Page 10 of Cowboys & Hot Sauce
"Shouldn't you be manning the information booth?" I asked, adjusting my hat to block the rising sun.
"Nah, got Farrah Graham covering for me this morning." He sidled up beside me, eyeing the dunking booth with amusement. "So, word around the fairgrounds is that you and Scarlet Landry are quite the item."
I busied myself with checking the water level in the tank. "News travels fast."
"Like wildfire." Rhett leaned against the booth frame. "Especially when it involves the most buttoned-up Tate brother and Sweetwater's famous wild child. Gotta say, I'm impressed. Didn't think you had it in you."
"Had what in me?" I kept my voice neutral, though my pulse quickened. Scarlet would arrive any minute, and I wasn't sure I wanted Rhett interrogating me when she did.
"The guts to actually ask her out." He grinned. "How long have you been carrying a torch for her? Since high school, right? All those 'tutoring sessions'?"
Heat rose to my face that had nothing to do with the Texas sun. "It wasn't like that."
"Sure it wasn't," Rhett chuckled. "So how'd this finally happen? Last I heard, she was running that food truck all over Houston."
I ran a hand along the back of my neck, mentally rehearsing the story Scarlet and I had practiced. "We ran into each other at the Cinco de Mayo festival in San Antonio about three months ago. I was picking up equipment for Weston's dogs, and she had her food truck there. We reconnected at the Riverwalk, spent the weekend catching up."
"Three months?" Rhett whistled. "And you're just now letting the family know? That's cold, brother."
"We've been taking it slow," I said, focusing on adjusting the target arm. "With her in Houston and me here, it's mostly been video calls. Weekend visits when we can manage it."
Rhett eyed me skeptically. "Video calls, huh? You hate video calls. You wouldn't even FaceTime Grayson when he was asking about those tax forms last month."
"This is different," I muttered.
"I'll say." He pushed off from the booth and circled around me. "So what's the real story? Because something doesn't add up."
"Rhett—"
"Burke!"
I'd never been so grateful to hear Scarlet's voice. She approached with a bright smile, carrying a large basket and a cardboard tray of coffee cups. The morning sunlight caught in her strawberry blonde hair, which today was styled in a loose braid adorned with a colorful bandana. She wore a vintage t-shirt knotted at the waist over high-waisted denim shorts and customized cowboy boots painted with flames matching her food truck.
"Saved by the bell," Rhett murmured with a knowing smirk.
Scarlet reached us, setting down her parcels on a nearby table. "Morning, boys. I come bearing gifts."
"Scarlet Landry," Rhett said, his charm cranking up several notches. "Looking as beautiful as ever."
She laughed, the sound carrying across the fairgrounds like wind chimes. "And you're still full of it, Rhett Tate." She handed each of us a coffee cup. "One black for Burke, and a couple more with enough cream and sugar to make a dentistcry. I do like to make the folks holding the drills work for their money."
I couldn't help but smile.
"What's in the basket?" Rhett asked, peering at it with undisguised interest.
Scarlet opened it with a flourish. "Blueberry scones with lemon glaze, fresh strawberries, and homemade honey butter."
Inside were golden-brown scones, still warm judging by the steam rising from them, alongside a container of glistening strawberries and a small jar of what must be the honey butter.
"You made these?" I asked, accepting a scone she offered.
"Couldn't sleep last night," she admitted, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as her gaze met mine. "Too much excitement, I guess."
I nodded, understanding completely. I'd barely slept either, my mind calculating and recalculating every moment of the family dinner—the way she'd looked in that green dress, how natural it felt to stand beside her, the almost-moment in the kitchen when I'd nearly leaned in to kiss her.
"These are incredible," Rhett mumbled through a mouthful of scone. "Seriously, do you have another sister who's single and can cook like this?"
"Well, shoot." Rhett grabbed another scone, scattering crumbs down his shirt. "Guess I'll have to keep lookin'. Though I'm sure the right gal will come along when I'm good and ready." He winked. "Not all of us are in a hurry to settle down."
