Some Like It Hot (Sweetrock Cowboy Romance Book 1) (10 page)

R
ena took
Sam through the accounting books. How much they spent on food and supplies for the restaurant. How much the linen service cost. What they paid for advertising. Then she showed Sam their processes. When and what they ordered. How they managed the extra food and leftovers. When they called in extra staff or had people leave early.

Sam could see that they were over-ordering with food going to waste. Beulah had been right. The whole process needed to be revamped and organized.

“It’s hard to juggle the staffing. Sometimes we end up with no customers in the restaurant but a full staff.” Rena shrugged. “I just don’t know how many people or who to schedule. And most of our staff have been working for our family for years. I couldn’t possibly let any of them go. They depend on the meager paycheck, even if they aren’t getting much for tips.”

Sam sympathized with Rena’s compassion for her staff, but business was business. She could already see that they were spending way too much money on paying people that were standing around doing nothing. There had to be some way to keep the people on, but not waste the money. She’d identified a few tweaks to their ordering process that might help with food waste, but they needed more, especially if they wanted to keep the staff on.

They needed a way to get more people to come to the restaurant. Their advertising budget indicated that they weren’t spending nearly enough. But that wasn’t the big problem. The big problem was they didn’t have a menu that appealed to a wide enough range of people. No amount of advertising would help that. They needed to make a change.

They could work on their profit margin, too. The food was inexpensive compared to other restaurants. Just raising the price of each meal even a half a buck would make a big difference if they got enough customers in.

After over an hour of studying and scrutinizing, Sam leaned back in the chair. “I have a few suggestions, but are you and Nick ready to make the necessary changes?”

“What changes?” Nick stood in the doorway.

Sam tapped the ledgers. “I have a few ideas on how you can cut costs and get more customers. But it’s going to mean doing things a little differently.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Like…”

“Menu changes, process changes, moving stuff around in the kitchen.”

Nick considered it, his eyes drifting from Rena’s to Sam’s. He could see how hopeful his sister was and how sincere Sam was. “Okay, you can tell me over dinner. I trust your judgment, Sam, and I’m willing to do anything to get the restaurant back on track.”

Nick had set up a booth, one of the tables that were in one of the old stalls. It was decorated with a white linen tablecloth, matching napkins, silver rimmed plates and hand hammered flatware with tiny turquoise cabochons on the handles. A candle flickered in the center of the table, casting romantic shadows over their dinner. The round table had a U-shaped banquette around it, and they slid into the back, sitting next to each other. It was cozy and private, especially since there were only three other tables occupied in the entire restaurant.

He’d cooked the meal himself—beef tenderloin, wild mushroom risotto, and asparagus. He held her hand most of the time, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand, her wrist. Sam had a hard time keeping her mind on the delicious food. But now having tasted it, she could see why people came. It was top-notch. The restaurant had real potential, and her heart surged for Nick and Rena, hoping that they would implement the changes and bring the customers back in.

They talked about everything and nothing, laughing and gazing into each other’s eyes. Sam forgot all about her troubles, the chili contest, her car being impounded, and the fact that she hadn’t yet told her parents the truth. It was like a dream from which she didn’t want to wake.

Beulah stopped by just as they were finishing up.

“I’d offer you dessert, but we don’t have that here.” She shot Nick a pointed look.

Sam laughed. “That’s another thing. I was thinking if you did expand your menu and add desserts, you would draw in more people. I’m sure there are lots of ladies talking their husband out of eating here because they want lighter fare and a little bit of something sweet to top it off.”

The fringe on Beulah’s vest swayed as she enthusiastically nodded her agreement.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Nick looked at Sam. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“I guess I could come up with something. I don’t think people out here would want the same types of things I’d serve in Boston, but I can figure it out and give you a list of what I think might work.”

“Great,” Nick said.

“Yeah, great.” Beulah echoed Nick. “But that’s not gonna help us tomorrow.”

Nick’s brows tugged together. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

Beulah smiled and whipped a piece of paper out of her front pocket. She grabbed the rhinestone half-moon glasses that hung from a chain on her neck and perched them on her nose, then squinted down at the paper, moving it closer to her face until it was only about an inch away. ”Food critic from the Daily is coming in to check the restaurant out tomorrow night. Name’s Nathan Hargrove. You know him?”

“Hargrove? He’s pretty influential.” Nick’s voice carried a timbre of worry that clutched at Sam’s heart.

Beulah put the paper down and slipped the glasses off her nose, letting them dangle on the chain at her chest. She fixed Nick with a serious look. “Then we’re gonna need to feed him proper. A full course. Soup. Salad. And dessert.”

