Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers)

by Brenda Sinclair

  “Come in,” called the familiar male voice.

  Sierra slipped inside and closed the door. A small squeak escaped her lips when Chad sauntered out of his en suite and stood dripping wet, hands on hips, wearing nothing but a towel around his middle. “What did you want to discuss with me?” he asked, confusion evident on his face.

  He probably was wondering what she was doing in his room. She questioned the wisdom of it herself. Maybe she should have just texted him. “I...I…we…” she stammered. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she’d wanted to say. She should look away. But her eyes were glued to his muscular upper body while her mind imagined what was hidden behind that towel.

  “Do you need more time to get ready? I won’t hold you to the half hour. If you…”

  “No,” she interrupted. Her heart ricocheted about in her chest like a pinball in an arcade machine. Why did he have to look so enticing in that damn towel? Lead us not into temptation…but what a way to go.

  “No, what?” he tipped his head, waiting for her answer.

  “This is a bad idea on so many levels. We shouldn’t go out to dinner together. It would feel like…like a date.” She swallowed hard. The angel on her shoulder insisted she shouldn’t be dating the boss. The devil on her other shoulder asked, why the hell not?

  “It is a date. A date for dinner. I’m not sweeping you off to a secret location to elope. It’s just dinner.” Chad’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she accused, noticing how the towel protruded in front. While she stood here making a total fool of herself, he was enjoying her discomfort and becoming aroused to boot. She waved her hand in his direction. “Don’t you have a robe or something? I’m so embarrassed about last night that…”

  “Nothing happened.” Chad dragged his hand through his glistening hair. “Well, a lot of ‘almost’ happened, but we stopped before...”

  “Yes, well, thank goodness for that.” Sierra blew out her breath. Why did she want a guy who infuriated her as often as he aroused her? Nothing about her attraction to the guy made sense.

  “You have no idea.” Chad flopped onto the bed and met her eyes. “Mom rolled her wheelchair into the dining room about two minutes after you left.”

  “Oh, my, God!” Sierra’s knees weakened, and she collapsed onto the bed beside him. Her stomach flip-flopped, bile rising. The pain behind her eyes intensified. Could this situation get much worse? She should just hide in her room for the rest of forever. “Do you think she heard us?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She would have said something if she had. And nothing good either. I would have gotten the speech about what gentlemen my father and grandfather were. Making love on the dining room table would definitely not qualify as gentlemanly behavior in Mom’s eyes.” Chad grinned and reached for her. “Making love in the privacy of my bedroom though...”

  Sierra leapt off the bed and fisted her hands. “No, no, no. We are not doing anything. Your mother expects me to be dressed for a date with you in…” She looked at her watch. “Oh, Lord. Twenty minutes.”

  “Better hurry up then.” Chad stood and casually dropped the towel as he strode toward his closet. “I’ll be ready on time.”

  Sierra gasped. Warmth rushed through her body and she felt herself moisten. Chad Parker owned the most delectable set of buns she’d ever seen. Well, buns on a man. Her to-die-for cinnamon buns were a favorite with all the cowboys. She caught a glimpse of his erection in the mirrored door before she reluctantly turned and strode out of his room. She couldn’t remain there a second longer, or she would have grabbed him and tossed him onto the bed. They’d definitely never have made it out to dinner.

  She charged into her bedroom across the hall and headed for the en suite. A hot shower would do nothing for her inflamed body, but the steam might ease her pounding headache. She stripped her clothes off and turned the knobs on.

  “My new floral sundress, strappy tan sandals, hair up in a slightly messy do, minimal makeup, and diamond studs.” She recited what she’d wear while she shampooed and scrubbed herself with scented body wash. “Am I missing anything? Purse, cell phone and lip gloss. I can do this.”

  She toweled off, blow dried her hair, and dressed in record time. After applying minimal makeup—the bruise and scrapes had almost totally faded—she spritzed her favorite scent between her breasts and down both arms. The salesgirl who talked her into the sinfully-named, outrageously-priced cologne guaranteed her it would drive her dates crazy. Chad Parker would definitely remember this evening.

