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group of guys sitting at the table. “Anyone got a cookbook?”
    Antonio glanced up. “Looks like you’ve done enough cooking already this morning judging by the smoke and the smoking hot girl in the kitchen.”
    Scott braced himself for the inevitable teasing. He knew he couldn’t get away with having a girl in the firehouse, particularly one who’d almost burnt it down, without some ribbing. “Ha, ha. Okay everybody, get all your jabs in now because I have to come up with some recipes for hors d’oeuvres by tonight.”
    “Hors d’oeuvres. What the hell for?” Troy looked up between bites of omelet.
    “Because I’m giving a cooking lesson to the girl you just met. I’m going to her apartment tonight.”
    “Well if this is how she cooks all the time, make sure she’s got smoke detectors with fresh batteries installed while you’re over there.” Still chewing and with his coffee mug clutched in one fist, Troy rose from his chair, walked toward the kitchen and returned with a book in his hand. He dumped it on the table in front of Scott. “There you go, Scotty. Gift from my sister two years ago. By the way, your girl’s omelets are pretty good.”
    His girl. Hopefully by tonight she would be. Scott glanced down at the book, which had obviously never even had its colorful and slightly dusty grease-coated cover cracked open in the two years it had sat in the firehouse kitchen. “ Lexi Cooper Cooks . Never heard of her.” Scott started to flip through the pages.
    “Sure you have. She’s the party planner working with the children’s hospital on the bachelor auction fundraiser.” Antonio snagged another piece of bacon off the tray.
    “She’s the one? So it’s her fault I’ll be parading around half naked and getting auctioned off. Great. Can’t wait to meet her at her little pre-auction bachelor mixer cocktail party thing and tell her what I think about her ideas,” Troy grumbled.
    Scott laughed, but had to be impressed. Judging by the photos, there were some pretty good-looking appetizers in the book. Nothing he couldn’t handle making. “Can I borrow this?”
    Troy waved a hand absently. “Be my guest. What’s mine is yours, man.”
    “Thanks.” Scott grabbed the last omelet and a few pieces of bacon, and settled in with the cookbook to make plans for his evening with Alexis.
    Hopefully he’d work up to a dessert lesson next, maybe something involving whipped cream. His mind reeled with the possibilities as he flipped the book over to look in the index in the back…and stopped dead
    There, smiling up at him from the back cover of the book, holding a whisk in one hand and a bowl in the other was his cooking student Alexis, only she was really Lexi Cooper, famous cookbook author.
    “Scotty. What’s wrong, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Antonio frowned at him from across the table.
    Scott swallowed and flipped the book over to hide the picture. “Nothing. Just can’t believe I have to make hors d’oeuvres.”
    The question of the day—of the whole damn year—remained. Why the hell was he teaching Lexi Cooper, best selling cookbook author according to the book blurb, how to cook anything?
    ~ * ~
    The doorbell rang at five minutes before five. Jeez. Scott must be anxious to get on with the lesson. Lexi was sure anxious to see him. She definitely approved of his hands-on cooking techniques. She had to admit in spite of the small fire, which she had put out, she really had the hang of making omelets now. She’d even tried making one at home and was able to actually eat it.
    That was a step in the right direction. She’d had to break the brand new omelet pan that one of the cookware companies had sent her as a promotional gift out of its box first. But the eggs tasted great. Then she’d written an article about how to cook brunch for a dozen for her weekly lifestyle column. She’d thrown in a few tidbits about table linens and centerpieces and viola , she’d gone from