Some Like It Hot (Sweetrock Cowboy Romance Book 1) (9 page)

He looked down at her and smiled.

“That was—“

“Amazing.” He completed her sentence using the exact same word she was going to use, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Sam stretched against him. “Can we do it again?”

Nick chuckled, his deep laugh vibrating through her, causing a flurry of emotion. “I sure hope so. Might have to rest for a few minutes, though.”

She laughed and flipped over on her back. Still snuggled up beside him, she looked up at the sky. The sun was long gone now, and the sky was an inky midnight blue, dotted with millions of twinkling lights. Stars. More than she’d ever seen before.

“Look at all the stars.” The words slipped out of her lips.

“Aren’t they great?” Nick nuzzled her neck, but she kept her eyes on the sky. She’d looked up at the stars in Boston, of course, but most of them were obliterated by the bright lights of the city. Here in Sweetrock, there were no bright lights. The sky was gigantic, wide open, and magical.

“I’ve never seen so many.”

Nick shifted slightly, raising his hand to point at the sky. “That one over there is the Big Dipper. See the three stars make a handle, and then four of them make the ladle?”

Sam tilted her head following his finger. How did he pick out one dipper from all the stars? But then she saw it.

“I see it!”

Nick laughed and moved his finger. “And that’s Canis Major, it looks kind of like a stick figure. And the Little Dipper is over there.”

Nick continued, trailing his finger across the sky and pointing out the shapes of various constellations. Sam was enthralled. She drank it in, listening to the sounds of crickets, the faraway hoot of an owl, the snicker of the horses, feeling the kiss of the sweet summer night air, the rough wool blanket underneath her and Nick’s warm muscular body beside her.

Her senses were heightened—everything felt like
more
. It was as if there were no one else in the world but her and Nick. As if nature was putting on this display just for them.

They lay on the blanket, talking and laughing like old friends. Had they just met not even a week ago? Having moved around to so many different places, Sam was usually cautious, stand-offish about new people but tonight she opened up, feeling as if she’d known Nick her whole life.

And for once, that feeling of not having a stable place, of not belonging, of never having somewhere to put down roots was gone. For once she felt like she was home.

T
he next day
, Sam floated into the fairgrounds. Her eyes searched the aisle—not for the scoreboard as they should have, but for Nick. He’d offered to pick her up in the morning and give her a ride but even though Sam’s heart tugged at her to spend as much time with him as possible, her head thought better of it.

She wasn’t some crazy teenager that was going to cling on to her new boyfriend. She knew that she needed some breathing space to put what was happening between her and Nick into perspective.

She’d arrived home very late the night before to a knowing smirk on Tessa’s face. She could tell that Tessa was dying to ask what had happened, but she didn’t push things. Even this morning when she’d driven Sam in, she’d managed to restrain herself from pumping Sam for information. Sam knew eventually she’d have to spill her guts. Just like in college, Tessa would want to know every little detail.

She glanced at the scoreboard, the fact that she and Nick were still tied barely registering. He’d been winning yesterday. She must’ve done something right to catch up. But then her eyes fell on Nick, his eyes seeking out hers as she walked toward her booth, uncertain at first and then upon seeing her wide smile he matched it with his own.

He met her at the entrance of her booth, kissing her lightly on the lips, then as if on second thought pulling her closer and kissing her harder this time despite the fact that there was light morning traffic, and they were starting to draw stares. And not only just the customers, either. Sam noticed Beulah leaning out of her booth and giving her the thumbs up. By the time Nick pulled away, Sam’s cheeks were on fire.

“Good luck cooking.” Nick winked and went over to his booth.

Sam felt energized even though she’d lain awake most of the night replaying their lovemaking over and over in her head until she finally had to get up and take a cold shower. She didn’t have the same drive for the chili contest as she had even just the day before. She wanted to put her best effort forward but now winning the money and starting her own restaurant didn’t seem very important.

Her heart wasn’t in it, but the practical side of her sent out a wake-up call. She’d only known Nick for a week and for all she knew their date last night was a one-time thing for him. It was crazy for her to read too much into it, and she had an entire future banking on this chili contest.

An entire future that suddenly seemed hollow and empty.

She got to work chopping, frying, and simmering. Ladling out the chili. Sneaking peeks into Nick’s tent.

When the mid-afternoon lull came, she sauntered over to his tent. “Hey, how’s it going?”

She hitched her butt onto his table, and he stood in front of her his palms resting on the table on either side of her thighs. Their faces were just inches apart. “Hard to keep my mind on cooking chili.”

