The Texan's One-Night Standoff

This time.

With this man.

She wasn’t lying. She had no other choice.

Four

“You’re cooking?” Brooks asked Ruby as he walked into his father’s kitchen later that day.

Ruby glanced at him from her spot at the stove. She wore a black dress that landed just above her knees, fitting every curve on her body like a glove. A pink polka-dotted apron tied at the neck and waist didn’t detract from the look. Brooks was beginning to think Ruby looked sexy in everything she wore.

“I’m cooking. Beau wanted me to make you a special dinner for your first night here.”

“Do you cook every night?”

“No, that’s Lupe’s job. She’s the best cook in the county, but this recipe comes from my father’s family, and it’s something Beau likes me to cook on occasion.”

Brooks walked over to the stove. “I’m the occasion?”

She smiled. “You’re the occasion.”

He lifted the top off the enamel pot. Steam drifted up, and the scents of Mexico filled the room.

“Be careful. It’s hot,” she said, shoving a pot holder into his hand.

“What is it?”

“It’s called receta de costillas de res en salsa verde. It’s braised short ribs in tomatillo sauce.”

“Smells delicious.”

“It’s not too spicy for a gringo.” Her mouth twisted.

“You’re all the spice I can manage in his house.”

Ruby whipped her head around to the kitchen door. “Dios! Don’t say things like that,” she whispered. “I don’t like lying to Beau.”

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