Heart of Fire: a Moonbound World series (Witches of Whitewood Book 1) (7 page)

J
amie wandered
from her tent the next morning, following the decadent, smoky scent that woke her. It was likely she looked a fright, but her growling stomach and the promise of Kyle’s cooking put her morning routine on fast-forward.

She watched the group as they devoured heavy plates of meat, eggs, and potatoes.
Did it taste as good as it smelled?

Kyle was nowhere to be found, although the buffet was set up much as it had been the previous night.

She selected small helpings from each of the chafing dishes, found a seat at one of the empty tables, and surveyed her plate. The potatoes were crispy and golden, sliced into long, thin segments, and flecked with some fresh-cut herbs. When she put a forkful in her mouth, Jamie had to stop and breathe. She’d never tasted a breakfast potato quite like that. The crunchy outer layer hid a beautiful softness that melted over her tongue like butter. There may have been butter involved.

“Is it that bad?” Kyle’s voice broke her concentration just as she was about to search for the names of the herbs he’d used.

She opened her eyes. “It’s not bad.”

He edged into the seat across the tiny table, his hands resting not far from her plate.

Jamie had a thing for hands, and Kyle’s were...perfect. Strong and defined with long, blunt fingers. She remembered the feel of those hands on her and swallowed.

“You looked like you were about to spit it out.”

She grabbed the paper cup near her plate and gulped down the freshly-squeezed orange juice.
Good God, Brady had made a good call hiring this one.
Although, a few days on the trail and she’d gain ten pounds.

“I was trying to figure out what you put on the potatoes.” Jamie pushed another bite into her mouth and paused. “I mean, my mom is the cook in our house. But this is gorgeous.”

“That’s mostly the butter. And if I could get Kerrigold, they would be even better.” He reached across the table and grabbed a link of sausage. It was misshapen, and the casing had split in a couple of places.

He couldn’t possibly have made the sausage by hand this morning.

“It’s the spice I can’t place.”

Kyle bit the end of the sausage, and the tiny snap sent liquid spilling over his mouth.

Jamie wanted to wipe her thumb across his lips. Or her tongue.

“It’s not a spice,” he said. “It’s just rosemary.”

“Just rosemary?” She sampled the potatoes again and nodded. “Well, I don’t think I could’ve picked that out of a lineup. But it’s delicious.”

“I hope so.” He stuffed the rest of the sausage in his mouth.

“Don’t be so humble.” Jamie laughed and pushed the sausage around on her plate. “I thought chefs were supposed to be arrogant.”

“Just give me some time.” He leaned forward and winked.

Her heart flipped, and she swallowed a breath. The slant of his body into her space and the look of complete relaxation on his face made that breath more difficult than she wanted to let herself admit. “To get arrogant?”

“You keep complimenting me, and I’ll have a huge ego.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She touched her forehead and looked away, scanning the tables around them and looking for some reason to get away. Unfortunately, no one met her gaze and she still had a plate full of food.
No explainable escape.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a moment.” She tried to shake it off.

Kyle’s fingers climbed across the table toward her plate. “How’s your head?”

“It’s been better.” Jamie forked a potato and lifted it to her lips, savoring the rich scent before she ate it. “But I slept okay.”

At the word
slept
, his eyes darkened. The quick shift in his demeanor reminded her of what’d happened before she “slept okay.” Kyle’s kisses, his caress, his open desire.

Maybe it’d been the bump on the head. Maybe the fact that it felt like he’d saved her life. Maybe it was his cooking. But this morning, she was thinking so much more clearly. Distance was a good thing.

“Are you going to eat that sausage?” Kyle’s hand flashed into her field of vision, as though he were trying to distract her.

“Go ahead.”

He picked up another uneven link and popped it in his mouth. The same juice oozed around his lips, only this time, his tongue snaked out to catch it and Jamie caught herself gaping and remembering.

“You didn’t make the sausage this morning, did you?”

He nodded. “It’s not as good as I usually make it, but I was missing a few spices. I’ll have to put in an order when I get back to the ranch. Or maybe go into Denver myself. I don’t need much. Your mom gave me some blends, but…I don’t know. I have a hard time using blends when I don’t know what’s in them.”

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. We’re supposed to use those blends when we cook on the trail. Mom sells them at the ranch to people so they can take them home as a memory of the trail.” She picked up one of the sausages and bit down. The smoky, earthy scent exploded over her tongue.

“Yeah, your mom stopped by last night to tell me that.” Kyle pressed his big hands into the wood of the tabletop. “I know she wants me to use them, but…”

“You should use them.” Jamie drained the last of her orange juice. “It’s part of the job to use the products.”

His lips were tight and he cocked his head to one side. “Okay, Bobby Flay.”

Jamie swallowed just as she was about to laugh, and it came out somewhere between a choke and a cough. Kyle’s face wrinkled in concern, and he slid into the chair next to her, pounded on her back, and laid his other hand on hers.

Heat sliced through her body where their skin touched, and she tried to right her breathing. She shrugged his hands away. “I’m okay. Just needed to get some food in my stomach is all.”

She picked up her plate and walked between the tables and back toward the wagon. Memories of his hands on her would plague her all day if she didn’t put a stop to the emotions that kept welling up inside.

I can’t let him get to me.

She had to keep reminding herself that he was just another sweet-talking guy. Just another man who wanted something from her. She had to be more guarded.

Her behavior at the campfire had been out of character—she’d given in to her lust and forgotten her better judgment. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. That mistake had been what landed her back home, working for her brother, in the first place.

After disposing of her plate, she headed back down toward the river and tried to shake the feeling that Kyle was following her. And the feeling that she wanted him to.

