Holly Jolly Cowboy (The Wyoming Cowboy #7)(13)

As if on cue, Hannibal headed into the kitchen and sat at Adam’s feet, wagging his tail and waiting patiently for a bite. “Sorry, bud,” he told him. “It’s got onions.”

“You and the onions,” she exclaimed. Holly gave him a frustrated look, then went to a nearby jar and pulled out a couple of dog biscuits. “Give him this, all right? And shut up about the onions.”

He took it from her and gave it to Hannibal, who took it delicately from Adam’s fingers. He watched as she gave one of the bone-shaped treats to her little runt of a dog, too, and thought about what she said. “You’re staying here all month?”

She nodded. “Sage suggested it. And it’ll be easier on me to cook for you guys after work if I’m already here. Saves me a few steps.” She crossed the kitchen and moved to her purse, pulling out a notepad and pen. “Which reminds me. If you don’t like onions, what else will you not eat? I’m trying to make a menu.”

Adam took another bite of the delicious meat pie that tasted nothing like onions. He was kinda stuck now, though, wasn’t he? He’d only brought the onion thing up to irk her, and he’d be damned if he backed down now. “I don’t see why you care, since you’re going to be stubborn about this.”

“Me?” Holly gave him an outraged look. “You’re the one being a dick! I need this job. Just tell me what you want to eat and get out of my damn hair so I can get to work.”

For a waitress, she sure was a sour sort. “Service with a smile, just like at the saloon. Can’t believe you work off of tips, considering you spend all of your time looking at me like you want to cut my damn balls off.”

She scoffed. “Maybe if you tipped something other than a dollar you’d get better service.”

“Maybe if I got better service, I’d tip more than a dollar,” he countered. He scraped the last bite into his mouth and pushed the plate away. “Just stay out of my way for the next month and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“Absolutely,” Holly said immediately. “Just tell me what you want to eat and we’ll make this work. I don’t want to spend time around you, either.”

“Sandwiches are fine. You can drop ’em off on my doorstep.” Adam glanced over at her. “Less I have to see your face, the better.”

“Fine!” She wrote with a big flourish in her scratch pad. “Sandwiches for the jerk cowboy and chicken noodle soup for the nice one. I got it.”

“Good.” He turned around and left, irritated. What was it about that woman that got under his skin so damn quickly? She was here to make his life easier for the next month. He was going to work long hours to handle things while Sage and Jason took their vacation with their kids, and he was going to get paid extra for it. He’d been looking forward to the money.

Now he was going to have to deal with her crap all month long. He couldn’t seem to catch a damn break. When Sage had said she would hire someone to cook meals for them, maybe he should have specified “anyone in the world but Holly.”

He hoped she kept her word and stayed out of his hair, at least.





CHAPTER SIX





The next morning, there was a basket on the doorstep of his cabin. Inside it were three brown bags, marked Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. Each one had the exact same thing in it—a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off and an apple.

Man, she was really determined to drive him crazy. He wasn’t going to complain, though. In fact, he wasn’t going to say shit. He’d eat the sandwich and buy snacks in town if he got hungry, because there was no way he was going to talk to her again. He’d rather starve.

So he said nothing, and when it came time for lunch, he and Carson paused on horseback. He watched as the other man pulled out a slice of the meat pie and a thermos that steamed and smelled delicious.

“That soup?” Adam asked.

Carson grunted and took a swig.

In Carson language, that was a yes. Adam sidled his horse closer and leaned over. Sure enough, Carson’s thermos was full of a thick, chunky soup with big, fat noodles. The meat pie looked good, too, even if it was cold. He nodded at the ranch hand. “What did you have for breakfast?”

Carson shrugged. “Breakfast burrito.”

“A burrito?”

“With sausage.”

Suddenly Adam’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich was feeling a little insulting.

“And bacon,” Carson continued. “And potatoes—”

“Okay, okay,” Adam snapped. “I get the picture.” He was going to send a strongly worded note, he decided. He’d demand the same food that Carson was getting. He looked over at the other man and scowled to himself when he brought out what looked like an enormous cookie of some kind.

She was doing this to get under Adam’s skin. He knew it, and he hated that it was working. He hated that one day in with her little game and he was going to bend already. No, he told himself. He’d hold out. He’d hold out and take the high road, and the moment Jason or Sage called to check on how things at the ranch were going, he’d let it slip that she was being petty. She wanted this job so badly and the best thing he could do was ruin it for her.

Yeah, that’s what he’d do.

Adam glanced over at Carson, eyes narrowed. “What’s for dinner?”