Some Like It Hot (Sweetrock Cowboy Romance Book 1) (3 page)

Her eyes came to rest on Nick.

It was just the two of them left at the table.

Already halfway to the dance floor, Tessa looked back at them. "What are you two waiting for?" She gestured for them to join her and Cash.

Nick got up slowly and extended his hand across the table, his face set in a cocky, lopsided grin. "What do you say? You wanna cut a rug before we become adversaries in the chili competition tomorrow?"

All of Sam's warning bells were telling her not to dance with Nick, but she didn't really have much of a choice. She didn't want to look like a bad sport.

She rounded the table and took his hand, stepping onto the dance floor. As soon as their hands touched, she was hyper-aware of him. The scent of soap and leather wafted toward her, and when he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close, her pulse skittered like a frightened baby rabbit.

As Nick swept her onto the dance floor, Sam knew she should have paid attention to those warning bells. Because Nick Bradford with his deep brown eyes, cocky smile and cowboy swagger could be extremely dangerous to her heart.

* * *

N
ick got
a whiff of fresh fields and honeysuckle as he stepped onto the dance floor with Sam. She didn’t smell like someone he should be adversarial with. Didn’t feel like one, either. Not the way his hand snugged into the small of her back or the way her palm fit perfectly inside his as if they were made to go together. It made Nick wonder what other parts of them would fit like they were made to go together.

No sense in thinking that. Sam was his competition in the chili contest, not his date. Not to mention that she was going back to Boston soon, and Nick wasn’t the type for a quick fling. Though he might make an exception for Sam, especially with the way she looked in that short skirt.

Better keep your thoughts on the chili contest.

Nick was accomplished at the two-step, and he spun Sam around effortlessly despite the fact that she tripped over her own feet a couple of times. He made sure to keep an inch of space between them. No telling what might happen if he had her pressed up against him. As it was, her ample breasts had brushed his chest one too many times for him to keep to his gentlemanly thoughts.

Struggling to turn his thoughts to the chili contest, Nick wondered why Sam seemed so confident about her chili. What did she know that he didn’t?

“So, what makes you think you can compete with homegrown Montana chili?” He asked the question lightly, but then regretted even asking it as he watched the dreamy look in her captivating gray eyes evaporate. Her expression shuttered, and her posture stiffened.

“What makes you think your country chili is better than my sophisticated Boston chili?”

Nick laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say Boston is exactly known for its chili. Aren’t you guys known for something else? Baked beans maybe?”

Sam relaxed a little. “Yeah, you’re right, but I have a secret weapon.”

Nick almost stopped in his tracks. “You do? What?”

“Well, now, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?” she said coquettishly as he spun her around then pulled her in tight. Their bodies were closer now, her breasts against his chest causing a jolt of desire to run through him.

“I bet it has something to do with the heat and spice.” Nick’s voice was rough.

“That’s the key, right? You should know. After all, you are the chili king around here, aren’t you?” Her eyes, which had turned that slate blue color again, held a challenge and a spark of something else. Desire?

“But what’s the secret?” Nick leaned down closer to her and whispered. “A special variety of chili peppers?”

She’d stepped even closer, and now her sensual curves were melded against him. It felt like heaven. Her head was tilted up to look at him, and her eyes deepened as she answered. “Maybe a variety of peppers, or maybe a technique. That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Nick’s body tightened. “I’d like to find out.”

His mouth hovered above hers. So close. His gaze dropped down to her plump, pouty lips and he wondered what they would taste like.

Just a fraction of an inch and he could find out.

Then he realized the music had stopped. No one else was dancing. In fact, Tessa and Cash were standing next to them looking at them funny.

“What are you guys doing? The song is over.” Tessa’s face had a definite smirk, and her sapphire eyes twinkled with amusement as she walked past them leading the way to the table.

Nick heated with embarrassment and reluctantly let go of Sam. Heading back to the table, he berated himself for losing control. Heck, if she’d asked for his ingredients list he’d probably have given it to her like some virgin schoolboy with a crush. Maybe that was her plan all along, to charm his recipe out of him or get him so worked up he couldn’t focus. Well, it wouldn’t work. Nick was no schoolboy. He didn’t let a pretty face get him all confused.

