Authors: Cat Johnson
He stifled a smile. It was pretty ironic, a fire in the firehouse. “But you didn’t. You were smart enough to use the extinguisher and put it out.”
“Maybe I’d make a good firefighter, because I sure as hell can’t cook.” She shook her head and plopped down on the stairs.
“We’re always looking for new recruits.” As if that wouldn’t be too distracting. Alexis next to him at work every day, and in the next bunk at night...
“Great. Thanks.” She rolled her eyes at his suggestion.
“Seriously, Alexis. The omelets you made looked great. You did that all on your own with no one to help. I’m very proud of you.” He lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. “So what do you want to learn for your next lesson?”
“You’re still willing to teach me after this?”
Oh, there was plenty he’d like to teach her, and only some of it involved cooking. “Of course. I told you, I don’t frighten easily.”
She hesitated. “I would like to learn how to make some hors d’oeuvres and appetizer-type things. Can you do that?”
The demand for hors d’oeuvres was not so big in the army or at the firehouse, but no need for her to know that. “Of course I can. I’m the appetizer king. I’m off tonight. Your place or mine?”
“Mine I guess. I have all this cooking stuff people have given me. Half of it’s in the boxes still. I guess I should learn how to use it.”
“Perfect. What time?” Yeah, he didn’t sound too anxious. Sure.
“Five-ish I guess?” She shrugged.
“Great.” Scott thrust his cell phone at her. “Put your number and address in the contact list.”
He tried to control his smile as she did.
Yeah, baby. Alexis’s apartment tonight
.
After Scott had watched Alexis drive away he ran up the stairs two at a time, his cell phone still clutched in his hand.
He blew into the dining room and came to a halt before the group of guys sitting at the table. “Anyone got a cookbook?”
Antonio glanced up. “Looks like you’ve done enough cooking already this morning judging by the smoke and the smoking hot girl in the kitchen.”
Scott braced himself for the inevitable teasing. He knew he couldn’t get away with having a girl in the firehouse, particularly one who’d almost burnt it down, without some ribbing. “Ha, ha. Okay everybody, get all your jabs in now because I have to come up with some recipes for hors d’oeuvres by tonight.”
“Hors d’oeuvres. What the hell for?” Troy looked up between bites of omelet.
“Because I’m giving a cooking lesson to the girl you just met. I’m going to her apartment tonight.”
“Well if this is how she cooks all the time, make sure she’s got smoke detectors with fresh batteries installed while you’re over there.” Still chewing and with his coffee mug clutched in one fist, Troy rose from his chair, walked toward the kitchen and returned with a book in his hand. He dumped it on the table in front of Scott. “There you go, Scotty. Gift from my sister two years ago. By the way, your girl’s omelets are pretty good.”
His girl.
Hopefully by tonight she would be. Scott glanced down at the book, which had obviously never even had its colorful and slightly dusty grease-coated cover cracked open in the two years it had sat in the firehouse kitchen. “
Lexi Cooper Cooks
. Never heard of her.” Scott started to flip through the pages.
“Sure you have. She’s the party planner working with the children’s hospital on the bachelor auction fundraiser.” Antonio snagged another piece of bacon off the tray.
“She’s the one? So it’s her fault I’ll be parading around half naked and getting auctioned off. Great. Can’t wait to meet her at her little pre-auction bachelor mixer cocktail party thing and tell her what I think about her ideas,” Troy grumbled.
Scott laughed, but had to be impressed. Judging by the photos, there were some pretty good-looking appetizers in the book. Nothing he couldn’t handle making. “Can I borrow this?”
Troy waved a hand absently. “Be my guest. What’s mine is yours, man.”
“Thanks.” Scott grabbed the last omelet and a few pieces of bacon, and settled in with the cookbook to make plans for his evening with Alexis.
Hopefully he’d work up to a dessert lesson next, maybe something involving whipped cream. His mind reeled with the possibilities as he flipped the book over to look in the index in the back…and stopped dead
There, smiling up at him from the back cover of the book, holding a whisk in one hand and a bowl in the other was his cooking student Alexis, only she was really Lexi Cooper, famous cookbook author.
“Scotty. What’s wrong, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Antonio frowned at him from across the table.
Scott swallowed and flipped the book over to hide the picture. “Nothing. Just can’t believe I have to make hors d’oeuvres.”
The question of the day—of the whole damn year—remained. Why the hell was he teaching Lexi Cooper, best selling cookbook author according to the book blurb, how to cook anything?
~ * ~
The doorbell rang at five minutes before five. Jeez. Scott must be anxious to get on with the lesson. Lexi was sure anxious to see him. She definitely approved of his hands-on cooking techniques. She had to admit in spite of the small fire, which she had put out, she really had the hang of making omelets now. She’d even tried making one at home and was able to actually eat it.
That was a step in the right direction. She’d had to break the brand new omelet pan that one of the cookware companies had sent her as a promotional gift out of its box first. But the eggs tasted great. Then she’d written an article about how to cook brunch for a dozen for her weekly lifestyle column. She’d thrown in a few tidbits about table linens and centerpieces and
viola
, she’d gone from firehouse to foo-foo in one swipe of her pen, or computer keyboard as it were. It had been a very productive day.
Now she was about to have an evening alone with Scott. Lexi flung open the door, excited to get right down to more lessons…and maybe a little something else too.
“Something you want to tell me?” Scott, in jeans now instead of his uniform pants but still in his T-shirt, braced himself against the doorframe with one hand. He held her cookbook in the other. Her own photo smiled back at her from the back cover.
Uh, oh. She swallowed hard as her heart sank. She took a step back. “You better come inside. This may take awhile to explain.”
Scott raised a brow. “Ya think?”
