Page 5 of Heating Up (Nugget)
After his shower, he checked his phone; an exercise in futility, but he couldn’t help himself. It was four in the morning and he needed to get at least a couple of hours of sleep. Sloane had turned down the blanket on his bed; all that was missing was a little chocolate. Wow, she was getting married. The first of the McBride kids to take the plunge. Arron, the second oldest after Aidan, was always off-and-on with his girlfriend, and Shane, the youngest of the boys, was a manwhore. It had been Aidan who everyone had expected to settle down, not the baby of the family.
Good for Sloane, he thought as he slipped off to sleep. She’d snagged herself a good man. And they would take good care of each other.
Too soon, sunlight filtered into his room. “Christ, morning already?” he muttered to himself, covering his eyes with his arm.
“Aidan.” Brady knocked on the door. “Sloane said you need to get out early. You want an omelet?”
He probably should make his own breakfast, or grab something in town, and not take advantage, but Brady seemed to like cooking for company and his food was out of this world. “If it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
“Okay, I’ll be right out.”
He took another quick shower just to wake up and dressed. By the time he made it to the kitchen, Brady had all kinds of things popping on that mammoth range of his. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the island.
“You working today?” He watched as Brady fried up a pan of bacon.
“Yep. I’ve gotta streamline some things at Gold Mountain.” He referred to the nearby resort that was part of the hotel group where Brady was executive chef. “At the end of the week I have to go to headquarters in San Francisco. Sloane’s planning to take a few comp days and come with me.”
“You miss cooking at the Lumber Baron?”
“I’m still in charge of the kitchen there,” Brady said. “Occasionally, I’ll fill in, test a few recipes. And of course orchestrate the food for the gigs we have with Lucky’s cowboy camp.”
“Hey, I hear congratulations are in order.”
Brady grinned. “We’re getting the ring in San Francisco. You wanna be best man?”
“Seriously?” Aidan reeled, a little stunned. It wasn’t like Brady knew him that well, but Aidan supposed it was to make Sloane happy. Which put another check in Brady’s box. “Of course. I’d be honored.”
Brady grinned again and served Aidan an omelet big enough to feed two people. “Dig in before it gets cold. Sloane said Dana’s house is a goner.”
“Afraid so.” Aidan glanced at the clock. He had to get a move on. Luckily, he ate fast.
“That’s too bad. I think she’s on her own here.”
Aidan got that impression too, although she seemed to have people who cared about her. “I hope she has a good, honest contractor.”
“To rebuild or for insurance purposes?”
“For both, depending on what she wants to do.”
“I’m betting she wants to rebuild. An empty residential lot in Nugget isn’t worth a whole lot, not like if it had a house on it.”
Aidan shoved a few more bites into his mouth before taking his plate to the sink. “I’m supposed to be at Nugget Realty and Associates in fifteen minutes. You know where it is?”
“Main Street. Across from the Nugget Market. You better head out; it’ll take fifteen minutes to get there.”
It actually took twelve. This wasn’t Chicago during rush hour. He locked up his truck—which he probably didn’t need to do, but old habits died hard—and was halfway to the door when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen and then the time. Apparently, Sue wanted to have their heart-to-heart two minutes before his appointment.
He’d waited seven weeks, she could wait an hour.
Chapter 2
The jeans were a little snugger than Dana was used to. She hoped that with a couple of hours of wear they’d stretch. But the yellow sleeveless blouse fit beautifully and was perfect for the heat.
At eight in the morning, the front desk had called, saying there were packages for her in the lobby and someone would bring them up. She’d opened the door to find a pile of shopping bags filled with clothes, shoes, boots, underwear, even a few silky scarves. Brand new, all from Nugget Farm Supply.
She barely knew the owners, Grace and Earl Miller, and had only been in the feedstore a handful of times. Yet, Grace—she presumed it was Grace—knew all her sizes. And her taste. Because the things she’d sent were adorable. After spreading out everything on the bed, she’d sat on the floor and cried. No one had ever been this thoughtful. No one. And she couldn’t imagine how she would ever return their kindness.
