Jazzy stood at the nurses’ station. Another nurse came up beside her. Roan recognized the woman as Andi Browning.
Andi looked smug. Jazzy’s back was to Roan, so he couldn’t see her face, but he saw tension stiffen her shoulders. The two women’s body language confirmed the gossip his mother had shared.
None of your business, Sullivan.He closed the door and went to coax Trinity into eating some applesauce.
A few minutes later, Jazzy returned with the vanilla ice cream and a sweet smile. “Here you go.”
Trinity abandoned the applesauce and reached with both hands for the ice cream. The night nurse had removed her IV and put a Snoopy bandage over the spot.
“Hang on.” Jazzy chuckled. “Let me pull the top off.”
She peeled the lid from the ice cream, gave the small cup to Trinity, then leaned over to drop the paper lid into the trash can. As she bent over, Roan noticed the way her scrubs stretched across her bottom.
Staring seemed rude and he glanced away. He refused to objectify Jazzy. Ever since he’d become the father of a daughter, he’d noticed how some men thought it was their right to ogle women.
“Hey,” Jazzy said, straightening. She’d fished the crumpled flyer from the trash can where he’d tossed it last night. “Are you thinking of entering this contest?”
“No,” Roan said, gentling his tone. Fear set up a bake shop in his belly. “I gave up competing.”
“Oh, too bad. This one is right up your alley. Campfire baking.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I see.” She dropped the flyer back in the trash can and stepped to the sink to wash her hands. Once she finished, she turned back to him. “I might enter.”
“You bake?”
“I’m a horrible baker.”
“Then why would you enter?”
“Andi Browning.” Jazzy sighed. “She beats me at everything.” She told him about her rivalry withAndi, and what had transpired at the bar last night, confirming his mother’s gossip. “And now, she’s engaged to my ex-boyfriend.”
“That’s gotta hurt.”
“I wish them well. I’m happy they’re happy...” She paused.
“Just once you’d like to win?”
Jazzy pointed at him. “You get it.”
For some crazy reason, that little finger pointing sucked him right in. She looked at him like he was something special.
“Baking might not be a winning ticket for you, Jazzy,” he murmured. “It takes time to perfect baking techniques and even longer to perfect cooking over a campfire.”
“I know. I just wanted to give it a shot.”
“The competition takes place over the course of the two days before Christmas Eve. That’s just under three weeks. To stand a ghost of a chance, you’d have to spend hours a day baking.”
“I’m off for a three-week vacation starting tomorrow. I’m using up all my vacation time and paid days off before I take a job as a traveling nurse.”
“No kidding.” So, she was leaving town. Too bad about that.
“I’m excited for this opportunity, but I want to beat Andi before I go. It’ll give me courage as I face the big wide world.”
“How good is Andi at baking?”
“She won the cookie challenge the last two years in a row.”