  Twenty-three minutes later, Sierra strolled down the hallway and discovered Bonnie and Chad in the reading room. Chad wore a white shirt left open at the neck, black jeans that fit in all the right places, a pair of exquisite snakeskin-patterned cowboy boots, and a pale gray suit jacket.

  Holy cow, he looked handsome!

  “Celia is serving supper in a few minutes. Have fun tonight, son,” said Mrs. Parker, seated in her wheelchair with her back to Sierra.

  “I’m ready,” Sierra announced, drawing their attention. She held her breath, waiting for their reactions.

  Mrs. Parker swung her wheelchair around and Chad raised his head.

  A smile lit up Bonnie’s face immediately, and Sierra knew her appearance had passed the test.

  “You look absolutely lovely,” she commented.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker.”

  “Please, call me Bonnie.”

  “Thank you, Bonnie.”

  Chad’s jaw dropped. He remained speechless for several seconds and then he whistled long and low.

  She felt herself blush like a silly schoolgirl, pleased with his reaction. But they’d been tricked into the date by his mother. The date represented nothing more than a meal out together. Why did his approval mean so much to her?

  “Wow, you look amazing. But I’ve got a date with Sierra Griffin tonight, so whoever you are you’ve got to leave right now,” he grinned, and then patted his mother’s shoulder before he crossed the room and stood beside his date.

  Sierra laughed and wagged her finger at him, playfully. “Very funny. Let’s go cowboy. I’m starving.”

  “Have fun tonight. I won’t wait up,” called Bonnie.

  Sierra caught Bonnie watching and beaming with approval, as Chad hooked Sierra’s arm through his and escorted her out the door.

  * * *

  “I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t have prepared this meal better myself.” Sierra finished the wine in her glass. She’d enjoyed dinner at the steakhouse Bonnie had chosen and highly recommended. Sitting across the table from Chad in the dimly-lit interior had increased her pleasure. She enjoyed just staring into his eyes and listening to his deep masculine voice rumble in his chest as he spoke.

  “The food was really good,” agreed Chad.

  Walled in on three sides, their booth served as their own private hideaway. Soft music drifted throughout the restaurant, reaching their ears without impeding conversation. “The service was impeccable and the atmosphere inviting. The perfect dining experience for which all restaurants strive.”

  “A great start to our evening out.” Chad’s fork swiped the last bite of cheesecake off the dessert plate they’d shared.

  Sierra watched Chad’s expression as the decadent morsel melted in his mouth. He’d eaten most of the calorie-laden finish to the meal.

  They lingered over coffee and chatted non-stop about cooking, horses, movies, and western music. After paying the waitress—judging by her wide smile he included a generous tip—Chad reached for her hand, and both of them groaned as they stood to leave.

  “Where should we go for a drink?” inquired Chad, an expectant expression on his face as he held open the rough-hewn wooden door for her.

  “Ranchman’s should be hopping soon,” said Sierra, stepping outside. A stiff evening breeze welcomed her and cooled the stifling summer air. The wind blew her shoulder-length locks into her eyes; she’d left her h
air down for their date. “My best girlfriend and I love dancing the two-step, and we make it a point to hang out there before and during Stampede.”

  “I’m not certain I want to share you with a bunch of horny cowboys.” Chad appeared to ponder her suggestion.

  “I promise I will only dance with you.” Sierra held up her hand, fingers arranged in the famous Scouts honor position.

  “Okay. Since you promised and all,” he chuckled.

  They rode in his pickup out of the downtown area heading south on Macleod Trail. Twenty minutes later, they cruised by Ranchman’s packed parking lot. Chad found a spot a block away and they walked to the bar.

  Chad opened the door for her and escorted her inside. They paused for a few seconds to allow their eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Western music provided by a live band pounded throughout the place, and Sierra admired the special additions to the interior decor in honor of Stampede. Patrons of the city’s famous bar overflowed onto the attached patio, and waitresses wandered throughout the room, trays held aloft, taking orders and conversing with customers.