She blushed and looked down. “I know. Me, too.”

“How about dinner tonight?” he asked.

Her heart did a flip. She opened her mouth to say yes then remembered her earlier promise to Rena. “Shoot. I’d love to, but I promised your sister I would come and look over the books at The Chuckwagon.

A shallow crease formed in between Nick’s brows. “The Chuckwagon? My restaurant?”

Dread settled in Sam’s chest. Nick’s reaction had not been favorable the other night when Beulah had suggested that he hire Sam. Maybe Nick didn’t want her getting involved in his restaurant business. She could hardly blame him, but she’d promised Rena. “She wanted me to take a look to see if there was anything you guys could do to help the bottom line. She’s worried about the restaurant.”

His jaw twitched. He straightened and stepped back, brushing his hand through his hair. Sam felt the loss of his nearness as if a warm, comfortable blanket had been ripped from her.

His face softened. “I know. I’m worried, too, but that’s not your problem. You don’t need to worry about it.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “But I want to help if I can.” She gestured to her booth. “I am really organized, plus I did some of the accounting and management for the restaurant I worked at in Boston. I found a lot of ways to cut costs. Maybe I can help cut costs at The Chuckwagon.”

He stared at her for a few nervous heartbeats, emotions flickering across his face then that handsome smile bloomed, and a spark of hope lit his eyes. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone and have dinner there. What do you say?”

Sam whooshed out a breath. Relieved. Nick wasn’t mad, and furthermore, she was going to get to spend more time with him. Plus, judging by the look in his eyes, dinner held the promise of much more later.

She hopped off the table and headed back to her booth. “I say yes.”

* * *

N
ick watched
Sam walk back to her booth. He didn’t want her to know his restaurant was in trouble. Or what a failure he was. How his disorganized mess had screwed things up. How he had no money and no prospects for the future. He was afraid if she knew how bad off he was, she’d run back to Boston even sooner.

But when she’d mentioned helping out at the restaurant, he could tell by the look on her face that she was sincere. And it had given him a little idea.

Beulah had been right. The restaurant really did need someone to help organize it and manage the running of the place. His parents had never really trained anyone, and he wasn’t doing such a good job. It was a great restaurant once. He knew it could be again. And Sam was looking for a great restaurant. What if…

Well, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. But if he could show her how much he loved the place and the great opportunities it presented, just maybe some of it would rub off on her. At the very least, he might get some tips on how to increase restaurant profitability, and he’d have the added bonus of being able to spend time with her tonight.

He wondered what Sam had lined up in Boston. Did she already have a building in mind? He knew she was looking to open one. Did she want to start from scratch or would she be happy running one like The Chuckwagon?

Nick wondered if a basic meat and potatoes place like The Chuckwagon could hold the interest of a Boston chef like Sam. Beulah had been right about revamping their menu, too. They needed to add dishes that were more contemporary. The prospect of that might hold Sam’s interest.

He looked down at his cutting board and double checked the ingredients he had laid out for the next batch of chili. He’d hardly paid attention to what he was cooking, and even though he noticed that he and Sam were tied for first place, he’d had lost his zest for winning the contest. He still needed the money to save The Chuckwagon, but now thoughts of Sam crowded his head, leaving no room for anything else.

He looked across the aisle into her booth. Sam had her head down, focusing on chopping an onion. Her ponytail had slipped over one tanned shoulder, swinging as she chopped, her face vibrant with a beautiful mask of concentration. Nick pictured her in the kitchen of The Chuckwagon working for their restaurant with the same focus she was putting into her chili and the seed of hope that had sprouted in his chest the night before took root and dared to grow just a tiny bit.

I
t was going
to take a while for Sam to get her car back. She’d contacted the bank and explained how the whole thing was a misunderstanding, but the repossession wheels had been set in motion, and it was slow to be reversed.

So, Nick drove them to The Chuckwagon later that night, pointing out various places of interest on the way—the field that the deer often came to graze in at twilight and the place where the elk crossed the old dirt road he’d taken as a shortcut to the restaurant. All the while his fingers intertwined with hers, resting on the console in the middle of the truck as natural as if they’d been driving around like that for years.

When they got to the restaurant, he parked in the back. Opening the truck door for her, he rested his palm on the hood, pinning her against the car and kissing her until her knees turned to jelly.

“Are you sure you want to help out?” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ears.

She nodded. She was sure.

Beulah met them at the back door, a knowing look on her face that made Sam blush. “Rena’s inside setting some stuff up for you to look at, Sam.” Beulah turned to Nick. “Why don’t you show Sam around the restaurant.”