“We can handle the soup and salad fine,” Nick said. “We make a lot of soups and salads are pretty easy.”

“Sure. But what about dessert?”

Nick’s eyes skipped from Beulah to Sam. “Do we need that?”

Beulah shook her head. “Of course, we do. But I got something for ya’. My grandma made the best pecan pie back in New York City when I was a little girl. I can make that for you.”

“Pecan pie! That’s my specialty,” Sam blurted out, suddenly excited at the prospect of cooking dessert for a food critic.

Beulah’s eyes narrowed. “Mine, too. I bet mine is better.”

Was that a challenge? “I don’t know about that. Besides, aren’t you too busy with hostessing here and the chili contest to make one for tomorrow?”

“Not any busier than you with the chili contest and your…” Beulah flicked her eyes from Sam to Nick and back again, “
extracurricular
activities.”

Sam’s cheeks heated. “I think I can handle it.”

“Well, then, it sounds like we’ve got a challenge going.” Beulah rubbed her hands together. “Competing pecan pies. We’ll use it as a draw to get more customers in tomorrow night. Better make a dozen or so, so everyone can have a taste.”

The gleam in Beulah’s eyes and the satisfied smirk on her face as she walked away had Sam wondering if she’d planned this all along. “I think I’ve just been conned. I wouldn’t be surprised if Beulah already had an ad out about this.”

Nick chuckled. “She sure is something. But it’s all for a good cause. She cares about this restaurant. Like I said, we take care of our own here.”

Sam’s heart warmed. No wonder Tessa loved it here so much. “I better get going. Tessa is probably expecting me.”

Nick took her hand. “Tessa knows you’re with me. I don’t think she’s going to wait up.”

Same scooted closer in the booth, snuggling right up against him, drawing her fingertip down the center of his chest, to his stomach, feeling the rippling muscles underneath. “Oh, really? Well, then, what did you have in mind?”

* * *

N
ick lived
in a small cabin that he rented. He made apologies for it the entire time they drove there, telling Sam not to expect too much. It was just a small temporary place for a bachelor. Sam didn't really care what it looked like. Nick didn't need to impress her any more than he already had.

By the time they crashed through the front door in each other's arms, their lips locked together, Sam was beyond noticing her surroundings. She had images of wide pine boards, a quilt, a big bed with a thick log frame, and the mattress so soft and comfortable it felt like lying on a cloud. When Nick threw her on it, laughing and giggling, she didn't have time to look at anything but him. Especially when he stripped off his shirt and then reached for hers. Their mood turned serious as they fumbled with each other's clothes, desperate to have that skin on skin contact.

They took it slower this time, exploring each other, finding each other's buttons and then pushing them to glorious, mind-blowing limits.

In between, they talked about cooking, their childhoods, their hopes and dreams. Sam discovered that Nick had had a passion for cooking since he was a little boy. Cooking and horses. The sadness in his eyes when he talked about having to give Nacho up because he was forced to sell his family ranch nearly broke her heart.

She told him about moving around, never being in one place for long. How she ached to put down roots. Out of all the places she'd lived in her entire life, Boston was the one she'd lived in the longest. Nick wondered if that was why she wanted to go back—because she'd been there the longest, not because she really loved it there. She talked about how she didn't fall in love with cooking until college. And how her true passion was baking.

Nick raised up on one elbow and looked down at her. The moonlight spilled in the window beside the bed, lighting it just enough so he could see her expression. "Why didn't you go into baking, then? Why are you opening a restaurant as a head chef? Why not just work in one of the big restaurants as a pastry chef or open your own upscale bakery?"

Sam sighed. "My parents didn't think being a pastry chef was a big enough career. To them, a bakery is small potatoes, but an expensive restaurant is more prestigious."

Nick could see the struggle between pleasing her parents and following her passion etched on her face. To open her own restaurant in Boston was a big undertaking. He knew she was competent enough. She'd certainly proven that with the suggestions she'd made for The Chuckwagon. Nick didn't doubt that she'd be a huge success. But, wouldn't opening a restaurant in Boston take a lot of money? And it didn't appear to him that Sam had a lot of money.

But Nick had a restaurant right here
already
. Okay, so he had to make good on the payments or he wouldn't have it much longer, but with Sam's suggestions, a favorable write up from Hargrove, and the chili contest money he'd be back in the black in no time.

Of course, Sam needed the chili contest money, too, for her own dream.

But opening a restaurant wasn't really her dream. Being a pastry chef was. Nick had a restaurant that needed a pastry chef. As he watched Sam drift off to sleep, the seed of hope that had sprouted in his chest grew even more.

