Chapter Three

Lucy

For a Texas summer, the mornings were still cool, and I pulled my light jacket tight against me as I waited for my knock to be answered.

When my new boss pulled the door open he was wearing nothing but a pair of faded old Levis, and tube socks. All of I sudden I had the distinct impression that I might have been safer at the diner. The strong silent type would be a nice change from the cat-callers at the diner, but unlike them, my new boss was hot as hell. Blaze was an appropriate name, because just looking at him set parts of me on fire. Parts that had long since been put to rest. Dating and sex hadn’t even been on my radar since I left New York, but at that moment, it was all I could think about.

“Lucy, right?” His odd accent broke through my reverie, and I forced myself to pull my gaze away from his finely chiseled abs. His smile was equally as dangerous.

When he turned that smile on me, and stared with those sparkling turquoise eyes, all I could do was nod dumbly. He didn’t seem to mind.

“C’mon in, I’ll show you around, and give you a quick tour of the house.”

It was a definite bachelor pad, a house full of cowboys that had never seen the softness of a woman’s touch. The house, not the men.

I followed him around, forcing myself to focus on my surroundings and the words he was speaking, rather than his gorgeous bare chest.

“Do you…” I paused, not wanting to offend. “If there’s time, would you mind if I picked up a bit, and did a little bit of spring cleaning from time to time? I’m sure you’re usually too busy with the real work to be bothered with things like dusting.”

“Well, it’s not the job Rusty hired you for Miss, but if you’re ever so inclined, I must admit, I wouldn’t mind. I try to keep up with the basic chores, but even that can be a struggle during the busy season.”

“I don’t mind,” I said, even though I had about as much experience cleaning as I did cooking. Which was basically none. “And please, call me Lucy.”

“Lucy it is.” He nodded. “Well, Lucy, I have to get out in the fields, but before I do, please make yourself at home in the kitchen. I regret though, that we didn’t make it to the market over the weekend. We meant to, but then some cows got loose, and the wind blew a fence down, and well, that’s ranch life. The men I reckon, will have to suffer through one more day.” He smiled as he withdrew his wallet and pushed his credit card into my hand. “Please use this to get whatever supplies you need. Food or dishes, or pots and pans, or whatever. You might want to inventory the kitchen, and make a list. We don’t have much. Please get anything you think you will need to get the job done.”

I stared after him as he walked out the door, still shirtless, clutching a western shirt and a pair of boots in his hand. Apparently there was no time to waste.

No breakfast or lunch was expected today, apparently, a small favor that freed up a little more time, but dinner needed to be taken care of. And I needed to make a good first impression and keep this job.

A quick inspection of the cupboards and fridge found them bare. A loaf of bread, some milk that looked to be hovering on the edge of its due date, and several cans of soup and beans. No fresh produce to be found. The fridge was a barren wasteland, but at least they were well stocked on beef, I thought, pulling open the extra-large freezer, and taking note of all the butcher wrapped, sharpie labeled packages. That was one advantage of owning a cattle ranch, it seemed.

So, I had beef. Lots and lots of beef. And not a fucking clue what to do with it. Fake it till you make it. Mike had said that to me yesterday, and I had adopted it as my new motto.

After a little digging, I located a notebook and pen, so I sat down at a rickety kitchen table and set out to make a list.

List of what, exactly?

My eyes welled with tears as I stared at the blank paper feeling like I was in way over my head. For some reason, I had been under the mistaken impression that this job would be more like cooking in a restaurant than it apparently was. Maybe I was naive, but I had honestly expected something like, “Here’s the recipe book. Make this, for this many people, have it ready by this time, et cetera and repeat.” What I had gotten was, “Here’s the kitchen and my credit card. See you at dinner.”

I had grown up with cooks. I never thought I would be one. And as far as I could tell, my new boss was no chef, which thankfully meant his expectations would be relatively low.

Eyeing the paper wearily, I wrote ‘cookbook’ on the list. That was a good place to start. Then produce. Bread, milk, juice, coffee, eggs, cheese, and potatoes all followed. It was only a dozen things, but having a plan made me feel better already. Being it was my first day on the job, I wanted to wow them, not give off the distinct impression that my motto was fake it till you make it, even though that was of course, the absolute truth. At this point I’d settle for not getting fired in the first week.

My eyes darted between the list, the clock, and the empty kitchen, and my chest squeezed with panic. I needed this job. It was a good job, and how hard could it be, right? I just needed a plan. Racking my brain, I went with the only one I could come up with in the moment.

Pulling the track phone out of my purse, I scrolled down to the B section, and hit the button to dial. When the familiar warm maternal voice came on the line, I burst into tears. “Betty, I need help!”