Nick showed her the bar, the back offices, and the bathrooms. It was all rustic and quaint…and, unfortunately, nearly empty. The bar was an addition to the restaurant. It was off to the left of the entry, the floor done in terra-cotta tile with a row of windows overlooking a view of the mountains. This time of night she would have expected it to be fairly crowded, but only one table was occupied. Two large men in jeans and cowboy shirts sat with a woman that Sam recognized as Melina, who she had met at The Bull Sheep Bar.

Melina glanced up and recognized them, but instead of appearing happy, a look that Sam thought was almost defiant crossed her face. Almost as if she was daring them to accuse her of doing something wrong. Sam glanced at Nick. His brow creased in a frown as he waved at Melina. She waved back, nodded at Sam then returned her attention to the pink fizzy drink in front of her.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asked.

“No. Not really.” Nick took her elbow and steered her out the door. “I want to show you the kitchen. It’s the original, but my folks made some nice upgrades about five years ago.”

Sam glanced back at Melina uncertainly. She knew there was something going on, but what? Melina had seemed a little on edge the other night at The Bull Sheep. Maybe the woman had issues. Whatever it was, it was really none of Sam’s business. If Nick wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

The kitchen was bigger than she’d expected. It still had some of the old original cabinets and countertops, but a large modern freezer had been installed along with a stainless steel fridge and prep areas. She noticed it wasn’t set up as efficiently as the kitchens she was used to. Moving a few things around would allow them to get meals plated faster. Get them to the tables sooner allowing for fewer complaints of having to wait too long or getting cold food.

An image popped into her mind—Nick cooking in front of the industrial size ten burner Vulcan gas stove while she prepped food over by one of the small sinks.

Wait. Where did that image come from?

In the dining room, he took her alongside the walls, pointing out various objects. Some of the old farm equipment was from his grandparents’ ranch. Horse bridles and stirrups were memories from various family members and family horses. He pointed to pictures of his grandparents in the very same kitchen he’d just showed her minus the new stove and freezer or any of the stainless steel, the pride evident in his voice and on his face. Then they came to another picture of the kitchen, this one only about twenty years old—a couple in their thirties holding up a plate loaded with steaks.

“And that’s my parents.” Nick’s voice cracked, and he coughed to cover it up then cleared his throat. “They cooked together in the kitchen, too, just like my grandparents did.”

Sam’s heart pinched for him. Tessa had told her that Nick’s parents had died within months of each other. She couldn’t imagine losing her parents in a short time span like that. “They haven’t been gone that long, have they?”

Nick shook his head. “Just two years.”

The pain on his face nearly broke her heart, and she reached up, gently touching his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes softened. He put his hand on hers then brought it to his lips and dropped a kiss on it. “Thanks.”

He kept hold of her hand, twining his fingers through hers, and pulled her along. “Now here’s one you’ve got to see. See this lady right here?” Nick pointed to an eight by ten black and white picture. Sam guessed it to be from the 1940s or 50s. In the picture, a beautiful cowgirl with a big smile and wide-brimmed hat sat astride a magnificent white horse. She wore a black and white cowboy shirt, complete with leather fringe on the chest. Her hands clad in white leather gloves with fringe on the sides held the reins loosely.

“That’s Beulah.”

Sam spun around to face him, surprised. “Beulah? Your hostess?”

Nick laughed. “Yep, she was a rodeo rider back in the day. Excellent horsewoman.”

Sam slid her eyes over to the old woman at the podium then back to the picture. It was hard to imagine, but she did see the resemblance. “Well, no kidding.”

“I guess she came from New York City and then settled here. Been here ever since.”

A loud crash came from the bar followed by a high-pitched female voice yelling, “I’m not shdrunk!”

“Damn it!” Nick started toward the bar with Sam following.

Melina stood at the bar, a pile of glass at her feet, ice cubes scattered on the floor. The bartender raised his brows at Nick and tilted his head toward Melina. Sam caught their unspoken communication. Melina had had too much to drink, and he was refusing to serve her.

One of the men that had been at Melina’s table swaggered up to the bar and leaned over it toward the bartender. “Come on now, man, give her a drink. I’ll take care of the little lady.”

By the way his eyes raked over Melinda’s voluptuous figure, Sam had an uneasy feeling about what he meant by ‘take care of’ her.

Nick stepped over to the guy. He was big, maybe a little taller than Nick and just as broad. Nick stood just close enough to make the man uncomfortable. “I think you can leave the lady alone now. We’ll take it from here.”