That figured. She finally found a guy she liked that by some miracle seemed to like her back, and she was even actually learning how to cook, and now it was all a big mess.
Lexi let out a loud huff of breath. “This is all Robert’s fault.”
“Who the hell is Robert? You got a husband too, on top of a best selling cookbook?” His dark brows rose. For the first time since she’d met him, his blue eyes didn’t look friendly.
“No. I’m not married. Robert is my agent.” She forced herself to look at him and found that at least Scott looked relieved at that revelation. Or maybe she just wanted him to look relieved that she was single.
He wasn’t as angry as he could have been, she supposed, considering she lied about who she was. He did look as if he was expecting a good explanation though. Good or not, the only thing she had to give was the truth.
Now that her hand was forced, Lexi felt almost relieved. No more hiding. No more lying. Of course, it meant her career might be over. She swallowed hard at that thought.
“Please. Have a seat.”
She may not be able to cook, but she was still a good hostess. She grabbed an open bottle of red wine from the counter, one she’d opened the day before. She’d been drinking a lot lately since the Chef Frederick hell had started. Lexi poured them both a glass. She handed one to Scott. The delicate stemmed wine glass looked ridiculous in his big hands.
“Sorry I don’t have any beer to offer you.” She perched on the edge of the chair opposite where Scott sat on the couch.
He laughed. “Oh, believe me, any alcohol right now would be fine…and an explanation.”
“You deserve an explanation.” Lexi nodded and took a bracing swallow of wine. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. It all started about three years ago…”
She told him about everything. Her evil boss and the blowout that led to her quitting the public relations firm. Her life-long desire to be a writer. The opportunity at the local paper for a weekly lifestyle columnist. Her agent Robert and the little white lie that had snowballed, leading to the cookbook offer, the television show and even more lies. She told him about Chef Frederick and the soufflés he’d thrown at her. Finally, she threw in that if she didn’t learn to cook in two weeks, there would be no food at the pre-bachelor auction fundraiser that the entire board of the children’s hospital would be attending along with other paying guests.
“So that’s it.” She concluded with a sigh and realized that this was the first time she’d breathed freely in weeks. No wonder she was crying over eggs lately, the stress had been overwhelming. “You know what? It feels really good to have that all off my chest. Although I’m going to be publicly ruined and humiliated and my career will be over. Maybe I will have to become a firewoman.”
Scott put his now empty glass on the table. He didn’t say a word as he rose and knelt in front of her chair. He took her hands in his large warm ones and squeezed. God, he was so sweet, even now, and she felt even worse for having deceived him.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. Do you think you can forgive me?”
He nodded. “I already have. And your career isn’t over. I won’t tell a soul about your secret.”
“Really? But what about the other guys from the kitchen this morning?”
Scott shook his head. “First of all, firefighters are a family and we stick together. No one will say a thing if I ask them not to. And FYI, no one else recognized you this morning, but they will eventually figure it out since you’re going to be hanging around with me a lot.”
“I am?” He wanted her around him
a lot
? Her spirits soared.
“Yeah, you are because I have an idea. I am going to help you save your fundraiser and your career.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He was too good to be true. “Why would you do that?”
Scott laughed. “Well, one reason is because I’m in that calendar and it will be really embarrassing if the fundraiser is a flop.”
Lexi’s mouth fell open. No wonder Ladder 3 was so familiar to her. She pulled her hands away from his and stood so fast she nearly toppled Scott on his butt.
“What are you doing?”
She glanced up from the pile of papers on her desk she’d begun to dig through. “Looking for my calendar.”
“Oh, great.” Looking resigned, Scott stood. “Is there more wine?”
“Help yourself.” She smiled and finally located her copy of the Hunky Firemen calendar. She stared at the glossy cover. There, standing in front of the firehouse she’d nearly burnt down just hours before, were a dozen shirtless, muscled firemen, including Scott and some guys she recognized as being the ones so worried about breakfast being ruined this morning.
Lexi flipped through the pages and finally came face to face with Scott, Mr. July, in all his glory. A shadow fell across the page, he was next to her in the flesh now.
He groaned. “It’s even more embarrassing than I imagined. Can we put that away and talk about my plan?”
She turned to smile at his distraught expression. “Sure.”
She’d have plenty of time later to gaze at him when she was alone. Was it inappropriate to hang a calendar next to the bed?
He pulled her over to the couch. “So, I’m thinking that since this is a firehouse fundraiser, and since firefighters are known for being good cooks, you could have all the cooking for the event done by actual firemen.”
She looked at him in shock. “That’s a brilliant idea. But will they do it? Will they help me?”
“Of course they will, once I ask them. We’ll go through your cookbook and choose some menu ideas. You have actually read your own cookbook, haven’t you?” He smirked.
“Yes, but we’re hoping to sell at least a hundred tickets to this event. Hopefully more.”
“So?” He didn’t look concerned, as opposed to Lexi.
“So, that’s a lot of hors d’oeuvres. It’s a lot of work.”
“No, it’s not.” He shook his head. “First of all, we can buy some of the stuff prepared. As for the rest, we’ve got four firehouses represented in that calendar. There are plenty of hands to do the last minute prep work and four kitchens to prepare it in. And really, only the guys from my house will know you can’t cook. All the rest will think having firemen cater the party is just another gimmick to sell tickets.”
“You’d lie to all those other firefighters for me?”
Scott gazed at her for a second, hesitating. She was asking a great deal of him. Could she really expect him to deceive his brother firefighters?
“Outright lie, no, but I won’t have to. I’m going to coach you and you’re going to learn to cook, so by the fundraiser there will be no need to lie. It’ll be great press to have the firemen do the cooking instead of you. That’s all they need to know.”