Some Like It Hot (Sweetrock Cowboy Romance Book 1) (5 page)

T
he next day
, Nick stared at the disorganized array of spices on the table in front of him. It was the third day of the chili contest, and he'd arrived to find the score from the previous day had been tallied. He was now in first place, winning over Sam by a narrow margin. It was a hollow victory.

Sam was busy in her booth, her back to him. The apron snugged across her thin waist accentuated the curve of her hips and had him wondering how those curves would feel snugged up against him.

He couldn't waste time or energy thinking about Sam. Nick had had his share of women, even a few that he'd been serious about, but he'd never met one that took hold of his thoughts like this one. Maybe it was the fact that she was his competitor or that she was just passing through. Either way, he had to stop thinking about her. His preoccupation with her was making him even more disorganized and affecting his ability to cook.

He'd even screwed up several orders at the restaurant last night. His usually perfectly-seared steak had turned out black, and his trail grub specialty had been left untouched on several tables. Nick was losing it. He couldn't afford to do that because of some schoolboy crush he had on a girl, even if she was just about the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He needed to rein in his hormones. This wasn't just about him—he had Rena and Amy to think about.

A pang of guilt shot through him as he thought of Rena. He'd hated lying to her the day before when she'd confronted him here in the tent, but he couldn't tell her the truth. He didn't want her to know how bad off the restaurant was or that they were near getting it taken away from them. Bad enough she'd talked him into letting her look at the books and try to revamp the restaurant processes. It made it harder for him to shield her from the truth of how bad things were. As a single mother, she had enough to worry about, and Nick didn't want to add to that. Rena didn't know he was banking everything on the ten thousand dollar grand prize of the chili contest, and she saw his participation in it as being foolish and irresponsible. Better she think that of him than know the truth.

With one batch of chili simmering in the crockpot, Nick measured out the spices for the second batch. It was still early in the day and traffic was sporadic, but he happened to notice a larger crowd at Sam's tent than his. No worries—the traffic tended to ebb and flow, and he was sure he'd have a line of customers to rival hers soon.

Once he had everything going for his second batch, he snuck another glance over at Sam, hoping to catch her attention. Just a glimpse of those baby-grays of hers. But she didn't look up. It was almost as if she was ignoring him. The reception she'd given him earlier that morning when they'd both opened up had been downright chilly. And here he'd been nice enough to share that ghost pepper with her. She could've at least shown a little gratitude. All the more reason to forget about her.

He tossed some ground beef into his cast iron frying pan and then turned to help the older couple that had come up to taste his chili. Soon another couple joined them, then a group of three men. Just as he thought. Even though Sam still seemed to have a steady flow of customers, his line was growing rapidly.

Nick knew that people were supposed to vote for the chili because of the taste, but it couldn't hurt him to pour on the charm, which he did, favoring the ladies with his boyish smile and chatting it up about fishing, horses, and hunting with the men. If the people liked his personality, maybe that would earn him extra votes.

Besides, Nick was a people person. He liked talking to them and getting to know them, even if it was only in passing. Soon he had the crowd in his tent laughing and joking amongst themselves, and the friendly vibe drew even more people over. Now his crowd was as big as Sam's and people coming up the aisle swiveled their heads between his side and hers, trying to decide which to try.

Nick knew it was the fun, friendly vibe that was drawing people to his tent…but what was it that was drawing them to Sam's? Was she charming her customers, too? He could certainly see how that was possible, but it seemed like her crowd had more women. Sure, that's it. Women flock to women. It was just a fluke that she had a big crowd since more women were at the fair this time of day.

Satisfied that his crowd would soon be larger than Sam's, Nick went back to bantering with the customers. He was discussing the right bait for trout fishing Montana streams when his nose twitched. What was that smell?

Something was burning…his ground beef!

Twisting around to look at the stove, he saw smoke rising from the cast-iron pan. He rushed over, flicking the gas burner off and whipping his hat from his head to fan the smoke away. The last thing he needed was smoke billowing out into the aisle driving customers away from his chili.

Dang!
That would set him back some. Panic raced through him. Hopefully, he would be able to get the next batch of chili out in time before the current batch was all gone.

