Some Like It Hot (Sweetrock Cowboy Romance Book 1)

N
ick Bradford’s
entire future rested on the outcome of a chili contest.

Not just any chili contest, though. This was the Sweetrock, Montana, annual chili contest, which carried a ten thousand dollar grand prize. Nick shouldn’t have been worried—after all, he’d been cooking since he was a kid and made one of the spiciest, hottest,
and
most sought after chilies in Montana.

So why was his gut all churned up like the dirt in the middle of a rodeo ring?

Tipping up his black cowboy hat, Nick swiped at the sweat forming underneath and then adjusted it so as to avoid the glare of the early August afternoon sun while he surveyed the inside of his booth. The three-walled blue and white striped canvas tent was similar to all the other displays at the Sweetrock Fairgrounds. He thought he had everything he needed—prep tables, small fridge, a portable sink, and cooking areas. He hoped it would be enough—he’d never had to cook at a fair before.

But things were different now.

He gazed out at the rest of the grounds. White, blue, and yellow tents were set up in rows along the perimeter of the field interspersed with colorful vending carts and all leading to the rodeo ring in the middle. The grounds were empty now, but tomorrow throngs of people would descend, and the air would smell of hot dogs, popcorn, and fried dough while the happy cries of children mingled with raucous shouts from the beer tent and hoots from the rodeo ring. Right now, though, it was blessedly quiet.

Nick ran a visual check on his supplies one last time. Crockpots. Check. Electrical outlets. Check. Large Stainless Steel pots. Check. Fridge hooked up and working. Check. Spices…now where did he put that ground cumin?

Nick dashed over to one of the tables and rummaged through the unorganized assortment of spices. The voice of Beulah Grady, who had been the hostess in his family restaurant, The Chuckwagon, for about the last hundred years rang in the back of his head.

“You gotta get more organized, boy. How you gonna run this place with your parents gone?”

It had been a fair question. The truth was that Nick hadn’t paid much attention to the day-to-day operation of the family restaurant while his folks were alive. Heck, the restaurant had been in the family for three generations, and Nick supposed he just figured it ran itself. He’d taken for granted someone would always be there to run it while he spent his time in the kitchen cooking up the trail foods and meals his customers appreciated.

But then his mom lost her long-time battle with cancer, and his father died six months later, leaving Nick with a boatload of debt and a restaurant he didn’t know how to run. Now it was all on him and, unfortunately, it appeared his parents were just as disorganized as he was. The restaurant had been barely limping along as evidenced by the foreclosure notice he’d received just last week.

Nick’s jaw tightened. He’d already had to sell the family ranch to pay off some of their debt. He couldn’t even afford to care for his own damn horse. The thought of it twisted his heart. Nacho was his best friend, but with the ranch gone he had nowhere to keep him and all his money was going into the restaurant. He’d been forced to make a deal with the trail riding outfit in town to feed and board Nacho. At least he was warm, safe, and fed.

If it were only about Nick, he’d just let the restaurant go, but it wasn’t just about him. His sister, Rena, and her young daughter, Amy, depended on the income from The Chuckwagon. He couldn’t let them down.

A flurry of nerves battered against his stomach. So much depended on him winning this contest.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Nick’s best friend, Cash Campbell, had sauntered into his tent unannounced. Nick didn’t know how Cash managed to sneak around like that. The man was two inches taller than Nick’s six foot four frame and built like a sumo wrestler. He had to weigh almost three hundred pounds, but somehow he managed to move around as light as a ballerina.

“Sure,” Nick said. “You know I cook the best chili. People come from miles around eat it.” Nick hadn’t told Cash, or anyone for that matter, that the restaurant was in trouble. It was his problem to solve and he didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him or trying to give him a handout.

“Sure you do. I reckon you’ll do just fine.” Cash’s light blue eyes slid over to the booth across the aisle from him. The knot in the middle of Nick’s stomach tightened as he followed his gaze. All the contestants in the chili cook-off were situated with their booths in the same row.

He’d been so focused on his setup that he hadn’t been paying attention to the other booths, but now he could see the one across from him was set up with gleaming stainless steel tables and rows of methodically organized spices.

When had that happened?

“Whose booth is that?” Nick had grown up in Sweetrock and knew almost everyone who would be entering the contest. With the ten thousand dollar grand prize, it attracted a lot of interest. But he didn’t know anyone who would have a setup like that.

“Not sure. I heard talk of some new city slicker come down to enter the contest,” Cash said as Nick pushed past him to read the name tag on the side of the tent.

“Sam Dunn.” Nick turned back to Cash. “You ever heard of him?”

Cash shook his head.

Nick’s brows tugged together. He didn’t like the looks of this at all. He glanced back at his own space. It was a jumbled mess. This area was organized, but did that necessarily make for better cooking?

“What are you doing?” The velvety female voice hit Nick in all the right places, and he spun around to see its owner. She looked just as good as her voice sounded. Long black hair, voluptuous full breasts, a slim waist, and a flash of anger in her gray eyes. Feisty. Nick liked that. He reined in the jolt of desire that coursed through him. It was obvious this girl was Sam Dunn’s assistant, and he’d better tread carefully.

Who had an assistant at a chili contest, anyway? The guy must be a real pro. Nick’s unease deepened.

“Just checking out the tent, Ma’am.” Nick flashed her his most charming smile. The one that usually softened women up. Except it didn’t seem to work on
this
woman. Which was just as well. Nick didn’t have the time or inclination to get involved with anyone. He’d learned long ago that getting attached only led to heartache.

She scowled at him and pushed past him into the booth. “Well, there’s nothing here to see.” She turned her back, ignoring him as if he was as inconsequential as a fruit fly. Which only made Nick want to soften her up even more.