* * *

W
hen the group
left for the first trail ride, Kyle threw himself into the preparations for their return meal. Since they’d eaten a late breakfast and taken sandwiches on the ride, a late-in-the-day return would do him well.

Jamie had left him a list of chores, which he quickly finished, and he set into his prep cook mentality. He made more sausage for the following morning, peeled and sliced potatoes for that night, made custard to chill for the crème brûlée, built a makeshift smoker, and at about noon, started smoking the ribs for dinner.

Being alone in the outdoor kitchen gave him a sense of normalcy again, as though he were back in his restaurant in Denver. He’d rather not think about someone else in his restaurant, using his equipment, re-training his staff, erasing Kyle from the collective foodie unconscious.

But routine in the kitchen calmed him. Made him almost believe nothing had changed. He was still the executive chef. Still in charge of menu and concept. Still relevant. Except, even if he had been back in
normal
, he’d never have come to the Banfield ranch. And met Jamie.

Jamie. Who practically dominated his every thought. She had been incomparable in her beauty, the haze of desire all around her. There had been real lust there. Not just curiosity. There was something under her surface, and he wanted to peel it all away and just look at her.

While he was finishing the risotto, she came loping down the pathway from the camp. He allowed himself the luxury of a good stare and let a slow smile take his lips. Damn, she looked good.

Those tight-fitting jeans, accentuating her long legs, topped off by a fitted gray shirt that left little to his imagination when it came to those perky tits of hers. The girl could pull off the cowgirl look better than any woman he’d ever seen.

Kyle didn’t get a smile in return, and something sank hard in his stomach when she avoided his gaze.

“How long till dinner?” she asked.

“That depends.”

Jamie came all the way into the tent and leaned against the portable butcher block, as far away from him as she could be, but still be under the kitchen canvas. She didn’t meet his eyes, still didn’t smile.
Dammit, where’s the Jamie from last night?

“What does it depend on?”

On the crest of the trail, a few more people appeared, and she turned back to look at them. Her jaw tightened.

“When you’d like to eat.” Kyle set his knife on the wood cutting board. “The earliest I can be ready is about fifteen minutes. But I can keep it hot for another thirty without too much trouble. And an hour with some trouble, but the risotto will be clumpy.”

“I left the guys brushing down the horses for the night.” She thumbed back toward the corral, and her face soured again.

Kyle looked up finally and saw Lana’s silhouette stopped in the middle of the trail. Something was up there, and he was tempted to ask about it. But he couldn’t afford to seem too interested in his ex. “So fifteen will be okay?”

“Sure.” Her gaze stayed glued to his ex-wife as she and another girl walked past the kitchen tent to the water well.

Lana did a good job of avoiding Kyle as well, but Jamie could have been a laser, her attention was so precise.

He reached for her. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head, backing away from his touch, and a long strand of hair fell in front of her face.

Kyle instinctively reached and Jamie grabbed the loose hair, backing up a couple of steps and tucking it behind one ear. His arm dropped away and he turned back to the cutting board.

She cleared her throat. “We had a long day with that one.”

“Lana?”

“Yup. I tried to get them to pair off for the trail ride, and she didn’t like the guy she was with, so she complained about it all day. How she was the customer.” Jamie sighed. “I told her part of the service was that they were paired by the staff. And she made some comment about—”

A loud ringing sounded that reminded him of one of those old rotary phones his grandma owned. He looked around, forgetting for a moment they were in the middle of nowhere.

Jamie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Whatever she saw on the readout made her whole face into a wrinkle. “I’ve gotta take this.” She backed out of the kitchen tent and headed up the trail to the camp. The phone continued ringing until he couldn’t see her anymore, then it stopped.

Kyle began chopping scallions, wondering who was on the other end of that call and why Jamie’s hot and cold routine still managed to draw him in.

“You’ve got it bad for that girl, don’t you, Kyle?” Lana’s voice woke him from his thoughts of Jamie like a sluice of cold water. She leaned through the door, her long blonde hair wafting around her face.

“Mind your business.”

“You look at her like she’s the only girl on the planet.” She stepped toward him, rocking her hips while she walked, like some runway model. Where she’d learned that trick was beyond him, but it made her appear to try too hard.

Cuz she did.

“I told you. Mind your business.” He sprinkled scallions over the steaming rice and tried not to look at her, encourage her, or even acknowledge her.

“You used to look at me like that, y’know.” Lana was close now, almost touching him. “Do you remember that?”

Kyle stopped his rhythmic stirring and regretted his curiosity before he even opened his mouth. “So, you’re nostalgic, now. Huh.”

She sighed and leaned against him. The pressure of her body was at once familiar and strange. They hadn’t really touched in more than a year, and her scent was a thing of the past. Instead, he sniffed in the rich, earthy smell of his mushroom risotto.

“I miss you, Kyle.” Her hand stole up to his shoulder and stroked his bicep.

He rolled his eyes and ignored her. “Oh. Now, you miss me?”

She smacked his arm. “Ass.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.” Lana’s lithe fingers grasped him above the elbow and yanked him back, but he held his ground.

“I doubt that very much.” Kyle set the spoon down, taking a step back to break the contact. “Let me guess.” He crossed his arms and stared her down. “You got paired up with some guy today you didn’t like, and now Paul’s gone, and you’re looking for a distraction from your boredom.”

She mimicked his posture and narrowed her eyes. “That’s not true.”

“I know it is. I just talked to Jamie.”

“She’s setting you against me.”

He laughed and turned back to his risotto, pulling another ladle of stock into the pot. “She didn’t have to turn me against you, La-La. You did that all by yourself.”