Stud in Texas (Rugged and Risque 4)

Then she added, “My mama had all these recipes in a box that her mama had given her, and she never even glanced at them. I know she’d studied them at one point, but after that, she decided how to measure or change up the ingredients, and made all of those recipes her own, adding the notations to the cards so that I’d know what modifications she preferred—and encouraging me to try my own alternatives. I envied how talented she was.”

“A gift she passed onto you.”

Sky shook her head. “I don’t know about that. All I know is that my whole life, people have thought I should be a celebrity. And all I ever wanted was to figure out how to immortalize those recipes my gramma left us. I never intentionally sought fame and fortune. I capitalized on my God-given talents, sure. But really, I was just hoping I could make enough money to open a little patisserie on Main Street. Or put together a cookbook that I could submit to a publisher.”

Sam said, “You could do both.”

“I might. If I can just get my life straightened out.”

He tucked a curl behind her ear. “You really think you saw the ex’s car tonight?”

She sighed. “Maybe not. But in the back of my head, I keep thinking the sudden golden silence is too good to be true.”

“You have a point. Try to get some sleep, though.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”

In the morning, Sky felt refreshed from another sound slumber. Between Sam wearing her out with his sinful lovemaking and the fact that she truly did feel safe with him, she was finally catching up on some much-needed rest.

He cooked breakfast again while she set plates and silverware on the counter. They’d showered together and she wore one of his T-shirts and tied her hair in a low ponytail over a shoulder.

Though she felt relatively at ease, she couldn’t help but check her phone to see if her bliss was about to be shattered. She retrieved it from the pocket of her jeans, draped over the chair in Sam’s room, and scrolled through the missed call log as she returned to the kitchen where Sam flipped pancakes at the stove.

“Hmm, that’s odd,” she said.

He glanced at her over a bare shoulder. He’d only slipped on his Levi’s and he was a vision of rugged sexiness with his sinewy back and tanned skin. But her stomach clenched, eclipsing the desire that flared at the sight of him.

“What is it?” he asked, concern etched on his chiseled-to-perfection face.

“Five calls from my friend Lucy at the dance hall. All first thing this morning. Must be some sort of wedding cake emergency in Luckenbach.”

She called Lucy back. “Hey, there. It’s Sky,” she said when the line connected.

“Oh sweet Jesus. I have been worried sick about you.”

Sky’s brow furrowed. Sam piled the pancakes on a plate and joined her at the breakfast bar, his curious gaze on her.

She said into the phone, “What’s going on? I see you’ve been trying to reach me this morning. Wedding cake disaster?”

“No, it has nothing to do with the dance hall.” Lucy’s voice was filled with dread. “Lord, Sky. I’ve been going crazy, not being able to reach you and not knowing where you are.”

“I spent the night in Wilder.”

“I am so glad to hear that.”

“Lucy, what is going on?”

“Well,” she said in a more troubled tone. “It’s your trailer, honey. It caught fire.”

“What?” Sky sank onto a stool, shock gripping her soul. An ominous sensation snaked through her, making her shudder.

Lucy said, “The volunteer firefighters from Fredericksburg came out and they were blown away by how fast and furiously your trailer burned. Scorched some trees in the area too. They were worried about your whereabouts as well. Why, one of them said if you’d been asleep inside, you might not have been able to get out, the trailer went up in flames so quick.”

She blanched. Her blood ran cold. “Oh my God.”

Sam stepped toward her and gently gripped her upper arm. She was shaking.

“Honey,” Lucy continued, “they were real suspicious about the cause of the fire and did some looking around. They found a couple of containers that still had some gasoline in them. So they’re thinking it was intentional.”

“Arson?” She could barely get the word out.