From now on, he would have to keep his head when he was around Sam Dunn. For the first time, a niggle of worry settled in his gut. This chili competition might be tougher than he’d imagined.

I
t turned
out that the red cowboy boots Tessa had lent Sam were much more comfortable than her chef’s clogs, so she borrowed them the next day for the opening day of the chili contest. Instead of her white chef jacket, she put on a black tee-shirt, her favorite pair of jeans—the ones that were so faded they felt like a soft flannel shirt—and a blue and white checkered apron. Not only did she have to cook the chili, but she had to sell it, too.

The way the contest worked was that fairgoers who bought the chili could cast a vote. It was a good set up because she could also make money on sales of the chili. The scores would be tallied every day, so one could see who was in the lead each morning. The contest ran for ten days and on the last day, there was a proper judging with judges who had a culinary background. Their votes counted fifty percent toward the winner while the votes that had accumulated during the week counted for the other fifty percent.

Sam figured looking less like a chef and more like a country girl would sell more chili, and the more chili she sold, the more chances of getting a vote.

She’d already organized her booth to perfection the day before, so she got cooking right away. There wasn’t a big crowd this morning, and not too many of them were in her aisle looking for a bowl of breakfast chili. A few old cowboys with their white hats and gray mustaches. A gaggle of church ladies in bright polyester and a few middle-aged tourists seeing the fair while they were in town.

She couldn’t help but sneak a few peeks over into Nick’s tent through the sparse crowd. He wasn’t nearly as organized as she was and she caught him rummaging through boxes and throwing bottles over his shoulder, apparently looking for his ingredients. She felt a little sorry for him, but his disorganized mess might help her win the contest. Though when she looked at Nick’s broad shoulders and handsome profile, thoughts of winning were replaced by other much less innocent thoughts.

Images of their dance and almost kiss the previous night played over and over in her head. How would it feel to have Nick’s lips pressed to hers?

She wanted to know. But that was never going to happen.

She wasn't in the market for a boyfriend or a quick fling. She hadn't dated anyone in over a year, but it wasn't because she was broken-hearted and pining for Eddie. On the contrary. She'd gotten over him real quick and liked being solo. Unencumbered. Besides, she was here for the contest and the sooner she won and got out of Sweetrock with her ten thousand dollar winnings, the better.

She chanced another glance over, to find Nick looking at her. Their eyes locked and heat flushed through her body. Why did her biggest competitor have to be the hottest cowboy in Montana?

Her cheeks burned as she realized Nick was probably thinking about their almost-kiss too, and Sam was glad she and Tessa had made an early night of it.

Tessa was a riding instructor and trail guide at a ranch called Happy Trails. She’d had an early morning trail ride scheduled, so she’d wanted to go home shortly after the dance. Sam had been reluctantly happy to oblige. She knew in her heart that there could be nothing between her and Nick—long distance romances never worked out. Plus, she wanted a good night’s sleep so she could have a fresh mind for the first day of the chili contest.

The contest was what was most important to her.

So then why did she keep thinking about the feel of Nick’s body pressed against hers and that dark, lusty look in his eyes?

And why on earth had she told him she had a secret? Because he’d been acting so superior, that’s why.

His comments about men making the best chili and how someone from New England couldn’t possibly cook it had gotten to her and she just had to take him down a notch.

Daddy always said she was too impulsive. Didn’t think enough before she opened her mouth. It had gotten her in trouble before, and she realized she shouldn’t have lost her cool. She had a feeling she was going to regret telling Nick she had a secret.

She chewed her bottom lip, catching Nick’s eye once again. Was he looking over here to check her out or was he trying to figure out her secret?

Around ten o’clock the customer traffic picked up and she got busy, leaving no time to think about Nick. The spicy smells of the chili and the din of the crowds surrounded her and in no time, Sam got into her cooking groove.

Food prep and cooking put her into a meditative trance, and she moved easily from one job to the next. Juggling the tasks of ladling out bowls of steaming chili while making sure she had enough peppers chopped and the ground beef browned to go into the next batch, all the while keeping her crockpots and stove pots simmering so she would have a ready supply for the hungry customers.

She was busy taking the seeds out of a jalapeño pepper, being careful not to wipe her eyes, when a gravelly voice chimed up from the front of the tent.