S
am slowly came awake
. She stretched against the warm, comfortable body beside her. Nick. That's right. She was in Nick's cabin. In Nick's
bed
. Warmth spread in her chest and she snuggled tighter against him. It felt glorious.

But why was she thinking about pecans? Memories of the previous night came back, and she sat up in the bed. She had to make pecan pies! Her mind buzzed with thoughts of what she needed. She'd have to get ingredients. And a pie plates. Where was she going to cook the pies? It was still dark outside, and she could barely make out the interior of Nick's cabin. Had she seen a kitchenette with a stove in here somewhere?

But she'd be at the fairgrounds all day working the chili contest. The booths had been supplied with kitchen equipment. Small fridge, burners to cook on and hers had an oven underneath. She could put everything together during a lull in customers and make the pies then. Excitement bubbled up at the prospect of competing with Beulah. Sam always did love a challenge. But she was also excited that she would be baking something for a real restaurant that real customers were going to eat, and it could potentially help Nick and The Chuckwagon get a good review from the food critic.

If Beulah was doing some sort of advertising to bring people in for the pie contest, as she'd implied, then all the better. She hoped she'd have enough time to bake them. If she couldn't get enough done at the fair, she might be able to squeeze in some time to bake a few at the restaurant after.

She propped herself up and looked at Nick. Still sleeping, his face was peaceful as if he didn't have a worry in the world. But from what he’d told her last night ,he had plenty of worries. Suddenly, she wanted to be able to help make those worries disappear, and the pies were one way to get started.

She dropped a kiss on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open. He reached out for her, but she held him back. "We better get going. I have to bake those pies today, and I was hoping we could go to the grocery store first to pick up the ingredients."

He gave her an innocent look, mischief in his warm brown eyes as he peeled the covers back and looked down at her naked body. "I'd like to visit with Nacho this morning, too. I do that every day. But I still think we could spare a few minutes."

She laughed, swatted his arm teasingly and then skidded back on the bed. "Didn't you have enough last night?"

"Of you? Never."

She slipped out of bed then leaned back across, dropping another quick kiss on his nose. "Well, you'll have to suffer until later." Then she turned and ran toward the bathroom as Nick leaped out of bed to follow her. "I call dibs on the shower!"

The bathroom was tiny, the shower even tinier and it wasn't for lack of trying on Nick's part that they were forced to take separate showers. Sam went first, noting that the bathroom was quite plain. A white plastic shower curtain. An old sheer curtain on the small window. One toothbrush lay on its side on the small white porcelain sink, but there wasn't room for much more. The medicine cabinet was rusted, and the mirror pitted.

But the small room, with its rustic pine paneled walls, had the potential to be cute. All it needed was a few decorative touches like new shower and window curtains with matching designs. Maybe something with pinecones. And guest towels to match. A few decorative soaps in a pretty dish. Wait a minute…was she decorating Nick's bathroom in her head? She barely knew him, and besides, she'd be going back to Boston soon.

Instead of being excited about returning to Boston with her chili contest winnings to start her new life, the thought made her surprisingly sad. She decided to push it out of her head. No sense in thinking about that anyway. She should just enjoy her time here. And anyway, she had no idea when she was going to get her car back and without it, she couldn't very well drive back to Boston.

She toweled her hair dry and piled it up on top of her head. The sun had yet to rise, but it was hot enough already that she knew having it off her neck would be welcome. She put on the clothes she'd worn the day before. If they hurried, maybe they'd have time for her to stop at Tessa's to change.

She gave the bathroom over to Nick then busied herself by poking around the cabin. The cabin was only one L-shaped room with the bedroom portion on one part of the 'L' and the main living area in the other. The walls were pine boards, the floor also pine but painted a kelly green. Nick didn't have much in there. It was obvious he only viewed the place as a temporary stop. An overstuffed couch sat in front of a cast iron wood stove. One corner had a row of cabinets, a small round-topped fridge and a two burner gas stove. The fridge was empty except for two white Styrofoam take-out containers, probably from The Chuckwagon. The rickety table and captain’s chairs looked like they had been bought at a yard sale along with the chipped dishes in the sink.

But in the corner, there was one nice piece of furniture that drew Sam toward it. It was a golden oak roll-top desk that looked to be in mint condition. It was closed, and Sam ran her index finger along the roll, feeling the bumps of the little half-round pieces of wood that made up the cover. She touched the oval brass knob. It was cold and smooth. She wanted to pull it up and see the mechanism work as the slats of wood retracted into the back of the desk. She pushed it gently not wanting to force it. But it didn't budge. It was locked.

