by Marla Monroe
There wasn’t time for him to be second guessing their plans. He had hungry men to feed. Laramie couldn’t wait until that tempting morsel upstairs was rested and ready to take over the kitchen. He’d cooked enough these last few weeks to last him the rest of his life. Not only was it hot, hard work, but it was a pain in the ass to come up with something different that he could actually manage to pull off without completely ruining it. The wranglers were going to be overjoyed to find out their meals would soon be prepared by an actual chef.
Despite his determination to keep his mind focused on making dinner, it kept wandering to the woman upstairs. She was a delight to look at despite the dark circles beneath those clear blue eyes that reminded him of a spring sky, light and full of promise. She had a head full of dark auburn hair that reached just below her shoulders. It was thick enough and had enough natural curl to it to tempt a man to sink his hands in it. He could imagine tugging on it while he rode her sweet body to heaven. And damn, that body. It was all curves and softness that promised nothing but pleasure when snuggling with her on a cold winter’s day in front of the fire.
He could easily see himself propping his chin on her head and wrapping his arms around her as they watched the sun set on a warm summer’s night. She couldn’t be much over five feet four inches. She had the sort of body he and his brother loved, curvy with generous breasts and an ass that cried out for a firm grip. Would she taste as good as she smelled?
Laramie jerked out of his thoughts to the smell of slightly well-done bread. He cursed and nearly burned himself getting the rolls out of the oven.
“Damn fancy gadgets. The stupid timer didn’t even go…” The buzzing of the timer cut him off.
Yeah, well maybe I overestimated how long it would take to brown the damn rolls. I’m a soldier and a wrangler, not a fucking chef.
Which brought his thoughts back to the filly upstairs sleeping while he burned dinner. Disgusted, he added extra butter to the tops of the rolls and watched it roll off the sides. Then he scrambled around taking the bowls of food out to the buffet style table he’d set up since they didn’t have waitresses to serve them yet. He saved the slightly dark rolls for last, well aware of the complaints and ribbing he’d get out of them.
Sure enough, the moment he placed the rolls on the table, Laredo walked over and shook his head.
“Good thing Billy showed up when she did, little brother. We’re going to lose some wranglers if they had to keep eating your grub.”
“Fuck you. I don’t see you slaving away in the kitchen every day,” he replied.
Laredo just grinned and gave him a good-natured shove. “You started off decent enough, but things went downhill after the first few days. What happened? Run out of ideas and couldn’t figure out how to read a cookbook?”
“Ha-ha. Just shut up, Commando.” He scowled at his brother and went to get more serving spoons from the kitchen.
His brother loved to tease him about how much he hated reading. He’d had to read so much when they’d first been in boot camp that after that, he’d convinced Laredo to just tell him what something said and commit it to memory. The one difference between them was that while Laredo loved to read and had no trouble doing it, Laramie had always had problems due to a mild case of dyslexia that made reading more of a chore than a pleasure. Laredo might tease him about it, but his brother loved him and had always made sure he had the information he needed.
Having dyslexia could have gotten him kicked out of the army and certainly would have prevented him from becoming the Marine specialists he and his brother had achieved. Instead, his twin had made sure no one knew his one weakness and was there for him every step of the way. Though he wasn’t ashamed of having the problem, Laramie hadn’t wanted to be held back because of it. Now maybe he would think about helping others with his problem once they had the ranch on track and holding its own.
The sound of stomping feet and the mounting murmur of voices alerted him to the fact that the crew had arrived for dinner. He might as well go on out and take his ribbing like a man. There would be plenty of it.
* * * *
Something was burning. Billy Jean could smell it. She immediately sat up thinking she’d left something on the stove while she’d laid down to take a nap. When she looked around, nothing seemed familiar and for a few seconds, she thought she was still working for Gregg’s father’s company and staying in one of the many hotel rooms she’d grown so accustomed to.
As she threw back the covers and swung her legs off the edge of the comfortable bed, she started to remember where she was. Montana. Horses. Bossy, delicious-looking men that came in sets of two. She was so in over her head here. Then the scent of burnt bread hit her again and she quickly located her shoes before hurrying down the stairs to see who was stinking up her kitchen.
When she reached the ground floor, Billy Jean followed her nose to locate the kitchen. When she walked through the door, there was no one there. She ran over to the oven an opened it to find it blessedly empty. At least they hadn’t left something burning. She turned on the vent and looked around at the mess that needed to be cleaned up. She’d make sure whomever had made it helped. First though, she needed something to eat. She just prayed that something out there would be edible.
This time she followed her ears as the sound of voices reached her through a swinging door to her left. When she walked through it, she found a small wall that shielded the dining area from the entrance and exits of the kitchen. Good thinking on someone’s part. She walked to the right and ran right into a solid wall of flesh that let out a startled grunt and grabbed her before she bounced back off of him.
“Whoa there, sweetness. Did I hurt you? Didn’t see you coming,” Laramie said.
At least she thought it was Laramie.
“You wouldn’t have run me over if you’d entered on the correct side. You carry food out on the right and return to the kitchen on the left, which is your right when you’re facing it. Always look to your right.” She pulled from his grasp and took a step back.