  “I know those wagon drivers over there.” Chad raised his voice to be heard over the music and pointed to a table in the far corner. “Do you mind if we join them?”

  “Not at all,” she responded without hesitation.

  Sierra followed behind Chad, cautiously avoiding the crowd milling about. Finally, they reached the table and no one had stepped on her sandaled feet.

  “Hey, guys! Tomorrow’s the day when all hell breaks loose.” Chad grinned broadly as he shook the other men’s hands in turn.

  Sierra smiled. The big strong hunk of manhood standing beside her resembled a little kid looking forward to Christmas morning.

  “Sierra, that fellow is Wayne Robbins and this here’s Terry Maguire. This is Sierra Griffin, guys. She’s working at the ranch for a few weeks until I find someone permanent.” Chad beamed as he introduced her.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” drawled both men in unison as they touched their hat brims.

  “Lovely to meet you guys, too.” Sierra nodded, her heartbeat quickening when she noticed how proud Chad appeared. Was he genuinely happy she’d agreed to their date? Or just didn’t want to disappoint his mother?

  “Barn help?” asked blonde-haired Terry, sporting a black Stetson, faded jeans and a western shirt open at the neck.

  “Hell no. She’s cooking for us. Mom’s not able to handle the workload anymore, so I’m looking for some kitchen help.” Chad slipped into the only vacant chair at the table. He pulled Sierra onto his lap so smoothly she didn’t realize what had happened until she felt his arm around her waist and his hand resting on her thigh.

  Sierra’s back stiffened immediately, but then she forced herself to relax and enjoy the sensations racing through her body at the casual contact. To anyone watching, Chad wouldn’t seem bothered by their intimate contact, but sitting on his lap, Sierra felt the evidence of his attraction to her.

  “We missed you at Ponoka,” observed Terry.

  “Couldn’t be helped, but Chris and the guys did me proud. Mom took a bad spill with her walker, ended up in the hospital,” explained Chad.

  “Is she okay?” asked Wayne, concern evident in his expression.

  “She’s confined to a wheelchair now, but she’s doing okay.” Chad met Sierra’s eyes and he smiled.

  She knew what he was thinking. Her change in attitude today had everything to do with her.

  “Where are your wives?” asked Chad.

  “At some big mall north of here. They love coming to Calgary. We come to race horses and they come to shop.” Wayne shook his head.

  “Are they joining you when the mall closes?” continued Chad.

  “We drove over here together. The women have Terry’s truck and they’re supposed to meet up with us.” Wayne checked his watch. “Should be along soon enough.”

  Chad and Sierra ordered drinks and then danced for several songs. When they returned to their table, Wayne’s and Terry’s wives had arrived, and the party started. Sierra offered to be designated driver and Chad ordered several more beers for his pals and their wives and a Coke for her. They’d found enough chairs for everyone. She occupied the chair beside him, but his arm rested along her leg, a subtle indication she was here with him. Everyone at their table joined in the conversation, laughing and teasing each other. Clearly, Chad was thoroughly enjoying his evening out with his buddies, but every so often he’d lean over and kiss her cheek or smile or ask if she was enjoying herself. She’d barely finish her Coke, and he’d order her another one. Even in the company of his buddies, Chad was an attentive date.

  Talk turned to horses and Stampede and sponsors and Sierra’s mind wandered. Not one customer appeared to have a care in the world, and the place vibrated with raucous shouting and laughter and country music. Cowboys certainly know how to kick up their heels. The guys’ wives pulled her into their conversation and Sierra relaxed in spite of the fact Chad’s arm remained on her leg with their hands entwined.

  A gray-haired fellow ambled over to their table. “Mind if I take your lady friend for a spin around the dance floor, Chad?” he drawled.

  Chad met Sierra’s eyes and smiled. “Well now, Willie, she did promise to only dance with me. I’ve no objection, but I’ll leave the decision to the lady.”

  Sierra rose from her chair and handed Chad her purse. He set it down on her vacant chair. “I would be honored,” she acknowledged the old fellow’s request with a broad smile.