"That was my grandfather's." Nick had come up behind her. He seemed a little upset that she was touching it. Maybe he was touchy about his grandpa's things.

Sam pulled her hand back. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be nosy."

Nick's eyes darted from the desk to her, and then his face softened. "That's okay. You can touch anything I have," he said, backing her up against the desk his legs on either side of her, his hands on her hips. The innuendo in his voice was unmistakable. Sam was tempted, but if she wanted to make it to the grocery store, home to change, and get to the chili contest on time, they didn't have time.

She slipped out from underneath his grasp, laughing. "I'd love to touch everything you have, but right now I think we better get going." She tilted her chin toward the window where a thin orange line was starting to peek over the mountains on the horizon. "We need to hurry if we are going to get to the grocery store and visit Nacho. I was hoping we could swing by Tessa's so I could change. And it's going to be tight if we want to make it to the chili contest in time." Sam slid her eyes back to Nick. "You do remember the chili contest, don't you?"

"Yeah. I think you're trying to distract me from that."

Sam smiled and winked on her way to the door. "Maybe."

The sun made its appearance as they drove away, cresting over the mountains and shading the landscape with orange and blues. Sam had never seen anything so beautiful.

Happy Trails was their closest stop, so they went there first. By then, the sun had risen and the early morning rays painted everything a golden hue, making even the muddy horse ring look magical. Inside the barn, the horses snickered and whinnied. Sam passed Bella—the horse she'd ridden the other day—and gave her a little pat on the nose. The horses were starting to feel like old friends.

It was too early for trail rides, and they were the only ones in the barn. Sam marveled at how Nacho seemed to recognize and bond with Nick and her longing for a pet squeezed her heart.

Nacho bobbed his head as Sam rubbed the soft tip of his nose. "He's so soft."

Nick ran his hand down the horse's neck. "Yep, he's a good horse. I miss having him at the ranch…where I used to live. But it's not in the cards for me right now."

"Do you think you'll ever get to have him again?"

Nick shrugged. "I hope so. That's my plan. I was lucky enough that Vangie here at Happy Trails took him in for me. He's kind of on loan, I guess. She feeds and boards him and in turn I let her use him as a trail ride horse."

Another example of people in Sweetrock looking out for each other, Sam thought.

"You want to learn how to brush him?" Nick asked.

"Sure!" Sam loved the feeling of being in the barn next to the big majestic creatures. The smell of hay was a lot nicer than the smell of diesel fuel in Boston. The morning had a lazy feel, the kind of hot summer day where you know it will be sweltering later on but where there is still a kiss of coolness in the morning air. She didn't want to leave the barn even if it did mean she'd have to skip getting a change of clothes.

Nick showed her how to palm the brush and stroke the horse with long even strokes that gave Nacho's fur a silky shine.

Sam worked at combing his mane, running her fingers through the silky strands. "I've never been around horses much. They're pretty cool." Nacho nodded his head as if in agreement.

"Yep. Nacho's been one of my best friends for a decade. Haven't you, boy?" Nick patted Nacho's side and the horse flipped his tail and whinnied. "Well, I guess we better get going."

Sam was surprised at how reluctant she was to leave the barn. Compared to early morning activities in Boston, which usually consisted of fighting for a cab, sitting in traffic, or getting jostled on the subway, hanging out with horses was a refreshing change. The thought of having her own horse someday wasn't all that unpleasant either and if she stayed in Sweetrock…

Stayed in Sweetrock? Where did that come from?

She dropped the strands of Nacho's mane she'd had her fingers tangled in like a hot potato and wiped her hands on her jeans. "Right. We better get a move on if we're going to make it to the fair on time."

They made a quick stop at Dickinson's where she bought all the ingredients for the pecan pie. Walking through the store and picking out pecans, brown sugar, flour, and corn syrup with Nick seemed like the most natural thing. It felt as if they’d been grocery shopping as a couple together for years.

When they finally got to the fairgrounds, they were running late. She hadn't had time to grab a change of clothes, but she was feeling pretty greasy in her clothes from yesterday, so she texted Tessa hoping she could drop some off. She could change in the bathrooms at the fair. After a quick glance at the scoreboard—they were tied again, but Beulah had now popped up into third place—they separated into their tents and got cooking.

Sam's heart sang as she set the first batch of chili on simmer and started preparing the filling for the pecan pies. She was doing her favorite activity, baking. She had Nick to look at across the aisle, and she was tied for first place in the chili contest.

She was happier than she'd been in a long time.