Cooking Up Trouble

By Lenora Worth

Can sweet and spicy make for a delicious pairing?

When barbecue food truck owner Holt Collins caters a wedding at the romantic wedding venue Falling Blossoms, he meets a woman who throws him for a loop. She may be gorgeous, but they clash immediately. He did however love the venue and makes an appointment to show it to his fiancée, only to receive a break-up text.

Devastated, Holt spends a few days trying to figure out what went wrong and what to do next. He decides to grab a bite at a local cafe, unaware that it is owned by Kayla Burton. After telling Kayla he’s no longer engaged, he later finds her kitchen in crisis and Kayla desperate for help, but unwilling to ask. He steps in and saves the day, but she hates giving up control of her kitchen, much less her heart. She’s attracted, but he’s just been jilted. Is this a rebound fling or fate working its magic?

Can a cupcake café owner find true love with Mr. Hot Holt Barbecue?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: Sep 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781951190231

Lenora Worth

Lenora Worth writes for Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense. She is a Carol Award finalist and a New York Times, USA Today, and PW bestselling author. She writes Southern stories set in places she loves such as Georgia, Texas, Louisiana, and Florida. Lenora is married and has two grown children and now lives near the ocean in the Panhandle of Florida. She loves reading, shoe shopping, long walks on the beach, mojitoes and road trips.

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Author

Chapter One

"He’s back." Kayla Burton held her phone between her shoulder and ear while she scanned her laptop screen. All around her, the Falling Waters Café hummed with customers ordering coffee and baked goods. The perfect early fall weather had brought people out and about to stroll through the Hill Country. Strolling made people thirsty and hungry, so she welcomed the pleasant weather.

She’d been having a good morning until he’d walked in.

Who’s back? Mona Perez asked. That plumber you went ’round and ’round with last week?

No, he fixed the dishwasher, so we’re on speaking terms again, Kayla replied while she smiled at customers and checked the screen for supplies. It’s that annoying Hog Heaven Man.

Mona chuckled in her sultry way. Oh, you mean Holt Collins—the man who got under your skin last spring at the Johnsons’ anniversary party? I loved his brisket tacos so much. Did he bring his barbecue truck? Please tell me yes. Mona had a point. Hog Heaven Barbecue outranked every other joint in the Hill Country, but Kayla wasn’t ready to shout that to the world.

No, silly. He’s back without his truck to look over Falling Blossoms now that the renovations are almost done. I’m guessing he still wants to get married here.

The big Victorian mansion in the center of Blossom, Texas, had undergone some major updates and a complete remodel since spring. The owner and Kayla and Mona’s best friend, Sarina Gabriel, planned to marry Drake Dunmore there in a few weeks. Drake had come to town to buy Falling Blossoms so Dunmore Developments could build swanky condos on the vast property. Instead, Sarina had decided to keep the estate and the man. Drake had started renovations almost immediately after he’d proposed to Sarina. The mansion had been given a facelift, and now the house was on the Texas Historical Commission as a historical site.

A happy ending for all.

Did he bring his fiancée? Mona asked, bringing Kayla back to Holt Collins and her own ringless finger and pathetic love life. Because things work that way, you know. They both need to be here, and you’d think she’d be excited to come now that the house is almost finished with renovations.

No, she’s not with him—probably meeting him here for the weekend. Only, he’s been sitting in the corner staring at his phone for ten minutes. I think he might have turned to stone.

Has he spoken to you?

No, not a word. Not even to tell me how to scramble eggs.

Go freshen his coffee and say something snarky. That’ll do the trick.

You’re right, Kayla said, her gaze moving over the frowning man in the corner. His hair was a hot mess of curls, and he looked different. Frazzled but hunky. I’ll see if I can irritate him back to life. Then, she whispered, By the way, he has a beard going on. Makes him look even scruffier.

A long beard or a thick beard?

A five o’clock shadow kind of beard, Kayla replied. As if he forgot to shave. Just enough to make him mysterious. She didn’t dare tell Mona she liked the beard. A lot.

When she’d been forced to co-cater with Holt Collins at the last minute during the event earlier this year, Kayla had disliked him on sight. Despite being too handsome for his own good, the man did know his barbecue. He had a cult following in San Antonio, and he’d come highly recommended by Drake Dunmore, whom she had also hated on sight. Until he’d fallen for her friend, and he’d proven himself worthy.

She had issues with good-looking strangers.

Especially the cooking kind.

But Holt Collins had topped the cake with his Texas-sized ego and enough swagger to cause an earthquake of feminine woe. For some reason, Kayla stopped now and then to not so fondly remember how they’d argued about everything from cilantro—she hated it, and he loved it—to Tex-Mex to filet mignon and New York cheesecake. But he’d also talked about his girlfriend, and he’d stayed on the phone with the woman a lot. Apparently, his woman wasn’t sure where they should get married.