  The old-timer grabbed Sierra’s hand with surprising strength and hurried her onto the dance floor. Probably not taking any chances that she’d reconsider her decision. Sierra was pleasantly surprised by how well he danced.

  “You his girlfriend?” he asked, his bushy moustache bobbing with each word.

  “I’m the cook at the Whispering Pines, and we’re just out together for the evening. Nothing serious.” Sierra slowed her steps as the music changed from a two-step to a waltz.

  “Too bad. That boy needs a wife.” The old guy held Sierra closely, but not so much so as to offend her. “Bonnie Parker has been trying to marry off her only son for years now. I thought you two looked mighty fine together on the dance floor. Both of you are good-looking. You’d make some fine babies together.”

  Sierra’s mouth dropped open. She looked into the old fellow’s eyes and realized he was totally serious.

  “And Chad’s love life concerns you, why?” she blurted, rudely, before she could stop herself.

  “’Cause my daughter Cathy doesn’t want a thing to do with the boy, and his mother’s insufferable matchmaking is becoming a little trying to the girl.”

  “Your name wouldn’t be Willie Smythe, would it?”

  “That’d be me.” He nodded.

  “I met your daughter over lunch today. Lovely young woman.” Sierra smiled at Cathy’s father, totally shocked that she managed to say that with a straight face.

  “Humph. I heard about lunch. Thankfully, you were there to help Bonnie. My daughter is totally useless in an emergency, same as her mother was. God rest her soul.”

  The music stopped and Sierra pulled out of his hold. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Smythe. It’s my understanding that you and the Parkers are neighbors and good friends. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again.”

  “Might do at that. Nice meeting you, miss. Hope things work out with you and young Chad.” He touched the brim of his Stetson and walked her back to the table.

  “Here’s your young lady, Chad.” Willie Smythe grinned. “I’d hang on to this one if I was you. Won’t find one better.”

  “Thanks, Willie,” growled Chad as his neighbor turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Sierra noticed Chad’s expression. “Who deflated your soufflé?”

  “What?” asked Chad, frowning.

  “Why are you so pissed?” she asked, settling on her chair.

  “Old Willie was holding you a little close while you we
re dancing,” he whispered. “You like your men a little aged, like fine wine?”

  “Definitely. Gray-hair is so sexy. No silly thirty-something guy for me,” she replied, sipping her Coke. “They’re unreasonably jealous.”

  Chad’s hands found her sides and he tickled her. She almost spilled some of her Coke. “I’m not jealous, and thirty-something guys have a lot to offer,” he whispered when she stopped squirming.

  Sierra attempted a protest, but her words were lost when Chad covered her mouth with warm lips and took her breath away with a seemingly endless hot kiss.

  Finally, they came up for air.

  “Get a room, Parker,” muttered Wayne, before leading his wife onto the dance floor.

  Terry tipped back his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “I second that,” he added as he stood, took his wife’s hand, and they trailed behind the other couple.

  “Ready to call it a night?” asked Chad.

  “Could we have one more dance?” asked Sierra, breathlessly. If she left right now with this hot-blooded man, she might make love to him in the parking lot.

  “Sounds like an excellent idea,” agreed Chad, pulling her onto the dance floor. “I need a moment to recover from that kiss.”

  “You read my mind,” admitted Sierra as he drew her close for the waltz.

  Chad nuzzled her neck and his arms wrapped around her middle. His hands rested possessively on her butt and he drew her close against his body. She felt his erection through the thin material of her sundress. Her arms moved to his shoulders and soon worked their way around his neck. Her fingers played with the soft curls at the back of his head, something she’d wanted to do for days now. She inhaled the woodland scent of his shampoo which mingled nicely with his aftershave.

  As they worked their way around the dance floor, Chad whispered in her ear, “Dancing this close isn’t helping my recovery.”

  Sierra laughed. “Mine either,” she whispered back.

  “Maybe we should just call it a night,” suggested Chad, pulling back and meeting her eyes.

  For a moment, she lost herself in those cerulean depths, seeing only kindness and caring. There wasn’t a mean bone in his good-natured body, and he would never hurt her. She’d never before felt so safe with any man.