A Sweet Alaskan Fall

by Jennifer Snow

  “Anyway, you shouldn’t eat unwashed produce.”

  “A few germs never killed anybody.”

  “That’s actually false, but I’m talking about the pesticides. Those grapes aren’t organic or grown in a pesticide-free environment.” He took them out of her cart and replaced them with new ones—three dollars more expensive ones.

  She tried one. They did taste better.

  Eddie reached for a clove of garlic and some fresh cilantro (or so said the label above it) and put them in his basket. Montana watched as he selected several green peppers and an onion. “What are you making for dinner tonight?” she asked, closing down her Google search. The smells coming from his apartment all the time were better than any delivery service. Maybe he’d let her buy some of whatever he was making.

  “Tonight is Grilled Chili-Cilantro Chicken. Why? Want to come over?” He looked just as surprised by the offer as she did.

  “I have a date. With Lance. I’m cooking dinner,” she said, watching as he selected packets of ground cumin and red-pepper flakes from the spices.

  “Chicken fingers and mac and cheese?” he asked, then glancing into her cart. “Grapes and Doritos for dessert?” No judgment, just humor in his voice.

  Montana sighed. “So I can’t cook. What’s your point? There are more important things in life than eating meals that take forever to put together.”

  “Not for most guys. You are trying to win his heart through his stomach, right?”

  No. That hadn’t been her motivation at all. Actually, she’d just been wanting to do something, be somewhere there wasn’t an audience. Somewhere they might be able to have a conversation without getting interrupted by adoring fans wanting his autograph. Somewhere they might have a connection develop because his eyes weren’t wandering to distractions. Somewhere they might be able to take the relationship to another level...if there was one.

  “Or was your invite more of a Netflix-and-chill type of thing?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow in her silence.

  Montana swiped at him, her fingers barely grazing his arm, but the shock of electricity that passed between them had her pulling her hand away quickly. “No. Nothing like that. I thought we’d stay in, that’s all.”

  “Ah. I get it. Well, good luck with dinner. Fire extinguisher is next to the fridge,” Eddie said as he started to walk away.

  “I won’t be needing it,” she called after him. She reached for the items he’d selected and added them to her cart. Grilled Chili-Cilantro Chicken didn’t sound so hard. There had to be a recipe for it online. She’d follow that. And hers would taste better than Eddie’s.

  Four hours later, Montana reached for the fire extinguisher as the pan on the stove flamed. She pointed the nozzle and sprayed until the flames gave way to a charcoaled mess. She coughed as she fanned the smoke in her kitchen and went to open the window.

  “At least you have the Doritos and grapes,” her sister said, appearing at the table behind her.

  “I don’t have time for you right now.” Montana reached for her cell phone and opened the local fast-food delivery app. Enough of this shit. She’d followed the instructions online, and the chicken was still torched and stuck to the bottom of the pan.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t give up. Cooking can’t be that hard,” Dani said.

  “How would you know? Mom used to have to make you cereal in the morning because you always added the milk to the bowl first and then made a mess everywhere when you added the Frosted Flakes.”

  Dani laughed. “I did that shit on purpose. If you do things wrong, people don’t expect you to do it again. Low expectations—that’s the key to happiness.”

  “Maybe. But right now, I have nothing to serve Lance for dinner, and he will be here in an hour.” She scrolled through the delivery options in town.

  “Why don’t you ask Eddie for help? His apartment smells delicious.”

  “I’m not asking Eddie.”

  A knock on her apartment door had her sister disappearing. Shit. Lance better not be early. She needed to talk to her landlord about putting a sign in the lobby about not letting strangers into the building. At least with the buzzer, she had time to prepare for guests. She ran a hand through her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall before opening the door.

  To Eddie.

  “Need some help?” The amusement on his face was too much. He’d predicted she’d fail.

  Her competitive nature wouldn’t admit defeat. Montana closed the door a little so he couldn’t see the smoke still filling her apartment. “No. Everything’s under control.”

  “I can smell the burned chicken from my apartment,” he said.

  Montana glared at him. “And I suppose yours turned out perfectly?”

  He nodded. “It did.”

  “You could just sell me yours.” She’d pay any price right now to avoid having to order something, have it delivered before Lance arrived and get rid of the take-out-container evidence that she was a failure in the kitchen. Impressing Lance with her cooking should be the last thing she concerned herself with, but she wanted him to see her beyond her extreme-athletic abilities. Turns out, she wasn’t sure she had any.

  Eddie grinned. “But then you’d be lying to Lance.”

  Damn Eddie and his morals. “I don’t have time to go out and rebuy all the ingredients.”

  “I think I have enough stuff left. Would you like to learn how to cook or not?”

  Learning to cook might be overstating; she’d settle for knowing how to make this one meal right now. “Fine. Show me how to make something that smells like yours.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, returning to his apartment.

  Montana waited for him and when he came back carrying a full grocery bag, she stood back as Eddie led the way into her apartment and sprayed an air freshener. “First, we need to get the smell of failure out of here,” he said with a wink.

  “Man, he’s so cute and so sweet coming to your rescue like this.”

  Shit. Her sister was back.