He, however, liked Blossom and the Falling Blossoms Inn as a venue. Maybe because his friend Drake had been so impressed he’d decided to save it and fall in love with her friend.

Kayla didn’t want to think about a man who was so unavailable, but there he was, sitting in the corner like a marble Adonis waiting to be brought back to life. It would be rude to ignore him since they were both in the food business, and they’d actually worked together that one time.

She didn’t know why he got to her. Did she resent him and his success, or did his presence bring back bad memories for her? Probably both.

Maybe she resented the stormy-eyed chef because he’d traveled all over the world, and he’d learned from the best of the best. He’d even worked in New York City. All the things she’d wanted to do and more, but she’d given all of that up to come home to Blossom and take over the family business. Falling Waters Café was thriving now, thanks to her hard work and to Sarina coming home to improve on Falling Blossoms Inn. The inn worked in conjunction with her café and Mona’s Falling Leaves Boutique. They were booked solid through Christmas, and Kayla would be catering a lot of the bookings. She had big plans to expand the catering section of the restaurant, but that would have to wait. It would involve a big loan from her friendly Blossom bank.

So why had Mr. Hog Heaven shown up to ruin her good mood? He’d walked in thirty minutes ago to ask her assistant Cate Berkshire for a big cup of black coffee. Then he’d sat and checked his phone without taking a sip. It looked as if he couldn’t take his eyes away from the screen.

She had to taunt him a little bit, right?

Checking her messy bun in the mirror behind the long counter, Kayla straightened her bright blue apron that stated Cupcakes Make Everything Better and headed over with a fresh pot of coffee toward the gloomy-looking man in the corner. Need a refill? she asked pointedly while she eyed his full cup.

Holt lifted his gray eyes to her, and her heart did such a shimmy-shake she almost dropped the coffee pot. A crime, how much this man gave her such jitters. Chalking that up to professional jealousy, she tamped down her inner tummy roil and gave him a sassy grin. She’d been down the jealousy-on-the-job trip before. Never again.

Standing and staring her in the eyes with a soulful lost blankness, his spicy scent reviving the shakes she’d calmed, he simply said, No. Then he dropped a five on the table, pushed past her, then headed out the door.

Cate walked up and shook her head, her angel-winged rhinestone ear-wraps sparkling against her short dark curls. That’s a first. That man left you speechless.

Her friend was right. Now it felt as if she’d been turned to stone.

*

Holt walked along the path that would take him back to Falling Blossoms Inn, his head throbbing with each beat of his broken heart. What should he do now? Go back to San Antonio? Go to his parents’ ranch out from town and confess all, then hide there for the rest of the week? A week he’d managed to take off for this important trip?

Or should he turn around and apologize to Kayla Burton for being so rude?

It wasn’t as if they knew each other. They’d been thrown together catering an event here at the inn, but they didn’t get along. Still, he had to smile. The woman had kept him on his toes, and she’d given him as much as he gave.

Refreshing. She’d been a refreshing change from what he’d grown used to by being in a relationship that had obviously had as many holes as a sieve.

He whirled to go back to explain to Kayla when a flash of blond hair and miles of legs ran smack-dab into him. It took his breath away. She smelled like sugar and flowers, but her sky-blue eyes flashed with feminine fire.

Grabbing her to keep them both from toppling over, he gave her a surprised stare. Kayla?

Pulling away with a pretty pout, she retorted, Holt?

I’m sorry, he said, his voice scratchy. For walking out earlier.

Yeah, well, you do owe me an apology. She stood back, her arms crossed against her midsection in a protective stance. But I have to admit, I was being my usual annoying, nosy self.

Oh, and here I thought you really wanted to refill my coffee cup.

I did. But after you were so rude, I also wanted to throw the whole pot in your face. Are you always this surly in the morning?

Did he tell her the truth or keep being surly? Remembering how they’d sparred the first time he’d met her here, Holt put his hands in his jeans pockets and focused on the big Victorian-style house up the path. I’ve got a lot on my mind.

Yeah, getting married. A big step. Too big for me, obviously. But you—you’ve got this. And your bride will love this place. Remember how pretty it was that night in the spring with the jasmine and gardenia, the magnolias, and the water flowing? I hope you plan to bring your girl to Drake and Sarina’s wedding. Fall weddings are pretty, too.

Stop, he said, the pain in his heart making him panic. Just stop.

Okay, grumpy, she said, disappointment in her eyes as oak and sycamore leaves fell around them in a hushed dance. For a man who’s about to get married, you sure don’t seem into the details of the wedding.