“So, you’re the new contestant.”

Sam spun around but didn’t actually see anyone there. Where had the voice come from?

“Well, let’s have a taste of your chili,” the voice demanded.

It appeared to be coming from behind one of the large stainless steel crockpots she had sitting on the front table.

Sam stepped forward and peered over to find a little old lady bent over with her nose to the lid of the pot. She was only about four feet tall and rail thin. Her brown hair was pulled in a tight knot on top of her head, her face wrinkled like a piece of paper that had been crumpled and then gone through the wash several times. But her eyes, peeking out from behind turquoise-rimmed rhinestone studded half-moon glasses, were clear blue and as sharp as one of Sam’s best Henckels chef’s knives.

Sam wiped her hands on her apron, pulled off her gloves, and stuck out her hand to shake. “Hi, there. I’m Sam Dunn.”

“Beulah Grady.” The name sounded familiar, but Sam didn’t have time to remember from where before the old lady crushed Sam’s hand in her gnarled one, her handshake as firm as a trucker’s. She jerked her head in the direction of Nick’s tent. “So you’re fixing to compete with Nick Bradford, eh? He’s a hometown favorite, you know.”

Sam’s eyes flicked over to see Nick laughing and joking with a crowd of people as he served them chili. Her stomach tightened. He certainly was a favorite. Known to everyone, and from what she could tell, well liked. Could she really compete with that? “So I’ve heard.”

Beulah rocked back on her heels, her face scrunched up. “What did you say your last name was?”

“Dunn. Samantha Dunn.”

Beulah’s brows tugged together. “You know I recognize that name. Your people are from around here, aren’t they?”

Sam stared at the old woman. Dunn was a pretty common name, but oddly enough her people were from around here. Or at least her grandmother, the same one that had given her the chili recipe. “Yes. As a matter of fact, my grandmother grew up around these parts.”

“That’s right. Over in Chester, wasn’t it?” Beulah named a town to the north even smaller than Sweetrock.

“Yes, it was.” Sam was surprised. The old woman must have a memory like a steel trap. “Did you know her?”

“Not personally, but you know how it is in these small western towns. Everybody hears about everybody else. So that’s good, then. Hometown girl coming back to her roots.” Beulah winked at Sam. “I like that. It’s a good story. You here to stay?”

“Oh, no. I won’t be staying. I’m going back to Boston.”

Beulah’s left brow shot up. “Uh-huh. We’ll see about that. Once you city girls get a taste of this clean country living and Sweetrock cowboys, you never go back to the city. Heck, that’s how I ended up out here myself.”

Sam couldn’t imagine Beulah as a young city girl staying out here for some cowboy, even though she had to admit the small town of Sweetrock did have some endearing qualities. The clean air was a nice change from the diesel-scented air in Boston and the stretches of land without buildings that had made her feel exposed on her first day here now gave her a sense of freedom. She was even starting to get used to the bugs. And so far, everyone she’d met had made her feel at home. But none of those things—especially not the cowboys—were compelling enough to make her stay.

“So, let’s have a taste of your chili.” Beulah interrupted Sam’s thoughts.

“Oh. Right.” Sam ladled a big puddle of chili into the plastic bowl, dunked in a spoon and topped it off with a sprinkle of cheddar and a cornbread biscuit then handed it to Beulah.

Beulah pushed the biscuit aside and dipped her spoon in. She swished the chili around in her mouth. Her wrinkled lips puckered and her features contorted into a variety of faces while Sam anxiously awaited her verdict.

Beulah swallowed and patted her lips with the brown paper napkin. “Not too bad, but it’s not spicy enough. We like it hot around here.”

Sam glanced at the jalapeño peppers she had on the cutting board. She’d put as many in as the recipe called for. Did it need more? Maybe Beulah’s old tastebuds didn’t work properly. “It’s not hot enough?”

Beulah shook her head. “I don’t think so. Can’t say as it would beat mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yep. Three booths down.” She pointed down the aisle to a yellow and white striped tent.

“Oh, you’re in the contest?” Now Sam remembered Nick saying something about Beulah being one of the few women in the contest, and she’d since noticed all the other contestants were men. Sam felt an instant camaraderie with the old lady.