 

*****

Lucy

Even though my work day was supposed to be over at four, I was still there when Blaze, Rusty and the cowboys clamored into the dining room at half past five. Fully stocking a kitchen, and trying to make heads or tails of which kind of cookbook I needed to feed a bunch of hungry ranchers had set me behind.

There was about seven or eight of them but the way they hollered and stomped around as they entered, it may as well have been a hundred.

“So, what’s this surprise you have for us, Boss?” I heard one of them say just as they turned the corner into the large dining area.

The expressions on their faces as they saw the spread arranged on Blaze’s rickety old wooden table was worth the morning’s angst, and the extra hours it had taken to make a meal. They didn’t need to know that Betty had only left an hour ago. She promised it would be our little secret.

I couldn’t help but smile with pride as I watched their eyes widen with shock. I had made a large pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits, and a green salad with bacon dressing. Everything sat on a perfectly set table with new dishes. Matching but not fancy. They were cowboys after all. There was an apple pie for desert too, but they didn’t know that. They also didn’t know the biscuits were the refrigerated kind, as was the pie crust. The filling had come from a can. Betty said they wouldn’t know the difference, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

The youngest looking of the bunch was the first to step forward. “Uh, Blaze? Did we all just die out on the trail? Because not only does it smell heavenly in here, but there’s an angel standing in your kitchen.”

I giggled, and he stepped forward, removing his large Stetson and placing it over his heart. “Miss, my names’ Jordan. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Apparently, cowboys had manners. That was something new. My experiences at the diner had often made me think otherwise. I glanced at Blaze when Jordan took my hand, and for a hot minute I swore he looked angry. The look faded just as fast and I forced myself not to dwell on it.

“Nice to meet you, Jordan. My name’s Lucy. Blaze has hired me as the cook around here, so I guess we’ll all be seeing each other around.”

His eyes twinkled at the news that tonight’s feast wouldn’t be a one-time thing, and I wondered how long they had been surviving off spam and beans.

“You hear that, boys? Lucy here’s gonna cook every day. We’re gonna be the most well-fed cowboys around these parts, and it’s about damn time.”

Grunts of agreement filled the room and they all clamored to take a seat around the large table. I raised my eyebrows. “The kitchen’s through here boys. I’m assuming you all have been taught enough manners to know you need to wash up before you eat.”

It was cute watching cowboys blush as they fought to be the first into the kitchen. I had to move out of the way so I wasn’t caught in the near stampede to the sink. Only Blaze lingered behind.

He mozied up to me, with a quirky grin, and the way it showed his dimple when he smiled had me grabbing onto the buffet behind me to keep my balance. When he came right up to me, and closed the space between us until we were standing only a few inches apart, I had to force myself not to swoon. He was covered in dust, and carried a smell that was faintly reminiscent of trees, peppermint and eau de cattle, but damn if he wasn’t sexy as hell.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. So, I was attracted to my boss. This was a new and surprising complication. I had never had to worry about it before. All my bosses had been older. Back home they were usually friends of my father, people I had known since I was in diapers and pigtails. And Jerry at the diner, of course. He was just nasty.

Were people in the witness protection program even allowed to date? I dismissed the question with a laugh. Of course they were. I was sure of it. I was just as sure that it didn't matter. He was my boss, and I didn't need to be thinking that way. I might actually like this job.

"Lucy?"

I ripped my attention from my own lecherous thoughts and back to reality as I realized Blaze was staring at me, with a confused and worried expression. Uh-oh. Had he been saying my name long? The cowboys were starting to straggle in from the kitchen.

"I...um...yes?" I made myself meet his gaze head on and forced a smile. "Sorry, long day."

"It looks and smells delicious. Find everything you need?"

"I had to do a lot of shopping to get the kitchen stocked and workable. Sorry I stayed late. Just making up lost time. You don't have to pay me for the extra hour."

His brow crinkled and his jaw hardened. "Of course I'll pay you for the hours you work. Don't undervalue yourself."

There wasn't much I could say to that, and his expression didn’t bode an argument, so I only nodded.

"In fact, coming in to a hot meal on the table seems to be good for morale. So if you want to extend your work hours every once in a while, I'll pay a hefty bonus for you to keep doing what you did tonight."

"Really? You haven't even tasted it yet! It could be awful!"

"Darlin, nothing that smells this good could possibly taste bad. And anything is a step up from what we've been eating."

I giggled. "That's what I hear. Not much time for cooking lessons in between milking cows and baling hay?" I teased naming the two ranchiest things I could think of. To be honest, I had zero idea what they did all day on a cattle ranch.

