going on?”
    “What do you mean? You invited me to dinner.”
    Scott eyed him. “Something is going on. I can always tell. Spill it. Is it Vic? What did the prick do now?”
    Scott wasn’t in show business, so he couldn’t appreciate the shark that Vic was. Ty had met Scott a few months after moving to New York when he’d joined a bowling league to blow off steam. They’d hit it off instantly