Burned Biscuits and the Boss Man’s Bed A Lone Mountain Christmas Romance
I can’t cook. Like, at all. So naturally, when my aunt breaks her wrist right before Christmas, I agree to fill in as the cook on the Montana ranch where she works. How hard can it be?
Cowboys eat beans and steak, right?
Wrong. Especially when the grumpy, gorgeous owner catches me setting his kitchen on fire my very first day.
The man is six feet of bossy cowboy with a God complex (or maybe that’s just my instant attraction to the man!) and hands that make me forget why staying anywhere is a terrible idea.
He offers to teach me to cook. I tell him where he can shove his biscuits. Then he kisses me against the refrigerator, and suddenly I’m learning a lot more than recipes.
The deal was simple: six weeks, then I’m gone. I never stay anywhere longer than that. But when he literally tells me I’m not allowed to leave? Well. That’s when things get interesting.
He plans to fill her every waking thought. She plans to leave after Christmas. Only one of them is getting their way.