“Sorry. I knew that, but I knew that no one else would ever step into that kitchen besides me. I didn’t expect you back up this soon,” he said with a grin.
“The smell of burning food tends to wake me up,” she told him sarcastically.
“See! Even she agrees that the rolls are burned, Stud!” someone said from behind the big man.
She leaned to one side and found that there were several very good-looking men sitting at two tables that had been shoved together. All eyes were directed in her direction. A few even had their forks stalled halfway to their mouths and their mouths wide open.
“No one said anything to you, Bear,” Laramie called back.
“Well move out of the way so we can get a good look at her, Stud,” another man called out.
“Stud? Are you serious?” she asked, shaking her head.
“It’s not what it sounds like. There’s a long story associated with it,” he said with what looked like an almost-bashful smile.
“No it’s not! Sit over here with us, little lady and we’ll fill you in on how he came to receive that nickname,” one of the men called out.
“She’s sitting with Laredo and I, hoss. Behave!” Laramie ushered her over to a table by the window where his twin sat with an amused expression on his face.
“I’ll fix you a plate. Have a seat,” he said as he pulled out a chair.
She let him seat her then turned to Laredo. “I have a few rules when it comes to the kitchen.”
“I expect you do. You can tell both of us all about them once we’ve finished eating. I kind of expect that one of them will be that Laramie isn’t allowed in there ever again,” he quipped.
“That’s up for negotiation until after I’ve tasted his cooking,” she shot back.
“Understandable. I’ll be very interested to hear your take on the subject,” he said.
“What subject?” Laramie asked as he set a plate of food in front of her.
At least she thought it was food.
“She wants to discuss the rules she has for the kitchen after we’ve finished eating,” Laredo said without cracking a smile.
“Sure. I hope one of them is that I’m not allowed back inside of it,” he said.
She nearly spit out the first bite of what she thought was roast at that statement. When she looked over at his brother, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on the man’s face. He had to be made of granite.
She managed to swallow down a small portion of the overcooked roast, and fared much better with the vegetables, but drew the line at even touching the roll that appeared to have been cooked using a flamethrower. No doubt the others had long since rescued any that didn’t have crispy black patches before she’d arrived to get first pick.
When she looked up, Laramie was staring at her with a forlorn expression on his face. She immediately felt bad about the thoughts she’d been having concerning his culinary skills.
“You aren’t eating enough to keep you alive, Billy Jean. I know my cooking isn’t much, but you do need to eat more than what you did,” he said.
“Um, I’m not really all that hungry,” she said. The enormous gurgling that emerged from the general direction of her stomach once again put her in her place and she felt heat creep up her neck to her cheeks.
“Have mercy on her, Laramie. She thinks you’re really upset that she isn’t eating your cooking,” Laredo said with a scowl.
Immediately, the other man’s face relaxed into a mile wide grin. “It sucks. I know. I’ll help you clean up and you can fix something that’s a little more edible.”
Billy Jean relaxed. Then she bristled that he’d said that he would help her clean up when he’d been the one that had demolished the kitchen in the first place.
“Uh-oh. You put your foot in it good this time, Stud,” Laredo said.
“What did I say?” he asked.
“Don’t!” she said louder than she meant to. “Let him figure it out after we have our little talk.”
This time Laredo chuckled. Laramie frowned then shrugged. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to let it worry him. Just wait until he figured out how particular she was when it came to cleaning up. Men didn’t know how to clean up behind themselves either. He’d soon learn not to make a mess in her kitchen again.
“I have three very simple rules that will make or break our relationship as your chef,” she began. “Number one is that no one ever, ever cooks in my kitchen unless I’m there to supervise or I’m on death’s door.”
Laramie and Laredo exchanged glances and nodded without saying a word. She wasn’t surprised to see the huge grin that spread over Laramie’s mouth. He hadn’t wanted to cook again anyway.
“Number two. If you do ever have the fortunate opportunity to cook in my kitchen, either with me present or with me on my deathbed, you will clean up to my exacting standards.”
“Question,” Laramie said with a straight face. “Are you going to show us your standards so we can follow them?”
“Don’t worry, Stud. You’re going to get plenty of practice tonight,” she said sweetly.
Laredo spit tea across the table at that. His brother pretended to wipe tea off his shirt. For the first time in a long time, Billy Jean realized she was enjoying herself. It felt good.
“What’s the third rule?” Laredo finally asked once he’d stopped coughing.
“Number three is the most important one of all. I’m the boss in my kitchen. Whatever I say goes,” she finished with a smile and leaned back.
Once again the two men exchanged glances as if they were communicating without speaking. They turned back to her and smiled. Laramie even winked at her.
“I think we can live with those rules. We’ll make certain that everyone else knows them, too,” Laredo said.
“Then I think we’ll get along famously,” she said as she stood up.
Both men stood with her. She started to head back to the kitchen when Laramie stopped her.
“Don’t you want to try a piece of my pie?” he asked.
