Free A Cowboy in the Kitchen by Meg Maxwell Page B

whirlwind wedding three weeks later and was madly in love ten years later, with two little cowboys and three dogs.
    Annabel let out a deep sigh. She had no idea how love worked or was supposed to work.
    Ugh, what was she doing? She had to focus on saving Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen, not worry about her love life or lack thereof. When it came to West Montgomery, she had to protect her heart and keep her lips at a distance. Two feet away at all times. That way, if he tried to kiss her again, he’d fall over and land flat on his face, as it should be.
    â€œNow, that’s a much better sight than a new sign going up across the street,” Hattie said, winking at Annabel.
    Huh? Annabel glanced out the window and there was the man himself crossing the street, looking very...serious. West, in a suit and tie, strangely enough, was about to pass through the open gate leading to the restaurant, but then he turned tail, jogging back across the street, paced from the yoga studio down to the Blue Gulch Public Library and back again. He stood there, across the street, hands on hips, as though he was working something out with himself.
    Good Lord, was he about to come in here and tell her he wanted his money back for the lessons, prorated for the breakfast and lunch ones he’d had, that he’d hire someone else?
    Or maybe something had progressed with the Dunkins in their threat to try to get custody of Lucy. Maybe that was what the suit and tie was about. Had he already been to court his morning?
    â€œInteresting,” Hattie said, eyebrow raised as West paced down to the library again, then back, crossing the street with a look of pure determination in his face, as though whatever was yanking him around inside his brain wouldn’t win out. He stood by the window and glanced in and when he spotted Annabel, he held up a hand, then jogged up the steps.
    Annabel shrugged at Hattie, wiped her hands on her apron and went out the front door to the porch.
    â€œDo you have a few minutes?” he asked. “Maybe more than a few minutes. I need to talk to you.”
    â€œLet me just tell Hattie to cover my potatoes.” In moments she was back, apron off.
    They walked down Blue Gulch Street toward the town green with its pretty wood gazebo and American flag. He stopped in front of a stone bench, and gestured for her to sit down, then sat beside her, loosening his blue-and-red-striped tie.
    â€œI’m in this getup—” he gestured at his suit jacket “—because I’d planned to go see Winston Philips this morning, to hire him as my attorney to fight the Dunkins. But when I pulled into the lot, the Dunkins were coming out of his office. They mean business, Annabel.” He cleared his throat. “And so do I. So I have a proposition for you.”
    She stared at him. “A proposition?” What proposition? Just then, a couple walking their little dachshund strolled by, so she had to wait until they said their hellos and asked West how his daughter was and if he had any ponies for sale, which he did, and get through five more minutes of them setting up a date and time to come out to the ranch. Finally they waved and walked away, the little dog stopping to sniff something, and Annabel wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, Move along already, people!
    West took her hand and led her over to the narrow cobblestone alley between the park and Blue Gulch Coffee and Treats. “Just so there are no more interruptions.” He glanced down, then up at her. “You’ve said Hurley’s is in big financial trouble. I’m willing to take care of the bills, payroll, the loan in its entirety and flesh out the business account with enough capital for improvements. I’ll make sure Hurley’s stays open and give you the breathing room so that the restaurant can start turning a profit again.”
    She stared at him, joy fluttering for a moment as she heard only that