“Hey, guys.” Nick turned to see another of his long-time friends, Tessa Riley, her arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Hey, Tessa.” Cash glanced at Nick, who shrugged.

Tessa had grown up in Sweetrock and was clearly bringing groceries into this guy’s tent. What was up with that?

“Do you know this guy?” Nick jerked his chin toward the name.

“Huh?” Tessa’s eyes drifted from Nick to the name tag and back again. “Oh, umm…you could say that.”

“Really?” Nick’s brows tugged together. He glanced down the row of tents leaning out to read the name tags. “I don’t recall any of the other guys having assistants. That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“Other
guys
?” the dark-haired woman said.

“Yeah, most of the chili cooks are men. I mean, except for Beulah but she doesn’t count. She’s been in the contest since Moses came down from the mountain.” Nick turned his attention back to the woman who had a bemused smile on her face.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So you think only men can cook chili?”

“Well, yeah…I mean, no. I mean, it is a man’s meal, Miss…what did you say your name was?”

“Oh, where are my manners,” Tessa said, one side of her mouth quirking up mischievously. “This is my college roommate, Samantha. Samantha, these are old friends of mine, Nick Bradford and Cash Campbell.”

“Ma’am.” Cash tipped his hat and shook Samantha’s hand, and then she held her hand out to Nick.

Her hand was as warm as the sunshine and as soft as velvet. Nick felt an unwanted tingling as he shook it. He let his hand linger, fixated on the way her gray eyes had turned slate blue. “Nice to meet you, Samantha.”

She withdrew her hand, favoring him with a bright smile. “Oh, you can call me Sam.” She nodded toward the name tag on the side of the tent. Nick’s heart froze, knowing what she was going to say next before the words came out of her mouth. “Sam Dunn.”

* * *

S
am watched
the two cowboys retreat to the booth on the opposite side of the aisle. They sure did grow them bigger here, she thought, her eyes straying to the first one, Nick. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she noticed how his broad shoulders tapered to a thin waist. How he had a little swagger in his step as he walked back to his booth, and now that she was looking at him from the back, she couldn’t help but notice how nicely he filled out those faded blue jeans.

Her eyes jerked back to her own booth. She had no business checking out some strange cowboy, especially one that was her competition. Though she had to admit it was cute the way his face had gotten all red when he’d realized she was Sam Dunn. What had he thought? That Sam was a man? As if only men could make good chili.

She’d show him.

She turned her attention to the spice rack she’d brought with her. She wasn’t down here to ogle cowboys no matter how warm and gooey their brown eyes were or how much they crinkled up at the edges when they smiled.

She had much more important business here. The chili contest. Double checking her spice containers, she made sure everything was labeled properly. Sam was nothing if not organized. Her parents had taught her that, and it had served her well. Almost too well, as she feared her organizational skills had had a part in her getting fired from her last job.

The thought reminded her of why she needed to win this contest so much, and she glanced back over at the tent across the aisle to make sure her competition wasn’t watching.

Why had they been over at her booth anyway? Were they trying to sabotage her somehow, or figure out her ingredients list? She’d expected the competition in the chili contest to be fierce—a ten thousand dollar prize was nothing to scoff at—but she’d hoped people wouldn’t stoop so low as to steal or commit sabotage. Maybe in Boston they would, but not out here in Montana. Wasn’t everyone here supposed to be kind and wholesome? At least that’s what Tessa had told her, but Sam knew better. She’d lived all over the world, and if one thing was true everywhere, it was that there were very few people you could trust.

She grabbed a rag and wiped down the stainless steel table she’d splurged on for a food prep surface. Everything here got dirty so fast. And the grasshoppers were the size of cats.

“Ughh…there’s so many bugs out here. How do you stand it?” Sam swatted away a gnat that was showing an interest in her hair.

“The bugs don’t bother me so much as the snakes,” Tessa said.

Sam jerked her head down, looking under the table and at the edges of the tent

Tessa laughed. “There’s none here, but you gotta be careful in tall grass. Especially if you take the horses out on the trail.”

“Oh.” Sam relaxed. She didn’t have time for horseback riding much as Tessa, who worked as a trail guide, might like to take her. “Now I really can’t wait to get back to Boston. We don’t have snakes there. Or all these bugs.”

“That’s too bad.” Tessa slid her eyes across the aisle. “I think Nick took a liking to you.”

Sam’s brows tugged together. She ignored the way her heart leaped at the thought of Nick ‘taking a liking’ to her, but she couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Nick’s booth. His friend had left, and he was there alone. His face was in shadow from the brim of his black ten-gallon hat, but the waning light accentuated the angle of his strong jawline and the flex of his muscular biceps as hefted a large stainless steel pot.

“I’m not interested in getting involved with any of your cowboys.” She turned back to Tessa. “And you know I can’t stay.”

“Well, I wish you would. I miss you.” Tessa’s big blue eyes were like an open book.

Sam could see her friend genuinely missed her. And the truth was that Sam missed Tessa, too. They’d been tight in college. Four years of doing almost everything together. Sharing the ups and downs. But Sam’s life was in Boston, now. Montana didn’t have the same level of sophistication and Sam loved the energetic vibe of the city with all the upscale buildings, fancy cars, and shops. Besides, Boston was the place she’d lived the longest. Her parents were both in the military, and she’d moved every year as a kid. She wanted to put down roots and craved the stability of having a home that was the same year after year.

Except she didn’t actually have a home. Not anymore. But that would all be remedied just as soon as she won this contest.

“You know I need to use the money from winning this contest as seed money to get a loan to start my own restaurant,” Sam said. She needed much more than ten thousand dollars, but most banks wouldn't lend her a dime unless she had some of her own money invested, too.