She tried to stop the look of horror from spreading across her face. Really she did, but evidently she didn’t succeed fast enough because the entire table behind her erupted in wild laughter. She turned to glare at them until they zipped it then she turned back to Laramie trying to figure out how to decline.
“Um, maybe after the kitchen is clean and I’ve had time to digest my dinner,” she said.
“Face it, Laramie. She doesn’t want to risk food poisoning,” Laredo said.
“Don’t worry, Billy Jean. It’s store-bought lemon ice box pie. You won’t die from it,” Laramie finally said with a smirk.
She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe later. I’m really anxious to get my kitchen back in shape again. Come along, Stud. It’s time for your first lesson.”
Chapter Four
Early the next morning, Billy Jean set the last dish of food on the table among the men joking around the table. She’d enlarged the eating area to take into consideration the added serving dishes and a few extra chairs. She intended to eat with the group when she was able to. Being one of the employees, she didn’t expect to sit with the bosses all the time.
As soon as she sat down, everyone grabbed a dish and served themselves, passing it around when they finished. To her surprise, when Laramie and Laredo walked in, they joined them at the table as if they always did. The wranglers didn’t act as if it was anything unusual, so maybe they normally did.
“How did you sleep, Billy Jean?” Laramie asked as he spooned scrambled eggs on his plate.
“Really well, thanks,” she answered.
“How about you guys introducing yourselves to our new chef so she can get to know you all,” Laredo said.
“I’ll start,” she said. “I’m Billy Jean Simmons from Kentucky.”
“I’m Reed Santana from Texas. I’m the head wrangler here.” The man to her right with hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair nodded and took a bite of the hash browns she’d made.
The man next to him smiled broadly and dipped his head. “I’m Dakota Woods. I’m Reed’s stepbrother and I’m from Texas, too.”
Billy Jean smiled back. Both men were tall and well built. It was obvious by how they held themselves that they were comfortable in their own skin. They each looked to be around thirty years old.
“I’m Bo Cotu. I’m from the northwest part of Montana.” He nodded at her, but didn’t smile.
“I’m Dalton Crazy Bear. My friend here didn’t tell you that he’s our trail boss and one of the naturalists on board. In case you didn’t realize it, he’s Blackfoot and doesn’t talk much. I’m a mix of Blackfoot and Crow. I talk plenty.” He grinned at her and winked while his friend scowled.
“Hi, Dalton. Great to meet you both.” She couldn’t help smiling back. The man was amazing with his rich black hair that hung to his waist. Bo’s hair was just as thick and beautiful in the thick braid that reached mid back.
“I’m Shakespeare. I’m over maintenance and transportation. I was born and raised in Big Sky, Montana.” The older man nodded and continued eating.
“I’m Shelby Flint from Wyoming. I’m the office manager and your room mate upstairs.” Though she seemed friendly enough, Billy Jean sensed a sadness about the woman.
She had the prettiest green eyes Billy had ever seen. Her golden-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail but had so much curl to it that it looked more like a bouquet of flowers sticking out the back.
“I’m Rusty Fowlkes from Tennessee. I’m one of the naturalists here,” he said, nodding his head.
Rusty had light brown hair with highlights of gold and gorgeous blue eyes. He wasn’t quite as tall as the other men looked to be, but stood just shy of six feet from what she could tell.
“We’ve got five ladies who come in daily to handle housekeeping that you’ll meet later and two full-time with two part-time waitresses who you’ll meet later as well,” Laredo said.
“I have to say that this is the best breakfast I’ve had in months,” Dalton broke in.
“Suck-up,” Bo growled next to him.
“Go on, rub it in, guys. I know my cooking wasn’t all that great,” Laramie said with a chuckle.
“Ah, that’s an understatement,” Dakota countered.
Everyone laughed and continued discussing the day’s work ahead of them. Billy allowed the moment to warm her. She felt a part of something at last without the added pressure of Gregg breathing down her neck. She would be just fine as long as she was able to avoid getting anywhere near the horses.
“Okay, everyone. We’ve got the rest of this week before our first guests arrive on Sunday. Let’s make sure everything is ready for them. Look for potential problems and bring them to our attention as soon as possible. Have a good day.” Laramie nodded and picking up his plate, carried it over to the large roll cart for dirty dishes.
Everyone began to get up and carry their dishes to the cart as well. When there was just Billy and Shelby left at the table, Billy slumped back in her chair to enjoy the last of her coffee. She felt confident that she’d made the right choice in serving basic breakfast fare instead of trying for a little bit of fancy. They were down-to-earth men who worked hard and needed filling food to carry them through till lunchtime.
“I’m heading back to the office. Do you need help with the dishes before I go?” Shelby’s soft voice startled her.
“No thanks. I’ve got it. I appreciate the offer though. Stop by later for a coffee break if you have time.” Billy smiled as the other woman rose and carried her dishes over to the cart.
Once she’d taken the last sip of the cooling liquid, she stood up and stacked her dishes even as she took note of how little food was left. While she didn’t want to waste food, she needed to be sure there was plenty for them to eat. Most people would leave a little in the serving bowls in case someone else might want it. She didn’t want anyone to ever feel that there wasn’t enough for them to have their fill.