He tossed the hard black clumps of ground beef into the trash and threw the pan into the sink. Thankfully, he had another large cast-iron pan, and he dropped that onto the stove, then put some hamburger in to cook. When he turned back, he noticed that Sam's crowd had grown even larger.

Now, no one was in front of his booth—they were all at Sam's. He narrowed his eyes, squinting to see what was going on over there.

The crowd parted slightly, and his heart jolted when he saw Sam, a big smile on her face. Her sleek black hair was pulled up onto the top of her head in a high ponytail that cascaded halfway down her back.

If he ran his fingers through that hair, would it feel like silk? Suddenly he was afraid that he'd never get the chance to find out.

Several couples stood leisurely chatting in front of her booth, the men happily eating steaming bowls of chili. The women holding…what was that?

He craned his neck to see what the women were holding. They looked like little yellow cornbread muffins…no not muffins—cupcakes! And not just regular cupcakes. She'd fancied them up with frosting and decorated them in all kinds of cute shapes—cows, horses, bunnies, dogs, cats. The women were going crazy over them.

Nick jerked his attention back to his own tent. To his plain squares of cornbread. Manly cornbread. He'd never thought about appealing to women. Heck, at The Chuckwagon everything was geared toward appealing to men as it had been for the past hundred years.

But over at Sam's tent, the cupcakes had drawn the women's attention, and the women had pulled their men over with them.

It was a dirty trick!

He couldn't believe Sam would stoop so low. Sure, cornbread went with chili like salt went with tequila, but making the cornbread into cute little cupcakes was going too far. She was attracting people to her tent under false pretenses, using something other than the chili itself.

Nick's blood pressure rose. She was nothing but a smooth operator. A city slicker who would stop at nothing to win. Well, if that was the case, then two could play at that game.

Nick flicked the gas off under the cast-iron pan, covered the top, and stormed off toward the beer tent.

* * *

S
am had been
up all night cooking the cornbread cupcakes. She was a much better baker than a chef, but her parents thought baking wasn't a real career. They thought it was frivolous. Only an accomplished chef that could open a five-star restaurant was career material in their book.

Pride swelled in her chest as she handed a pink-frosted cupcake decorated with the ears, nose, and eyes of a pig to the middle-aged woman on the other side of the table. Her designs had come out pretty good even if she did say so herself, and she'd gotten lots of compliments. It seemed the women appreciated having something different and sweeter to offset the heat of the chili.

It had been fun to create the various designs, and she knew that would attract a crowd. She was sure she would get more votes than Nick. The other contestants were so far behind she didn't even consider them as competition, though she was happy to see that Beulah had risen to second to last. She'd taken a liking to the old lady despite her gruff exterior.

But come mid-afternoon, Sam's excitement was dampened. Her booth had attracted a big crowd because of the cupcakes all morning. She'd been crazy busy and sold a lot of bowls of chili. But now the traffic seemed to have died down.

A niggle of unease sprouted in her gut. Why had the people stopped coming? Was something wrong with her cupcakes and word had gotten out they were no good? She'd expected the crowd to grow even larger once people started talking about them, but now it seemed that even as her crowd was dwindling, Nick's was getting larger.

What was going on over there?

The crowd was mostly men, and they appeared excited. Pushy. Almost as if they were jostling for position. She stood on her tiptoes trying to see over their heads, and then she crouched down angling her head to try to see through the crowd, wondering just what Nick had done to attract so many people.

A large cowboy in a gigantic white ten-gallon hat moved to the side and that's when she saw it. Nick had what looked like an old gold-fish bowl on the table with blue ticket stubs inside. Raffle tickets? Was he raffling something off?

Wait, there was something leaning against the front of the fish-bowl. Another person moved and now Sam could see what it was. A handwritten sign in dark black pen—Buy A Bowl Of Chili And Win A Chance For Free Beer Tent Passes.

Sam clenched her fists so hard that her nails bit into her palms. Anger coursed through her veins. Nick was running a lottery and bribing people to buy his chili!

That couldn't be within the rules, could it?

Now everyone was going over to his tent and buying his chili instead of hers. That wasn't fair!

She wasn't a tattle-tale, but she was sure that running a raffle was against the rules. She wouldn't tell on him, but she hoped someone would. Maybe he would get disqualified. It would serve him right.

Here she was thinking people in Montana were a different breed. That cowboys had some code of honor. Turns out they were no different than your average riff-raff back east.

