Page 52 of Flirting With Fire
“Unless you can think of anything else, the only thing missing seems to be the pickles.”
I smiled at him. “I’ve got everything I need.”
A flash of something passed over his features then the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile as well. “Me too. I’ll be right back.”
By the time he returned, my hunger drove all other thoughts from my mind, and we dug in. It had been a grueling day for us both. The morning began with helping Cal and one of the hands capture a naughty cow escapee. Then Meyer and I stole into town for my usual morning pastry and coffee run.
The rest of the day for me revolved around preparing the winter pastures. Getting the bigger tasks taken care of before the fiesta meant pushing myself even harder than usual. I was pretty beat, but Meyer always managed to perk me up in the best of ways.
I licked some ketchup from the side of my mouth and caught Meyer staring. Since I found myself doing the same to him all the time, I could hardly complain. He winked.
“We got so, uh,sidetrackedthe other night, we never finished our conversation about Kayla. She’ll be coming soon,though, right? We’ve been doing a lot to get ready for the fiesta.” He started fixing himself a second burger. “The crew is all hands on deck that weekend. We’ll need a team at the firehouses and a team downtown on standby for emergencies.”
I nodded. “I’m sure the chief told you about the incident with the churro cart getting knocked over last year, catching that bale of hay on fire?”
Meyer rolled his eyes. “Yup. It’s a good thing they were right there before it got out of control. What were those two cowboys fighting about? I never got that part of the story out of him.”
I held in a snort with limited success. “Actually, it was one of my guys here and a rival for Jessica Montgomery’s attention from another ranch.”
Meyer furrowed his brow. “Remind me?”
“You know, Jessica? The head cheerleader from your senior year.” My cheeks heated.
Meyer shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Why are you assuming I’d remember someone I haven’t seen for ten years without some context?”
I did my best to keep my expression flat. “No reason.” I was both fidgeting and failing to appear unruffled. I sighed. “Okay, I might’ve been assuming all these years that you guys were an item back then.”
Meyer groaned. “I thought we went over this already. I wasn’t pawing cheerleaders or anyone else in high school.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know, I know. I still catch myself remembering how I assumed things were before you set me straight.”
Meyer mock gasped. “Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t make you straight.”
“Har har.” I pursed my lips, passing him the ketchup bottle. “Anyway, I know you’ll have a lot to handle during the fiesta.”
He closed the ketchup bottle then elbowed me. “We’re getting sidetracked again. Kayla? Did you tell her about my reappearance?” My face flushed hot once more, and he barked out a laugh. “Guess that answers my question. That’s cool. It’ll be nice to see her again.”
“Uh… Actually, she’s not coming home this year for the fiesta.”
Meyer’s brow wrinkled. “Really? Mom said she was looking forward to getting some of the family salsa. Didn’t she tell you the other night that she wanted four jars?”
I smacked my forehead. The fiesta was only a few weeks away, and I still hadn’t broken the news to the fiesta committee that we wouldn’t need that booth after all. And I might’ve been taking preorders still because my cojones went missing every time I had to disappoint people. Instead, I was only making it worse by putting off the inevitable. Not only that, everyone would blame poor Kayla when it was actually her brother who was the giant screw-up.
Meyer regarded me with a concerned expression and put his burger down. “Hey, Dex. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, man. I’m such a wimp. I haven’t been able to work up the nerve to tell the fiesta committee that I’m canceling. Plus, not only has your mom ordered salsa, but half the town did as well. They’ve been pouring in since after the Fourth of July celebration, same way they do every year. It’s a freakin’ staple of the fiesta.” I dropped my head in my hands. “It never occurred to me that Kayla might not show up. Everyone’s going to be so disappointed, and I haven’t had the nerve to face it yet.”
Meyer appeared to be in deep thought as I told my wretched story. He rubbed his stubbled chin between thumb and forefinger, his eyebrows dipping low as if he were solving a complicated math problem.
“Do you have the recipe for the salsa?”
“Uh… Maybe? But I guess I could always get it from Kayla. If nothing else, she’d know where Mom kept it.”
Meyer tilted his head. “You don’t know where the cookbooks or anything like that are kept?”
I picked at the edges of lettuce sticking out from my burger. As I worked on making them perfectly even with the bun, I tamped down the flurry of emotions trying to escape me. The cookbooks stuffed with scraps of paper marking a favorite dish, or index cards with handwritten recipes—many with spots and stains from spilled ingredients—were a roadmap of my childhood.
I hadn’t dared to search for them after she passed. I couldn’t bear it.
