Page 2 of Cowboys & Hot Sauce (Festival of Hearts #5)

"Mrs. Thornton. Mrs. Dalton." Recognition flashed as I spotted my former Sunday school teacher and the local flower shop owner. "Nice to see you both again. Stop by for samples later—on the house. Y'all could use something to spice up your afternoon besides other folks' business."

Their mumbled apologies trailed behind them as they scurried away. Nobody left in the family she can rely on . The words echoed as I returned to my setup.

By early afternoon, my booth gleamed with readiness—menu board displayed with my distinctive swirling handwriting, sample station arranged in a vibrant color spectrum, kitchen prepped.

I'd hung strings of tiny pepper lights around the serving window and positioned my vintage hot sauce collection where customers could admire it.

The festival wouldn't officially open until four, giving me just enough time to check in with the vendor coordinator.

Making my way across the fairgrounds, August heat shimmered off the pavement.

Mrs. Naylor arranged turquoise jewelry at her booth while Mr. York assembled his famous popcorn stand.

The Josey twins struggled with a crooked banner for their face-painting service.

Pure Sweetwater—familiar, slightly chaotic, and complicated in the way only hometowns can be.

I spotted Burke Tate at the information booth, checking in vendors under the merciless August sun.

He wore a faded blue T-shirt with the Tate & Sons logo, his brown cowboy hat tipped low against the glare.

The years since high school had filled out his frame, turning the lanky math tutor I remembered into a man who looked like he could haul hay bales without breaking a sweat.

"Look who drew the short straw on committee duty," I called as I approached.

Burke looked up, and for a moment, genuine pleasure lit his green eyes. "Scarlet Landry," he said, his voice warming as he took me in. "Heard you were back with that food truck of yours."

"In the flesh," I said, leaning against the counter and wiping sweat from my neck. "Looks like they suckered you into organizing this year?"

"Somebody's got to keep things running," he said with a half-smile that caught me off guard. Burke had never been the expressive type in high school. "Though Rhett was supposed to be helping with all this."

"Let me guess—he's busy charming the ladies instead of working?" I asked.

Burke rolled his eyes. "Claimed he needed to 'coordinate' with the refreshment vendors. Last I saw, he was helping Didi DiSanto set up her lemonade stand. Funny how he never offers that kind of service when the ranch fences need fixing."

"Classic Rhett," I laughed. "Always finding the prettiest girl in the room to help."

"And somehow never getting in trouble for it." There was an ease to his voice I didn't remember, a confidence that made my stomach do an unexpected flip.

In high school, while his brothers were winning blue ribbons at 4-H shows, Burke had helped me through algebra when I'd skipped too many classes.

I'd never given much thought to how he'd grown up until now—seeing how the years had broadened his shoulders and added a touch of stubble along his jaw that he hadn't had at seventeen.

"So you're really back in Sweetwater?" he asked, his eyes studying me with interest.

"For good, hopefully," I said, surprising myself with how easily I opened up. "I'm actually hoping to take over Smokin' Lurline's. MeeMaw's thinking of retiring."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "Retiring? That's hard to imagine."

"The problem is, she's considering selling to Bethany Sue Walker," I admitted. "She's not convinced I'm ready to take over—thinks I might get restless and take off for the city again."

Something shifted in Burke's expression—concern, maybe. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, I spotted Cody Parker and his fiancée Jennifer approaching the booth.

My stomach dropped. My ex-boyfriend wore a crisp Western shirt with pearl snap buttons despite the heat, his boots polished to a shine. Beside him, Jennifer looked perfectly put-together in a floral sundress, her diamond ring catching the sunlight as she waved.

"Scarlet! Burke!" Cody called with manufactured enthusiasm. "Great to see you both!"

The conversation that followed was painfully predictable—Jennifer's questions about my little adventures dripping with condescension, Cody recalling how I'd organized an unauthorized bonfire cookout on school property the night before prom.

"Remember that?" He laughed, looking at Burke.

"Principal Rios nearly had a coronary when he saw all those grill marks on the football field the next morning!

Can you believe we used to think that kind of thing was a good idea?

Thank goodness for growing up and getting some sense, right Jennifer?

" He squeezed his fiancée's hand while giving me a look that clearly excluded me from the "grown-up" category.

I forced a smile, feeling my cheeks burn as they walked away. Six years gone, and they still saw me as that reckless teenager.

After they walked away, Burke glanced at me. "You'd think after so long, folks would find new stories to tell."

The understanding in his voice surprised me. Before I could think better of it, an idea struck—bold and impulsive in a way that would have made high-school me proud.

"Burke," I said, my heart racing, "be my boyfriend."

Papers scattered as he fumbled. "What?"

"For the weekend," I clarified quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks. "MeeMaw's ready to sell to Bethany Sue because she thinks I'm not settled enough. But if she saw me with someone like you—respected, reliable—it might convince her I'm serious about staying."

Burke stared at me, those green eyes widening. "You want us to pretend we're dating? To convince your grandmother?"

"Just through the festival," I said, suddenly aware how ridiculous it sounded. "That's all."

He gathered the fallen papers, his expression unreadable as he considered my proposal.

"Alright," he said finally.

"Really?" I couldn't hide my surprise.

"On one condition." He met my gaze directly. "No ghosting on me. If we're doing this, we need to see it through the whole weekend."

The seriousness in his voice caught me off guard. Was he remembering how I used to conveniently make myself scarce when things got difficult?

"Deal," I said, feeling oddly solemn about this crazy arrangement.

We shook on it, his calloused palm against mine. Such a simple touch shouldn't have made my pulse jump the way it did, but six years was apparently long enough to forget what it felt like to have Burke Tate's full attention.

"Then I guess I'm your boyfriend for the weekend, Scarlet Landry," he said quietly.

The way he said my name made me wonder exactly what I'd gotten myself into.