  Behind Eddie’s back, Montana made a motion for her to disappear, but Dani was too busy checking out Eddie. She circled around him—super close—and Montana held her breath. Eddie didn’t sense anything. Why would he? She was the only one crazy enough to see ghosts. “Dani!” she hissed under her breath as Eddie headed into the kitchen.

  Eddie turned toward her with an expectant look. “Did you say something?”

  “Um...no.”

  “Do you have another pan? This one could take a while to clean,” he said, surveying the charred food on the stove and checking his watch.

  “Yes, I think so.” The deal at Walmart was buy one pan, get the second one half price, and Kaia had convinced her it was a good deal despite Montana’s protests that even one pan was being ambitious. Grateful for it now, she bent to retrieve it from the drawer below the sink and caught Eddie’s gaze as it dropped to her ass. She stood up quickly and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” he said, removing the old one from the stove and replacing it with the new one.

  “Mixing bowl?”

  “I only have the one. It’s in the dishwasher,” she said, scanning the kitchen. On the center of the table was a big, porcelain decorative bowl with flowers in it. A housewarming gift from Erika. An eyesore, really, but she hadn’t wanted to hurt the other woman’s feelings, so she’d displayed it. At least she’d get some use out of it now. She grabbed it, dumped the flowers into the trash and quickly rinsed the bowl. “Will this work?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Improvisation. I like it.”

  “Man, I love a guy who can cook,” Dani said, propping her ghost ass onto the counter next to the stove.

  Montana’s heart raced. Why the hell was she still here? She nodded toward the open window, but her sister continued to ignore her. Damn, sh
e must really be stressed right now. Dani never stuck around when other people were present.

  “Get over here,” Eddie said, glancing over his shoulder at her.

  “Oh, can’t I just watch you do it? I’m a great visual learner,” Montana said. If she messed this up twice, there’d be no time to figure out a new plan before Lance arrived. Also, she wasn’t eager to look like an idiot in front of Eddie.

  “Nice try, but I believe in a hands-on approach,” he said, his gaze boring into hers.

  “He could be hands-on with me anytime,” Dani said.

  Montana did her best to conceal her annoyance with her sister as she slowly approached the counter. “Okay, well, I mixed all of these ingredients together the first time. I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

  Eddie surveyed the ingredients on her counter. “Where’s the brown sugar?”

  “You didn’t buy brown sugar at the grocery store!” The recipe had called for it, but Eddie hadn’t bought any, so she thought maybe it was one of those optional ingredients.

  “I had some already.”

  “You own brown sugar?”

  He shrugged. “I use it in my chocolate zucchini muffins.”

  Oh, my God. She took a deep breath. “Well, can I borrow some sugar?”

  His grin was wide. “Wow, we’re like neighbors from the fifties.”

  “Eddie. Sugar?”

  “He could pour some sugar on me anytime,” Dani said, breaking into a terrible rendition of the Def Leppard classic.

  This was a nightmare.

  “I’m actually out,” he said. “I used the last of mine, but if you have honey, we can substitute.” He went to her pantry. “Ah, bingo!”

  The previous tenant must have left it behind, because Montana had absolutely no use for honey, but she kept that to herself. “How do you know these things?” Honey and brown sugar were nothing at all alike.

  “Told you—I went to culinary school.” Eddie added the honey to the ingredients on the counter.

  “This guy is fascinating,” Dani said.

  “Okay, so let’s mix everything together,” Eddie said.

  Montana waited.

  “I meant you,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her closer.

  Montana stared at his hand on hers. Could he feel the pounding of her pulse through her wrist? She swallowed hard, moving her hand away and reaching for the olive oil first.

  “Just a teaspoon should do it,” Eddie said. “Oh, wait.”

  She paused. “What’s wrong?” She hadn’t even started yet.

  Eddie reached for the apron that Kaia had bought her as a joke from behind the kitchen door. “This could get messy,” he said, looping it over her head. His fingers grazed her neck and goosebumps surfaced on every inch of her body. Her breath caught, and she froze in place as he reached for the apron strings and wrapped them around her waist, stepping closer to tie it in the back. His body was inches from hers, and his dark brown eyes were like pools of chocolate that she found herself drowning in all of a sudden. Had his eyes always been this mesmerizing? So dark they were almost black, but containing kindness and sincerity mixed with an unexplored intensity that swallowed her up.

  His gaze dropped to her lips, and she instinctively licked them, causing his expression to change instantly to something she could only identify as lust. He cleared his throat and quickly stepped back. “Okay, that should protect you—your clothes, that is,” he said, sounding slightly flustered.

  Well, he wasn’t the only one. Where the hell had this reaction to him come from? She wasn’t attracted to Eddie. He was the exact opposite of her type. Everyone else thought their bickering was actually flirting, but it hadn’t felt that way. And she’d certainly never gotten the vibe from him that he was into her. He just liked to tease her and irritate her. Turn her on, apparently.

  “Earth to Mon,” Dani said, whispering in her ear.

  Shit. She was standing there like a moron. “Right. Okay. Mixing the ingredients.” Focus on making dinner.

  For Lance.

