Page 8 of Cowboys & Hot Sauce
Emma laughed, extending her hand to Burke. "I'm Emma. I've heard so many Scarlet stories from Ty, but somehow he missed that you two were dating."
"That's because I didn't know," Tyson said, studying us with amused suspicion. "Last I heard, you were running your food truck all over Houston."
"Plans change," I said, squeezing Burke's hand. "I'm looking at moving back to Sweetwater permanently."
MeeMaw's lips pursed, though she remained silent.
"Well, isn't this a nice surprise," Mom said, ushering everyone toward the dining room. "Dinner's ready, and the chicken won't wait."
The dinner table groaned under the weight of the grilled chicken with Daddy’s secret spice rub, Mom's black-eyed peas, fresh corn on the cob, fried okra, and MeeMaw's famous buttermilk biscuits. I sat beside Burke, the warmth of his leg alongside mine each time he shifted made concentrating on my chicken nearly impossible.
"Burke," MeeMaw said once everyone was served, "tell me about your brothers. I heard Grayson married that lovely newcomer, Paige. And Weston—is he still showing those Blue Heelers of his?"
Burke dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Yes, ma'am. Grayson and Paige are doing great, and Weston and Shelby arestill going strong. She’s the new meteorologist now on channel 5."
"That's wonderful," Mom said, passing the biscuits. "So lovely to see how all of Sweetwater's children are growing up and starting their own families. It's all a mother could want—to see her children happy and surrounded by love."
Burke's arm settled around the back of my chair, a casual touch that felt both rehearsed and oddly right. "Scarlet's food truck has been doing amazingly well. Have you tried her Texas Tornado sauce yet? It's gaining quite a following."
I felt my cheeks warm under his praise. "You're biased."
"Maybe," he admitted, his gaze holding mine. "But that doesn't make it any less true."
There was something in his expression—a warmth, a tenderness—that made me wonder if we were still pretending. I forced myself to look away, finding MeeMaw taking in this interaction with interest.
"This chicken is incredible," Burke remarked, breaking the moment. "That spice rub is something special. Now I see where Scarlet gets her talent for flavor combinations."
Daddy chuckled. "Don't let Lurline hear you say that. I learned everything about seasoning from her."
"It's always nice when families can stick together," MeeMaw observed, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Traditions passed down, knowledge shared." She turned to me. "Speaking of which, Scarlet, what exactly are your plans now that you're considering moving back? That food truck of yours seems rather... mobile."
The question dangled between us, weighted with years of history. The implication was clear: she still didn't trust me to stay.
"Actually," I said, setting down my fork, "I've entered my Texas Tornado sauce in the hot sauce competition at the festival. First prize is five thousand dollars, which would be a solid investment toward expanding Smokin' Lurline's to offer product lines, including bottled sauces and spice jars." I met her gaze directly. "Not changing the fare like Bethany Sue wants to but building on what makes it special—your recipes, your techniques, but adding more signature products for build on the existing brand."
MeeMaw's mouth twitched at one corner. "Hmm," she said, in that tone that could wither green tomatoes on the vine or coax them to ripen overnight, depending on which way the wind was blowing.
"That sounds like a solid business plan," Burke interjected smoothly. "Speaking of business, I've been considering branching out myself."
"Oh?" My mom looked interested. "Doing what?"
"Financial consulting for small businesses here in Sweetwater," Burke explained. "The ranch is doing well enough that I have time to help other local businesses with their bookkeeping, tax planning, that sort of thing. I see a real need for it, especially with family businesses that might not have the resources for full-time financial staff."
"Now that's using your noodle," Daddy gave a quick bob of his head approvingly. "I could use someone like that for the repair shop. Never was good with those spreadsheets and quarterly whatchamacallits."
"Tax filings," Burke supplied with a smile. "I'd be happy to take a look at your books sometime."
I considered Burke's expression, wondering if this was part of our act or something he'd actually been considering. Theway he spoke about it—with genuine enthusiasm and specific details—made me think it might be real.
After dessert—Mom's peach cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream—Burke and I ended up alone in the kitchen. The others had moved to the living room, Daddy eager to show Emma and Tyson photos from their recent fishing trip.
"Thanks for doing this," I said quietly, rinsing dessert plates. "My family can be a lot."
Burke took a plate from my hands, drying it carefully with a blue-and-white checkered dishcloth. "I like your family. Always have."
"Even MeeMaw and her twenty questions?"
His lips quirked up. "Especially MeeMaw. She loves you, Scarlet. That's why she's tough on you."