She couldn't wait to get this contest over with and return to Boston.

S
am was still pissed
when she got home that night, but she didn’t let on to Tessa about Nick’s raffle and simply played up the fact that the customers loved the cupcakes.

Tessa seemed genuinely thrilled for her and happy that her investment in betting on Sam with her friends might pay off. Since Sam knew Tessa and Nick were close, she didn’t want to ruin the good mood of her success by talking badly about him. Even though she was
thinking
badly about him.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly sure that making the cornbread cupcakes were within the rules, either. Surely, cupcakes weren’t nearly as bad as an actual bribe? Best to keep quiet about it, but if Nick was going to use the same bribe tomorrow then she was going to march right over there and have a word with him. She’d just make sure she didn’t have any cornbread cupcakes in her booth in case the judges decided to check things out.

Tessa had the night off, and the fridge was empty. Neither one of them wanted to go grocery shopping, and they were both starving. Sam had had her fill of chili earlier in the week and hadn’t eaten much of anything all day. Since they’d overdosed on cupcakes the night before, they were both craving a real meal.

“I know a great place where we can go and grab a really good burger,” Tessa said.

Burgers had been their go-to meal in college when their budgets didn’t dictate that they ate ramen noodles. And when things were going badly for one of them, somehow a greasy burger oozing with cheese and dripping ketchup always made things better.

Sam could use that right about now.

“The Bull Sheep?” Sam asked.

“No, someplace better. A real restaurant.” Tessa grabbed her purse. “I want to show you a real Montana burger made the way they’re supposed to be made. Thick and juicy.”

Sam showered and changed into a brown tee-shirt with a white and black design on it and her favorite faded jeans. Her sophisticated Boston wardrobe had no place here in Sweetrock.

Funny thing was, she was starting to really like the more casual attire. It was more comfortable. And she was developing quite a crush on cowboy boots. Tessa’s closet was full of them, in all colors and styles. Sam liked the way they felt on her feet—comfortable but sturdy. She liked the hollow thudding sound they made. Much more substantial than the clack-clack-clack of high heels. Not to mention that her slim leg jeans fit perfectly into the tops and the boots riding halfway up her calf gave her outfit a little pop at the bottom. Tonight she was wearing a brown pair with a black and white stitched design on the top that almost matched her tee-shirt. She was definitely going to have to look into getting some cowboy boots when she got back to Boston.

“Maybe tomorrow night we can saddle up a couple of the horses in the barn and go on a ride,” Tessa said as they drove away. She’d been after Sam to try out one of the horses at the trail riding place where she worked, but Sam had been too busy with the contest. She had only been on a horse a couple of times and not since college. Sam had to admit the prospect was a bit daunting.

“Maybe.”

Tessa prattled on about horses as they drove down the winding country roads. It was clear to Sam that Tessa loved horses, and Sam’s heart gave a little tug at the thought of having an animal to take care of. Something soft and furry that was always happy to see you when you got home. And didn’t argue with you. Or cheat at contests.

Of course, she couldn’t have a horse in Boston, but maybe a cat. Because they’d moved around so much when she was little, she’d never been able to have a pet, and she’d really wanted one as a kid. Of course, that would have to wait until she had an actual place to live.

The road opened up ahead to reveal wide fields and far-away mountains. The sun was just setting behind them, and it splashed the mountains ahead in purple and pink while the field glowed golden-yellow. It was breathtaking.

“Look!” Tessa pointed to the right, and Sam looked in wonder at the two deer in the field. One had its head down, grazing, and the other was looking straight at them, her ears alert like radar dishes. As they watched, a hawk swooped down, picked up a small rodent and flew off with the poor creature in its talons. Sam was mesmerized—you never saw stuff like that in Boston. No wonder Tessa loved it here so much.

“Think you’re starting to appreciate the country out here, aren’t you?” Tessa teased.

“Well, it is pretty. So wide open. But there’s
nothing
out here,” Sam said.

“That’s why people like it.” Tessa pulled up in front of a big old barn. It looked to be a hundred years old with a wide porch added to one side and hitching posts on the railings.