“Yep. Been in it every year for the past seventy years.” Her face contorted into a frown. “Ain’t won yet, though. In fact, I usually come in dead last.”

“Seventy years? How old are you?”

Beulah leaned in toward Sam and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Ninety-six. But don’t tell anyone. I got them all thinking I’m only ninety.”

And with that, she strode off, leaving Sam staring after her. Montana sure did have its share of characters. But the people were nice. Friendly. Not standoffish like they were in Boston. Maybe life here wouldn’t be so bad?

Thoughts of her family squelched any ideas about moving out west. Her parents were expecting her to come back and start a restaurant. She’d told them that was what she was doing, and that’s what she intended to do. Never mind that she’d left out a few details like how she got fired from her previous job and led them to believe that she’d saved up money. She couldn’t tell them she was a failure. Her parents didn’t tolerate failures.

A new wave of customers came, and she didn’t have time to think about anything but serving up chili. Chili that might not be hot enough. Was Nick’s hotter?

Maybe she should adapt her grandmother’s recipe?

During the next lull, she slipped the recipe out of her purse and went over the ingredients. She could add more jalapeños, or substitute some of the ones she had for ghost peppers. Ghost peppers were among the spiciest of all peppers. That would add some heat to the chili.

“What you got there?” The voice startled her, and she jerked her head up to see Nick looking over her shoulder. Had he seen the recipe? She shoved it in her back pocket.

“Just a grocery list.” She smiled.

Nick scuffed his feet like a schoolboy and Sam’s heart hitched.

Damn, he was cute.

“I just stopped over to see how you did on the first day.” He sounded friendly enough, but Sam was suspicious.

“Pretty good. How about you?”

Nick glanced over at his tent and Sam followed his gaze. The place was a mess. Spice containers and cans of tomatoes everywhere. The stove needed to be cleaned, and the serving table had gobs of chili all over it. Compared to her own place, which was neat as a pin, it looked like a bomb had gone off.

“Pretty good. I think I sold a lot of chili,” he said.

“You don’t know?”

Nick pulled a lot of cash out of his pocket. “Well, looks like I did here.”

“Is that how you keep track?” Sam was astounded. She had detailed records in the logbook of her sales.

Nick shrugged. “Is there a better way?”

Surely he must be joking. Didn’t the man own a restaurant? How could he possibly manage it if that was how he kept track of sales? Maybe he had an accountant or someone else to do that for him. Either way, it was none of her concern. Her concern was winning the contest and their little side bet.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to go for a beer and celebrate our first day of competition,” he said.

Sam’s heart leaped. Was he asking her out? Maybe if things were different she’d consider it, but right now they were competitors, and she wouldn’t be in town long enough to start something up. Though her heart seemed to want her mouth to say yes, thankfully her logical brain took over when she opened her mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re competitors.”

Nick stepped closer. The nearness of him raised the heat in her body and caused a flutter low in her belly. Never mind that it was already eighty-five degrees out, and she was drenched in sweat from cooking—somehow, his nearness made her even hotter. He traced his finger down her arm, and she shivered, despite being overheated. “I was thinking maybe we could compare notes.”

Sam's libido slammed to a stop.

So, that’s what he was after. Last night she’d made the mistake of telling him she had a secret and now he was trying to wrangle it out of her.

Well, she wasn’t that stupid. She had no intention of sharing anything with him. Nick already had a restaurant. He didn’t need the money like she did.

She stepped away. “Not so fast cowboy, I’m on to you. I’m not giving away any of my secrets so you can win.”

His face fell and for a minute she thought his invitation had been genuine and not a ruse to get information from her. Then again, he was probably just a good actor. Most men with his good looks were. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just a friendly beer.”

“Uh-huh.”

Nick’s eyes flashed with regret. Regret that she wouldn’t share a beer with him or that he wouldn’t be able to get her drunk and get her to spill her secret?

“Okay, then. You have a good night.” He tipped his hat and headed back to his booth.

Sam picked up a white kitchen towel and started scrubbing the front table. The chili stands were only open until six p.m. After that, most of the people were in the bleachers watching the rodeo and buying the food from the concession stands over there. It was already five forty-five, and she had some shopping to do afterward. She wanted to leave her area clean and organized.