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“Why the photos?” he asked Autumn. “I mean, who the hell wants to look at pictures of food from some diner out in the middle of nowhere!” He gave Summer a baleful side-eye. “Besides, you were the one who told me no food photos in the menu.”
“That was the menu. This is Instagram. It’s different,” Autumn explained with a laugh. Suddenly, she looked like her old self again, not the tense, unhappy woman she’d been since arriving at the ranch yesterday. “And you’d be surprised at how popular the #foodstagram tag is, Brock. Honestly, I’d love to help you guys out. Anything to support my family and my hometown.”
“We’ll all be there to try your food and cheer you on,” Mom said. “As will everyone else in town, once they hear what’s happening. Just let us know when.”
“How about this Friday?” Brock said confidently. “Unless Ms. Fancy Pants Chef here doesn’t think she can be ready by then.”
“Bring it on,” Summer said. “I’m looking forward to bossing you around for an entire day when I win.” She gave him a saccharine smile. “But remember, you can always use your safe word, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”
Chapter Twelve – Brock
The Yummy Cowboy Diner
Thursday, June 16
“We need to close the diner for breakfastandlunch tomorrow,” Summer announced in the middle of lunch prep.
“Are you crazy?” Brock spun around from where he was mixing up a batch of biscuit dough in the big Hobart mixer. “I already agreed to give up all of my breakfast checks. Now you want to take away all my lunch earnings as well?”
Predictably, Marlene spun around to watch the fireworks, turning her back on a batch of bacon and eggs sizzling on the flattop, courtesy of a late breakfast order.
On weekdays, breakfast rush typically ran from six a.m. until about eight-thirty. The diner always had a few latecomers trickle in between nine and ten-thirty, mostly retired folks wanting to enjoy a leisurely brunch over a friendly card game with their friends.
Without a pressing need to turn over tables, Brock didn’t mind them hanging around, as long as they cleared out before lunch rush started around noon.
“Itoldyou,” Summer said, her condescending tone setting Brock’s teeth on edge. “The dinner checks will more than make up for it, especially with the appetizers and desserts. You’ll just have to trust me.”
She gave him one of those superior “I’m a trained chef” smiles, and that did it.
“Trust you? Trust isn’t gonna cover my bills!” Brock shouted. “Or anyone’s paychecks.”
“But—” Summer began.
“You don’t seem to understand thatI’mthe one putting everything on the line here!”
“That’s not true,” she said, her quiet tone a rebuke to Brock’s yelling.
It only made him angrier. He glared at her back with its thick braid of golden hair. “Oh yeah?”
She sighed loudly, put down the knife she’d been using to dice tomatoes for a test run of bruschetta, and peeled off her food service gloves before turning to face Brock.
“Look, we have a lot of prep for tomorrow evening. Not to mention, a bunch of new menu items that neither you nor Marlene have cooked before,” she pointed out with maddening calm.
Dammit! He couldn’t decide if he wanted to throw her and her smug attitude out of his kitchen—or just shut her up by kissing her again.
With her family there yesterday, he hadn’t gotten the goodbye kiss he’d been hoping for. And it annoyed him she hadn’t even tried to follow him out to his truck after dinner was over.
He hated the idea that he was the only one burning for a second round of tasting her sweet lips.
Fantasies about her hot, wet mouth wrapped around his cock had kept him awake for a long time last night, and even repeated sessions of jerking off had done little to relieve his desire.
He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, and he resented the power that gave her over him, even if she didn’t know what she did to him.
It was fucking unfair.
“We won’t have time to learn everything we need to do if we’re dealing with lunch orders tomorrow.” Summer was still talking, oblivious to the turn his thoughts had taken.
She turned to Marlene. “Marlene, what do you think? How much time will you need to learn to make the appetizers, my seared bison filet, and the fish?”