"Not much, no." He leaned in close and his warm breath tickled my face. "Remind me to thank Rusty for insisting we hire a cook, and a beautiful one at that. Forgive me, Miss Lucy, for being so forward, but I feel like this is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship."

My eyes bugged, and my heart raced in my chest. Relationship? Work relationship. Boss and employee relationship. Cook and hungry cowboy. Surely, that was what he meant.

Behind us, Rusty cleared his throat. "Boss, we're getting a little hungry over here. We'd like to say grace so we can start eating this wonderful feast."

"A wonderful feast indeed," Blaze muttered, winking at me before he turned, leaving no room for doubt as to the clearly implied double entendre in his words.

He sat down at the head of the table and bowed his head while Rusty said a short prayer. I used the time to attempt to regain my composure.

As soon as they were done praying, they noisily passed dishes from person to person, digging in the minute their plates were full. I stood there dumbly watching.

I didn't hear any gagging or see any grossed out expressions, much to my relief, so I figured I had done okay. One meal down, hundreds to go. It would get easier, right?

 

My eyes darted around the table, watching, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Blaze caught my attention, dismissing me for the evening.

"Very well done, Miss Lucy. Our regards to the chef." Then men all nodded agreement, too busy shoveling food in their mouths to speak. "See you bright and early tomorrow?"

I nodded. Betty was coming over tomorrow too, to show me how to cook oatmeal or biscuits and gravy in the oversized crockpot she had insisted I buy. But they didn't need to know that.

I could feel Blaze watching me as I grabbed my purse off the coat rack and made my exit. A shiver went down my spine as I walked onto the large porch.

Learning to cook and a hot new boss. This whole making changes thing wasn't the worst. Not at all.

 

*****

Blaze

Damn. This whole hiring a cook thing was going to get me in trouble. I could feel it. But it was like watching a car accident about to happen. You couldn't do a damn thing to stop it, and you couldn't peel your eyes away. Just like I couldn't peel my eyes away from Lucy's tight little butt as she walked out the door.

As soon as it closed behind her, I felt the loss. I tried to remind myself that it was a short twelve hours until I would see her again, but for someone who hadn’t been interested in a woman in years, it was like a man dying of thirst walking into an oasis. Twelve hours seemed like a lifetime. And then I remembered. My card! She still had it.

I wasted no time jumping up from the table and running out the door.

I caught her just as she reached her car. "Lucy!" I panted, feeling sheepish now that I was out here. If I made a big deal about my card, she would think I didn't trust her. That didn't seem like an auspicious start to a relationship of any sort.

"Blaze?" Her eyes lingered on me as she fumbled with her car keys. "Everything okay?" Her face crumpled as I watched in confusion.

"Oh no! Was it awful? I'm sorry! I've never cooked for that many people before! I'll do better tomorrow! Please give me another chance!"

"What? No! The food was excellent. Five star fare. As far as I'm concerned, your job is secure."

Her expression was one of overwhelming relief before confusion clouded her soft features.

"Then what did you come running out here to tell me?"

Oh that. I had forgotten about that. "You have my card. I might need to order supplies tonight."

Lame, and false but it was the best excuse I could come up with on the fly. I was being silly. It was my card. I shouldn’t even feel like I needed an excuse to ask for it back.

Damnit Blaze. A few years out of the game and you have gone back to Jr high mentality. Get it together man. You see pretty women every day, and this one happens to work for you.

She smiled, not seeing through my flimsy excuse to see her for a few minutes longer and withdrew the card from her handbag. “Sorry about that. I got a little flustered with all the commotion."

She wasn't the only one. She handed me my card and a receipt that was a mile long. I didn't want to take it, even though I had asked for it. I just wanted to draw out contact with her.

There was something about her, and I wasn't even sure what it was. She was pretty but not gorgeous, had a nice body, but those were a dime a dozen around these parts, and she wavered somewhere between confident and completely insecure from moment to moment. An enigma. She exuded an air of mystery, and suddenly I wanted to be a detective.

As I stood there dumbly, lamenting the fact that I had apparently forgotten how to talk to women over the last few years, she bit her lip and hopped from one foot to the other.

"Well," she said shyly, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Blaze." Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Just Blaze, Miss Lucy. Just Blaze is fine."

“Then you have to drop the Miss Lucy bit. If we’re on a first name basis, it’s gotta go both ways.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. And then, because I had seen the other cowboys do it a time or two, I took her hand in mine, raised it to my lips, and pressed a light kiss to the top of her knuckles. “I’ll see you in the morning, Lucy.”