Must Love Cowboys by Cheryl Brooks Page B

impatience. “Important safety tip. Now, will you please leave her alone? I’m starving!”
    â€œOkay, okay, okay .” Dean threw up his hands and backed off.
    I chuckled as I spotted the warning label on the hood controls. “Apparently, the griddle is never supposed to be operated without the fan. Wish I’d noticed that sooner.”
    â€œYeah, well, you live and learn,” Nick said, stepping forward with a plate. “Three eggs and six bacons, please.”
    Chuckling, I retrieved the spatula and dished up his portion. “There you go, Nick. Chow down.”
    The others lined up for their share, and I doled out the remainder.
    Joe was last in line. “Didn’t you fix any for yourself?”
    â€œI’m having an omelet,” I replied, putting the last two strips of bacon on my own plate. “I want to see how well it works on this griddle.” I cracked two eggs into a bowl, added some milk and seasonings, stirred it up, and poured it on the griddle. “This thing is awesome,” I exclaimed as the eggs began to sizzle. “Wish I had one at home.”
    â€œYou, um, like to cook?” Joe ventured.
    â€œI love to cook,” I replied. “I used to take cookies into work once or twice a month.” I paused as I recalled that the days I’d brought in goodies were about the only times my male coworkers ever acknowledged my existence. That old saying about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach was bogus, though. I was living proof of that. “I’ve always had this fantasy about cooking for a gang of hungry firemen or construction workers or something. That way I could cook as much as I wanted and nothing would go to waste.” Deeming it best to omit the wild, orgasmic fun-and-games aspect of that fantasy, I let out a sigh. “Feeding my sick grandfather wasn’t any fun at all. He was hardly ever hungry and picked at anything I gave him. I probably threw away more food than he actually ate.”
    Joe hesitated before darting a quick glance at me. He seemed almost as shy as I was, which struck me as an odd personality trait in a foreman. “Don’t suppose feeding a bunch of hungry cowboys would fill the bill, would it?”
    I blinked, realizing that here was my ultimate fantasy come to life. Granted, they weren’t firemen, but six cowboys out riding the range all day would work up one heck of an appetite. I could make all the pies and cakes and casseroles and pot roasts and bread I wanted—aside from the fact that I’d seen two guys naked and one had actually kissed me on the lips. “Yeah. I guess it would.”
    â€œCalvin’s bound to be in the hospital for a while, and even when he comes home, he’ll have to take it easy for several weeks.” Although Joe was ordinarily rather homely, his smile made him look downright sweet. “Think you could stick around until he gets better? We’d pay you, of course. I’m positive Angela would agree to it.”
    I returned my attention to the omelet, adding a slice of cheese before folding it and transferring it to my plate. “I dunno… I’d have to think about it.”
    â€œNo problem. Let me know if you have any questions.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Joe sauntered off to join the other men in the mess hall.
    Six cowboys. Six healthy, hungry cowboys who probably weren’t terribly picky about what they ate. Most people would consider that work. To me, it sounded like a dream vacation. I might change my mind after a week or two, but still …
    I had no plans—nowhere else I truly wanted to go. Nothing I absolutely had to do. These guys needed me to cook for them, and I’d already moved in—sort of. I might even get paid.
    Or laid…
    I carried my plate into the mess hall. Taking a seat next to Nick, I reached for the toast just as Dean handed me the platter. Sonny got up and poured me a cup of coffee