The man frowned at him. “Who are you? Her father?”

“Just a friend. We don’t want any trouble here, but if you insist…” Nick stepped closer and worry flashed across the man’s face. He glanced back at his friend still at the table.

The friend stood and threw a wad of bills on the table. “Come on, Trev, looks like more trouble than she’d be worth.” He gave Nick a hard look then strode slowly toward the door. Trev followed, kicking an ice cube and watching it slide across the floor on his way out as if to get the last word in.

When they were gone, Nick turned to Melina. “What is going on here? Who are those guys?”

Melina was belligerent. “What’s it to you? They’re my friends.”

Nick put a hand gently on her arm. “Look, Melina, you’ve had too much to drink. I’m going to call you a cab. You need to go home and sleep it off.”

“Home? To my empty ranch? Shure, s’easy for you to say. You have all thish.” She gestured around the bar, the exaggerated movement knocking her off balance.

Rena appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on here?” Her concerned baby-blue eyes flicked from Melina to the mess on the floor.

Melina followed her gaze, her face falling and all the belligerence deflating like a punctured balloon. “Oh, Rena. I’m sorry. I don’t know what comes over me.”

Rena rushed over, putting an arm around the other woman’s shoulders and comforting her. “It’s okay, Mel. I know you didn’t mean it.” She shot a look at the bartender over Melina’s shoulder. “We’ll call you a cab.”

The bartender, a broom in one hand and dustbin in the other, jerked his head toward the door where a cab was pulling up outside. “Already done.”

Nick came to stand behind Sam, his palm on the back of her neck as they watched Rena put Melina into the cab. When Rena came back inside, Nick said, “She’s getting worse. I’m not sure what we should do.”

Rena crossed her arms over her chest, her face full of compassion. ”She’s hurting, Nick. She doesn’t have any family here anymore. At least we have each other. Harley is over in Afghanistan, and she doesn’t know when—or
if
— he’s going to come back. It’s a rough time for her, and we have to just keep helping her until she gets through it.”

Rena turned to Sam, noticing the confused look on her face. “Melina and her brother Harley were orphaned when they were toddlers. They were raised by their grandparents, but Ida and Morrie passed away about three years ago. Harley is a Navy SEAL over in Afghanistan. He’s been there about four years now. Melina is all alone on the big family ranch, and she gets depressed sometimes.”

“Sometimes it seems like she’s a lot of trouble, but we’ve all been friends since we were kids,” Nick cut in. “We look out for each other. In Sweetrock, we take care of our own. I just hope our help is enough. She might need more. A professional.”

The thought of friends taking care of each other warmed Sam. She’d moved around so much that she’d never been able to have friends that had known each other since childhood. She wondered what it would be like to know someone since you were a little kid through your teenage years and then into adulthood. The bond it would form. A pang of envy at the closeness of Nick and his friend speared her heart. If she settled down somewhere long enough, would she have that same closeness someday?

“I have things all set for you in the office, Sam, if you’re ready,” Rena said.

Sam looked up at Nick uncertainly. “Okay, I think were done with the tour.”

“Yep. Do you like steak?”

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll have dinner ready when you guys are finished.”

Sam followed Rena to the office where she had journals laid out and a laptop flipped open on a big oak desk.

“My parents were old fashioned, and most of the accounting is on paper. I’m trying to transfer things to the computer, but the entries for this past year are a disorganized mess.” Rena’s sigh pushed her blonde curls away from her forehead. “The truth is I don’t know very much about the workings of the restaurant. I just finally talked Nick into letting me take some responsibility a few weeks ago.” She leaned in and whispered. “Though Beulah’s been showing me some things behind his back.”

“So Nick’s been running the place the whole time?” Sam asked. “I mean since your parents…”

Her face pinched. “Yeah. He always worked here and on our family ranch. Of course, that’s gone now, but Nick always loved cooking. Me—well, maybe I didn’t make the smartest choices…hooking up with Cyrus—that’s Amy’s father—well, let’s just say he wasn’t a nice guy. Nick tried to warn me. To protect me.” She shrugged. “But I’m older and wiser now. I learned my lesson and don’t need to be sheltered, anymore. I know Nick still tries to protect me, but I’m a big girl, and I need to take some responsibility for this restaurant. I don’t have any other work. Besides, I gotta look out for Amy. We really need your help.”

Sam’s heart pinched. She’d never really been needed like that before. It felt good but heavy with responsibility. She pulled one of the ledgers toward her. “Okay, show me everything. I’ll do what I can to help.”