Page 45 of Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

I follow the steps one by one.

Seasoning- done

Carrots, potatoes – done.

All I need to do is set the table as the room begins to smell different.

Taking a big sniff, I look around, only to find my biggest fear right behind me.

"Oh no, no, no!"

The steak begins to burn, smoke filling the cottage. I'm coughing, trying to take care of the problem, but it's too late.

"Oh no, no, no!" I rush frantically, opening the oven. As soon as I do, the smoke billows out, causing me to cough even harder.

Just great!

The meat – burnt to crisp.

It's no longer fit for human consumption, even Duke and Rusty would reject this, honestly. As I continue to stare at the disaster in front of me, I'm also aware that the cottage is filling with smoke, leaving the place smelling terrible.

I still have raw steak I haven't cooked, but I'm not confident I can finish in time for Austin's arrival. Plus, what if it doesn't taste good. There was no other backup. I had only bought ingredients for this meal. What am I going to do now?

Looking at the mess, I close my eyes, wondering what in the world had possessed me to try a new recipe at the last minute. Well, it's time to swallow my pride. To re-strategize and come out stronger, is the suit of a successful lawyer.

This is not me backing down, just… trying a different method.

There is only one thing left I can do. I decide to order takeout.

"Hello, Vida's Diner?" I say into my phone, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'd like to order two steak dinners, please. With all the fixings."

"Yes, and two breadsticks. Yes…." I say.

As soon as the call is over, I begin cleaning the kitchen, trying to get rid of the smell of smoke. I place more flowers I had gotten from the ranch around the cottage, hoping to mask any lingering odor.

I'm sweating from all the effort, and I have to clean my armpits. As I'm rushing to the bathroom, I nearly fall, catching myself on the doorframe. Then I hear a sound.

My heart races as I try to decide if it's Austin or the delivery driver. I check my phone, my mouth dry. Fortunately, it's the delivery driver.

I feel light and a bit cold as I half-walk, and half-run out of the cottage to meet the driver at the gate.

"That was quick," I say, surprised.

The driver grins. "We pride ourselves on speedy service, ma'am. Especially for our lawyer friends."

I force a laugh, tipping him generously. Without waiting for him to drive away, I run back inside to plate the food.

I dump the contents onto the fanciest plates I managed to find in the cottage when I hear the unmistakable sound of a car driving up the driveway.

"Oh man!"

In a panic, I throw the takeout containers into the bin and push it under the kitchen island. With only a moment to spare, I dash to the bathroom. My reflection shows me looking frazzled, my eyes wide with nerves. I try to adjust my hair before rushing back to the door.

Taking a calming breath, I open the door with my best lawyer face. But as soon as I see Austin, my words die in my throat. He looks so good and smells even better.

"Hayley," he says warmly, holding out a bouquet. "These are for you."

I stare at the flowers - my favorites. He must have remembered from our last outing. "T-thank you," I stammer. "They're beautiful."

---