  She was partially successful as she repeated the same actions she’d done on her own, except this time adding the honey to the mixture, which made it stick to the chicken, instead of pooling in the bottom of the frying pan and burning quickly. Eddie smiled as she nervously removed the lid after the required cooking time. “Looks just like mine,” he said.

  Montana blinked as she stared at the delicious-looking, delicious-smelling food. “I did it.”

  “See? Hands-on approach always works,” Eddie said, a hint of something in his voice that had heat rushing to Montana’s cheeks. Hands-on. Right. The skin at her neck tingled where his fingers had touched.

  Jesus. What was happening to her? He’d barely touched her neck. What if he’d actually touched her? For real? Intentionally? Somewhere a lot more tempting than the back of her neck? And why was she wishing he had?

  She looked away quickly. “Thank you for your help,” she said, reaching to untie the apron.

  “Leave it on. At least until Lance gets here. It’s sexy.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, it looks more authentic that way,” he added with a wink.

  The simple gesture he’d done a thousand times before had her knees weakening this time. Dani’s dreamy sigh as she watched their interaction was exactly how Montana felt. When had Eddie gotten so hot? Was it just because he’d come to her aid that evening? Or because it was sexy to see his expertise in the kitchen? She didn’t care about those things, did she?

  Maybe there was an element of damsel-in-distress syndrome in her kick-ass, take-no-prisoner personality after all. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but right now there was no denying, there were new feelings coursing through her. Feelings spurred by Eddie.

  “I should get out of here,” Eddie said, leaving the kitchen.

  Montana followed, her gaze taking him in. Broad shoulders, strong back, sexy ass in jeans that hugged his body so nicely.

  Dani was close on her heels.

  “Right. Thanks again. I appreciate the help,” she said, as he opened the apartment door and went out into the hall.

  “You got it,” he said. “Anytime.” His voice sounded deeper suddenly, and the word seemed to hold a shit-ton of meaning.

  Montana blew out a long breath. It was really hot in here.

  “You should be having dinner with him,” her sister said as they both watched Eddie go into his apartment next door.

  For the first time, it was hard to disagree.

  * * *

  EDDIE CRANKED THE pace of the treadmill and blasted a rock song with a heavy beat from his workout playlist. This would be his second workout of the day, but after spending the last hour with Montana in the close quarters of her kitchen, he needed to let off some pent-up energy. He also had to get the hell out of his apartment. It had been irritating enough that he’d helped her make dinner for another guy; he’d be damned if he sat next door alone while they enjoyed eating it—and did other things that made his stomach turn to think about.

  He was pathetic.

  His feet hit the conveyor belt with a steady rhythm, and his heart rate increased. Unfortunately, it would take a lot more than loud music and exertion to erase the image of Montana in her painted-on jeans and V-neck sweater from Eddie’s mind. Her shapely hips and thighs, her thin waist that he wanted to wrap his arms around while he helped her at the stove...

  That had been the point of the apron—to hide her sexy-as-fuck body so he could concentrate—but he’d been unable to just hand it to her. It was like he’d been on autopilot as he’d draped the apron over her head, reached around her to tie it. He had to have been imagining the look in her eyes when she’d stood there staring at him. It was probably shock over the unexpected gesture.

  And he refused to think about the way she’d licked her lips when he’d dared a glance
at her mouth.

  Shit.

  The way she bit her lip as she cut the fresh cilantro and looked nervous as she added the spices to the mixture, second-guessing herself. A woman normally so full of confidence showing a more vulnerable side had done things to him. He’d been wishing for an apron of his own to hide his reaction to her.

  Jesus. He had to get his promotion transfer soon. Or find a new place to live. He couldn’t run away to the gym every time Lance was visiting. This was the first time Montana had invited the guy over. And she was making an effort to cook for him. Things had to be progressing between them. Maybe even getting serious?

  Jealousy curled through him as he thought about the other guy touching Montana, kissing Montana, talking to her, making her laugh. He wanted to be that guy, which was so incredibly stupid. He was not her type.

  She wasn’t normally his type either. But something about her—her confidence, her strength of character to come to Wild River and start her life over, her wild side—Eddie had never been attracted to that in a woman before, but with Montana, he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. And he was sure to get burned if he wasn’t careful.

  The door to the workout room opened a few minutes later, and he had to look twice as he saw Montana enter through the reflection in the mirror.

  That was a quick dinner.

  Seeing her dressed in her yoga shorts and bra top, he nearly fell off of the treadmill. He grabbed the handles and fought to compose himself as she looked his way. The bright teal matching outfit complemented her sun-kissed skin. Long legs in those tight shorts and the mesh insert at the front of the bra gave him a breath-stealing view of her cleavage. She was shaped like an athlete with the curves of a fitness-magazine model. No wonder she turned heads everywhere she went in Wild River.

  She said something, but all he saw were her lips moving. Sexy, still painted a pale pink shade of lipstick lips. She wasn’t the type to put on makeup just to go work out, so obviously, Lance hadn’t kissed it all off.

  The knowledge made him feel a lot better than it should.

  He slowed the treadmill and paused his music, removing one earbud. “Sorry, what did you say?”