under his arm, clutched the silverware in one hand and the pot holder and pen in the other. He took a deep breath, and his dark eyes sparkled. “Lead the way, boss.”
Clint headed for the living room, followed by José. Their discussion in the kitchen had given him a whole new perspective on Meg’s presence here. He hadn’t realized he was giving his employees the thrill of a lifetime. He’d only been concerned about turning his beloved ranch into a joke. He still didn’t like that part of it, but maybe some good would come out of this episode, after all.
MEG COULDN’T IMAGINE why it was taking Clint so long to bring his cook out of the kitchen to meet her. She’d picked up a copy of Western Horseman lying on the coffee table and was pretending to read it as she strained to hear what the two men were saying, but they kept their voices low. At one point she heard the word hot very distinctly, but without context she didn’t know if they were talking about food or her.
She couldn’t assume they were talking about her. That was a very self-centered view of life, and she’d promised herself from the beginning that if she ever made it, she wouldn’t become self-centered. But realistically, what else would they be talking about, especially in such hushed tones?
And if the word hot had been in reference to her, then they were in there debating her babe status. At least Clint wasn’t laughing hysterically at the idea that she was hot. That meant she wouldn’t embarrass herself if she decided to make a move on him.
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