He raked a hand through his hair. That’s because there isn’t going to be a wedding.

*

Kayla’s mouth fell open. "What? You mean you’re not getting married?" Had she sounded sympathetic or relieved? She’d gone for sympathetic, but who knew? Holt made her entire system do crazy flips. Besides, his life was none of her concern. But she sure wanted to know what had happened.

Holt pulled out his phone, his eyes turning an angry gray. Nope. Not getting married, not to Bethany anyway. Holding up the phone, he said, She just broke things off in a text.

A text? Kayla’s cynical heart did the jittery thing again. That’s cold and rude and… Who does that?

He showed her the text, as if to convince himself.

Holt, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t marry you. Please forgive me, but it’s over.

"My ex-fiancée, that’s who, he said. After shoving his phone back in his pocket, he turned toward the gardens by the spring. I don’t know why I even told you that."

And showed her the proof. She could rag him, but the woman he loved had dumped him in the worst way, without even telling him face to face.

Kayla followed him, feeling bad now that she knew why he was so distant and unwilling to spar. She’d take sparring with Holt over this crushed soul any day. I’m so sorry, Holt. So I guess she’s not coming to see the venue?

Uh, that would be a no, he said, giving her an eye roll. Just like she didn’t show up this past spring.

Remembering when she’d first heard about Holt and his barbeque truck, Kayla let out a gasp. That’s right. She was supposed to come here with you that weekend, but you left right after the wedding.

He nodded, looking so lost Kayla wanted to take him back to the café and feed him. And maybe run her hands through that choppy, always-a-mess head of lusciously thick bronze-brown hair. Feed him—good. Hands in hair—not good.

He frowned. I had two reasons for coming back here. One, I really wanted her to check this place out. And two, Drake wants me see some property here. She called me yesterday at the last minute with some excuse about having to work all weekend. Same as last time. She works at one of those high-end furniture and décor stores. Similar to Ikea, but way more expensive.

Uh-huh, Kayla replied, wanting to cut him some slack about obtaining property here because he seemed so downtrodden. Sounds demanding—her job, I mean.

She has high standards, he retorted as they headed for the gazebo, where a lot of weddings had taken place over the years. And I reckon I’m not a high-standard-enough guy.

He might not be metro enough, but Holt had being a Texas country boy down pat. The drawl, the swagger, the five o’clock shadow of a beard, everything from the hand-tooled boots to the jeans and nicely faded T-shirt. He’d even worn an old cowboy hat before. But today, all his enticing hair was loose and begging to be corralled. Darn it, she felt bad for him. Or at least her fingers did, because they still wanted to touch all that hair.

Now wait, she said, slapping him on his impressively muscular arm because her hands had to do something besides ogle him and fret about him settling in Blossom. You have high standards—barbecue-wise, that is. The man was a raging success with the fickle college crowds around both San Antonio and Austin. What more could a chef ask for? Oh, wait. Adding another truck somewhere in the vicinity of her?

Bethany didn’t think so, he admitted as they chose to sit on the steps instead of the bright new wicker furniture in the gazebo. Or rather, he chose to land there.

Kayla dropped down beside him, thinking her break had ended but this man needed a friend. So you’re saying the woman you wanted to marry doesn’t support your line of work?

Not much, he replied. He relaxed back on his elbows, then stared up at the brilliant blue sky. Big-city girl wants big-city life and a big-city chef. Shrugging, he added, We didn’t agree on much of anything. She wanted wine, candlelight, and a prestigious address. I like beer, stars in the sky, and ranch houses. My food trucks aren’t elegant, but, hey, they pay the rent.

I think you’re cutting yourself short, Kayla said, already going into loyal mode. I tasted your food, and even I have to admit it’s pretty good. Who needs elegant when you can have burnt ends?

You like the burnt ends?

The best part of brisket and pork. That’s about as classy as I get.

He studied her with a perplexed glint in his eyes that turned into admiration. You seem to be a woman who knows what she wants, too. Nodding toward the still-busy café on the hill by the entryway to the estate, he said, You’ve created a nice place here.

And what does Mr. Hog Heaven Man want? Kayla asked, very much wanting to know since he’d given her a compliment. And also very much sending herself a warning that glared as red as the oak leaves at her feet, reminding her that she needed to get up and run away fast. She had created something here, and she needed to focus on the big plans she had for the future. Now she had to wonder what plans he had, too. And why had he decided here would be a good place to start those plans?

I want this, he said, glancing over at her. I want trees and wind and leaves and water. Then he glanced at the cupcake motif on her apron before his gaze landed back on her face. And cupcakes, of course.

Chapter Two

Kayla’s