“This is the restaurant?” Sam asked. Even though it was old, it seemed to be in good condition. A big sign hung over a double glass door. The door was obviously a more modern addition—the sign she wasn’t sure about. It was made from a huge old board with the name of the restaurant branded into it like the brand on a cow—The Chuckwagon.

Tessa laughed. “Oldest restaurant in Sweetrock. And the best.”

The swirl of dirt kicked up by Tessa’s jeep was just settling as they stepped out. The restaurant backed up to a wooded area. To the left was a large expanse of land that looked like it ran straight to the mountains. A brook meandered along the edge of the dirt parking lot, which had obviously been shaped to accommodate the path of the brook. It was hot as Hades, but the babbling sound of the brook had a cooling effect. They walked across the lot, listening to the buzz of insects and the croak of frogs. A coyote howled somewhere off in the distance just as Tessa pulled open the glass and gestured for Sam to precede her. “After you.”

Cool air washed over Sam as she stepped into the large barn. The boards on the inside were just as rough as the outside, but you could hardly see them as they were covered with a hundred years of memorabilia.

Tooled leather saddles, lassos, bridles, stirrups with etched designs, old farm equipment and tons of pictures of rodeos and cowboys dating from present times to a hundred years ago.

The lighting was dim—not so dark that you couldn’t see your meal, but not glaring. Just enough to give it a subtle, relaxed ambiance. It was obvious the place had been a barn at one time since some of the original stalls were still intact and now had been turned into cushioned booths that made for cozy private seating.

The center of the restaurant was dotted with white linen-covered tables and sturdy wooden chairs with leather cushioned seats held on by antique brass rivets. Tessa stopped at the podium beyond which a brown bun of hair could be seen poking up. Sam peeked over and recognized the woman—Beulah—from the chili contest.

“Greetings.” Beulah popped out from behind the stand with two menus in her hand and exchanged a look with Tessa.

“Table for two?” Beulah started into the restaurant without waiting for their answer. She was wearing black slacks and a black shirt with a white leather fringed vest. The fringe hung down to her knees and swayed back and forth like the rubber strips at a car wash. It might have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason, it worked on the feisty old lady.

She led them to a table near the back, and they sat down. Sam’s stomach rumbled as she dived into her menu. It was covered in plastic and scattered with pictures. Lots of beef and steak. There were several choices for burgers, but Sam was surprised to find that there were no seafood items or salads. Not even a dessert menu. It was light years away from the menu at the trendy city restaurant where she had worked.

“The menu is really basic. Mostly meat and potatoes. Is that what you guys like to eat out here?” Sam knew that food preferences differed per geographical area, but this menu seemed rather unusual.

Tessa shook her head. “The Chuckwagon has been an icon in town for close to a hundred years. This is pretty close to the menu they started out with.”

Sam opened her mouth to start on a diatribe about modern eating habits and how important a balanced menu was, but Tessa raised a hand to cut her off.

“I know. Times have changed, and it’s not just cowboys and rodeo hands coming in to eat here now. They need to appeal to a more diverse clientele, or this place is going to go under. But try to get
them
to see that.” Tessa gestured out to the restaurant. “You can see the restaurant is pretty much empty.”

It was pretty empty. Even in this small town, a nice place with this kind of ambiance should have had more than the five customers it had now.
If
the food was any good. Maybe it sucked, but Sam didn’t think so. Tessa wouldn’t have recommended it if it did. Sam doubted the place would be in business long.

“That’s too bad.” Sam’s eyes dropped back down to her menu. She felt bad for the owners, but it wasn’t her problem.

“Hey, Rena!” Tessa’s eyes focused on someone beyond Sam’s shoulder, and she turned to see who it was. Perky. Curly blonde hair. Big blue eyes.

Nick’s girlfriend!

She spun back around to Tessa, but Tessa was already waving the girl over. Sam opened her mouth then shut it just as quick. What was she going to say? That she didn’t want to talk to Nick’s girlfriend? And why not? It wasn’t like
she
wanted to date him or anything.

“Rena, this is my friend Sam that I told you about.”

Tessa had told Nick’s girlfriend about her? Sam shook Rena’s hand, trying to be as pleasant and polite as possible.

