Page 40 of Roping the Rodeo Queen
"Speaking of your ass..."I let my hand drift lower on her back as I whisper in her ear, "Been too long since we knocked boots.Could we sneak away to that place I showed you?The one at the far end of the acreage."
Her lips form a knowing smile."Two smart people like us can make that happen for sure."
But right now, it's time to paste on our professional smiles and give the press what they want.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Making It Real
After two months as reality stars, Jo and I declared that we need a break to rest and refresh ourselves.We never did get around to that naughty interlude on the far side of the ranch.Today, we're in the kitchen at Jo's family homestead---about to show off our cooking skills for the Callahans.A passel of relatives and neighbors have lined up outside to watch our show live on a movie-theater size screen.
Jo adjusts her apron---a frilly pink monstrosity that clashes spectacularly with her usual no-nonsense style---and shoots me a look that could melt steel.
"I still can't believe you agreed to this cooking challenge, Clay."She ties the apron strings with more ferocity than seems necessary.I swear her nostrils flared too, and her gaze has gone flinty.
"Hey, you're the one who said we needed good publicity after that unfortunate incident with the mechanical bull," I remind her, pulling on my own apron.Mine's got little cowboys printed all over it, which somehow makes me feel less masculine.
The cameras are already rolling, and I can hear the crowd outside whooping it up.Mrs.Callahan insisted on turning this into a proper neighborhood event, complete with betting pools on whether we'll burn down the kitchen or actually produce something edible.
"Welcome back to 'Roping Hearts'," our host announces.Her blindingly white smile borders on being radioactive under the kitchen lights."I'm, Daphne Clark.And today we're visiting the gorgeous Callahan family ranch where our lovebirds will be attempting to cook a sumptuous meal for Jo's family and neighbors right here in Colorado!"
Jo's jaw clenches, and I can practically feel the waves of irritation rolling off her.She hates being called a lovebird almost as much as she hates that ridiculous apron.
"So, what's on the menu today?"our host continues, gesturing dramatically at the ingredients spread across the massive farmhouse table.It's a prop, of course.The Callahan's kitchen table wasn't rustic enough, according to Daphne.
"Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans," Jo says, her TV smile firmly in place despite the murder in her eyes.Our contract never mentioned cooking."It's a family recipe, Daphne."
I lean against the counter, trying to seem casual while, internally, I'm panicking.The closest I've come to cooking chicken fried steak was ordering it at truck stops.But Jo doesn't know that, and I intend to keep it that way.She's already annoyed enough with me after I accidentally volunteered us for this culinary spectacle.
"Family recipe, huh?"I whisper as Daphne moves to interview Jo's grandmother about the dish's heritage."You didn't mention that part."
"Because it wasn't relevant until you got us into this mess," Jo hisses back through her clenched teeth, her smile never faltering for the cameras."Just follow my lead and try not to set anything on fire."
"I resent that implication."But my confidence wavers when Jo hands me a meat mallet."What exactly am I supposed to do with this?"
"Tenderize the steak, cowboy."She smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort."Unless that's too complicated for your pretty little head to fathom."
I growl under my breath.Seriously, I do.Then I take the mallet, weighing it in my hand like it's a foreign object that mysteriously landed in the kitchen."I'll have you know I've handled plenty of tools in my day."
"Is that right?"Jo arches an eyebrow, her sarcastic expression somehow turning me on.This is foreplay for us these days.
"Watch and learn, Rodeo Queen."I position the meat on the cutting board and bring the mallet down with more force than necessary.The resultingthwackechoes through the kitchen, and a piece of raw steak flies off the counter.
Daphne's cameraman zooms in just as I scramble to retrieve the steak from the floor.
"Five-second rule?"I offer, shrugging my shoulders.
Jo rolls her eyes but there's a hint of amusement there."Not on national television, genius."She slides a fresh piece of steak my way."Try again.Gently this time."
I approach the meat cautiously while Jo efficiently dices onions, her knife moving in a practiced rhythm that makes me feel even more incompetent.She's clearly done this a thousand times, while I'm over here treating a piece of beef like it might explode.
"You know," I mutter, giving the steak another tentative tap, "this would be easier if you'd mentioned your grandmother was watching."
Through the window, I can see Grandma Callahan perched in her lawn chair, arms crossed, studying my technique with the intensity of a rodeo judge.Her expression suggests she's already marked me down several points.
"Scared of a little old lady?"Jo's knife never pauses as she speaks, and bits of onion transform into perfectly uniform pieces.
I squint at Jo."That 'little old lady' looks like she could take me in a fair fight."
