“Don’t try to spare my feelings.” There was no anger on his face. “Just tell me how I can make it better.”
Before she could answer, Eric piped up. “She promised me she’d make me some pizza. Maybe it’s time for her to keep that promise and show us all how it’s done.”
“I said I’d do itifwe could find the ingredients. It’s not slapping canned stuff on pre-made dough and shoving it in an oven.”
“You tell me what you need, and I’ll get it,” Joe said. “When can you come in? You can use my kitchen, and I’ll even clean up.”
Vic didn’t have a recipe at hand, but she’d made it often enough she was pretty sure she could remember everything. She ran through a list of ingredients for the dough, sauce, and the toppings. “When will I have time?”
“How does Wednesday morning sound?” Joe asked. “That gives me some time to round up these ingredients. We don’t open till eleven, so I can make room for you during our prep. It can be our lunch.”
Lexi shook her head. “We’ll be on our way back from rafting Browns Canyon. How about Thursday morning?”
Joe’s brows drew together. “I usually do payroll Thursday morning.”
And for a moment, Vic thought she was off the hook.
“But if I come in early and get payroll out of the way, that will work. How about nine? You show me how to make better pizza, and your meals for the rest of your time here are on the house.” He held out a hand.
She took it, and they shook. “It’s a deal.”
Rain came up behind them and spoke to Joe. “You wanted to see me?”
He turned away from the table, lowered his voice. “If the Team shows up tonight, their drinks are on the house. They’ve had a rough day.”
Rain nodded. “I heard.”
The two of them walked off together.
What had happened?
“How cool is that?” Lexi took a sip of her beer. “You’re going to give cooking lessons to Caribou Joe.”
The idea made Vic nervous. She’d only ever cooked for pleasure. She’d never cooked under pressure before. “I hope I don’t mess something up.”
The band reached the end of a song, then the lead singer spoke. “We hear we’ve got a bride and groom in the house tonight. Lexi and Austin, this next song’s for you. From what we’ve been told, it fits.”
They slipped into a Zydeco version ofParadise By the Dashboard Light, their choice of song making Vic and everyone else laugh.
Austin took Lexi’s hand, kissed it, and led her onto the dance floor, where people made way for them, cheering as they started to dance.
Eric took her hand. “Let’s put those fancy boots of yours to work.”
She pulled back. “I don’t know how to dance like that.”
He didn’t back down. “I’ll teach you. It’s not as hard as wakeboarding.”
He led her to the dance floor, took her right hand with his left, and placed his other hand on her back. “You hold onto my shoulder. Yes, just like that. The steps are easy. Just follow my lead. Quick, quick, slow, slow. Quick, quick, slow, slow.”
It wasn’t hard, but being close to Eric like this destroyed Vic’s concentration, and more than once she lost the rhythm. He smelled like sunshine and saddle leather, his movements confident, his hands strong as they guided her.
He looked down at her, his blue eyes dark. “You’re doing great.”
When the song ended, she applauded along with everyone else, then cheered as Austin scooped Lexi into his arms and carried her back toward their table.
And there was that damned lump in her throat again.
The band started another song, a slow song with a sensual, bluesy vibe, and Vic turned to walk back to their table.