“Nice to meet ‘ya,” Rena said. She seemed genuinely glad to meet Sam, poor thing. Sam felt sorry that she was saddled with a flirting, cheating liar like Nick. She could see why the woman would be attracted to him, though. He was handsome and obviously kept his body in good shape. Thoughts of Nick’s body made her squirm in her chair. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want anything to do with him. Poor Rena could keep him. But if the girl hadn’t already figured out what Nick Bradford was all about, then Sam wasn’t about to be the one to enlighten her.

“You wanna join us?” Tessa asked Rena and Sam prayed she’d say no.

“Can’t. I’m just waiting for Amy then I gotta get her home and ready for bed.”

“Mommy! Uncle Nick bought me a horsey!”

Uncle Nick? So maybe she wasn’t his kid. She never understood why women had their kids call their boyfriends ‘uncle’.

Amy came running over with a purple toy horse extended in her hand.

Rena’s face beamed as she looked at the girl. “It’s beautiful!”

Amy brought it around to each of them so they could all make a big deal about how beautiful the horse was.

Amy’s blue eyes turned serious. “This one’s okay, but I want a real pony.”

Rena’s face turned sad. She ruffled the girl’s blonde curls. “Maybe someday.”

“But I used to ride Nacho. Why can’t I ride him anymore?”

“Because Uncle Nick doesn’t have him anymore.”

A pang of sadness for the little girl pierced Sam’s heart.
What had happened to Nacho?

Tessa bent down to Amy’s level. “I’ll tell you what. Maybe I can bring you to the barn, and you can pet Nacho. Maybe even ride him.”

Amy turned gleeful. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Tessa looked up at Sam and explained. “Nacho is on loan to us until his owner can afford to board him somewhere.”

Sam frowned. Hadn’t she said Nacho was Nick’s horse? Why couldn’t he afford to board him? As if her thoughts had summoned him, Nick’s voice rang out from behind her.

“Amy where did you…oh. Hi, Tessa. Sam. Sis.”

Sis?

Sam spun around. Her eyes flicked from Nick to Rena to Amy. No wonder Amy looked like Nick. She was his niece. Rena was his sister, not his girlfriend. Why did she feel ridiculously happy about that?

Her cheeks burned. She was glad she’d never mentioned anything to Tessa about what a slime ball Nick was to be flirting with her when he had a girlfriend. Her estimation of Nick ticked up slightly. But only slightly. He’d still pulled a fast one with the raffle tickets.

She nodded a greeting at him and then turned her back, her heart tweaking when she noticed the cold look he’d given her. Apparently, he was just as annoyed at seeing her as she was at seeing him.

“Well, I have to get into the kitchen.” Nick rushed off toward the front of the restaurant.

“Kitchen? Does he work here?” Sam was confused. She thought Nick owned a restaurant. What was he doing working here? Unless…

“This is our family restaurant. Started by our great-granddaddy and run by our parents…before they died.” Rena’s eyes misted. “Nick’s doing everything he can to keep it afloat, but honestly, I just don’t know.” She looked down at Amy and fluffed her hair, then plastered a smile on her face. “Well, you didn’t come here to hear my tale of woe. You ready to go home, pumpkin?”

“Yes, Mommy.” Amy grabbed her horse from the top of the table and started away, and then she stopped and turned to Tessa. “Now don’t forget. You’re gonna take me to see Nacho.”

“I won’t.” Tessa watched them leave with a wistful smile on her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have promised that.”

The waitress appeared and they ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and beer then got into a discussion about old times. Sam wanted to ask more about Nacho, but they started to reminisce about their college days and by the time the burgers and beers came they were giggling just like they used to back in college. It felt good. Sam hadn’t laughed with anyone like that in a long time.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Tessa. They could share any secret. She could tell Tessa any of her troubles and know she would understand. And they could depend on each other for anything. A pang of loneliness sprang up inside Sam as she realized that while she had friends in Boston, none of them were quite as close as she and Tessa.

Sam lapsed into thought as she ate her burger. She’d been under the assumption that Nick’s restaurant was doing good, but obviously, it wasn’t. Was that why he was in the chili contest? Maybe he needed that prize money as badly as she did. Her heart swayed a bit in his favor. She still didn’t approve of him using the raffle ticket bribe, but she could see how he would be tempted, especially after her cornbread muffins had stolen the show. She knew how it felt to be desperate and needing that money to dig out of a hole. Maybe she had been too harsh in judging him.