25. Carson James
25
CARSON JAMES
“Y
ou’re not running away, are you?” I asked as I slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind me.
Lennon looked down at where she was buttoning her chef’s coat. “Do I look like I’m running away? A runaway chef doesn’t have the same pizzazz as a runaway bride.”
Her ass looked delectable in those black pants.
I slid my hand up her hip, standing behind her as she twisted her hair back into a low bun. When Lennon dropped her hands, I slid the daisy I had picked behind her ear.
“Don’t think I can wear that at work,” she said with a coy smile.
I dropped a little purple bloom that had sprung up by a fence post into the sleeve pocket of her chef’s coat.
“Wear flowers on your sleeve rather than your heart. You’ve bled enough, darling. Let yourself bloom.”
“You have a way with words, cowboy.” A soft smile painted her lips as she reached for the hairspray. “You make me feel delicate.”
“Glass is always delicate, even if it’s sharp and shattered.” I pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “It just takes someone picking up the pieces and forging them back together to make cathedrals.” I cupped her chin, craned my neck, and kissed her. “I’d worship you every day of my life if you let me.”
Her eyes squeezed in happiness in the corners. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”
“Do what?” I murmured as I peppered the side of her neck with kisses.
“Drop into the bunkhouse in the middle of your workday to make sure I’m still here.”
That woman had me pegged. I knew she was scared. I could feel it in her body every time I was near her. A tension. An unease.
“I want you to stay,” I said, skating my hands up and down her arms.
Her eyes lowered to the cuffs of her sleeves. “I’m here, aren’t I? You don’t have to babysit me. How’s the calf?”
Lennon had taken a liking to the little bottle-fed calf we were keeping in the barn. I’d find her checking on him on her days off and after her shift. As the weather crept out of the chilly winter temperatures and prepared for spring, she spent more and more of her time outside the bunkhouse.
Her responsibilities at the restaurant had only grown as events and reservations packed the schedule. The difference was that when she was off, she’d take walks. Once, I had even found her talking to Becks outside the restaurant.
That was a damn good day.
If I hadn’t experienced this song and dance before, it would have thrown me off. But Lennon came to me the same way Anarchy had—untrusting and prone to bolting.
It was that hole my dad had been talking about. Just because you stopped digging didn’t mean you were out of the darkness. You had to put all the dirt back in and climb out. That was a lot more work.
“You can’t distract me by talking about the calf,” I said. “He’s fine. One of the guys has him out in a little fenced-off area today. It’s out behind the ranch office if you wanna go visit him.”
“He needs a name,” Lennon declared.
I laughed. “Hate to break it to you, but we don’t name the cows.”
“Mickey has a name,” she argued as she pocketed her phone and my key to the bunkhouse.
“Mickey is a pet. He’s not going to end up on someone’s plate.”
Lennon pressed her hands to my chest. “He needs a name.”
My gaze lowered to her mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”
She smirked. “I’ve gotta go to work. I’ll see you tonight?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. She’d be seeing me tonight, she was just under the impression it would be when she clocked out and crawled back into my bed.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said softly as I kissed her lips, soaking in the softness—the tenderness of the moment.
Despite her protests, I walked my girl to the restaurant, holding her hand the entire way.
The day flew by. I was sweat-soaked and panting by the time I hurried back to the bunkhouse to rinse off for family dinner.
What had once been a ranch institution had changed when we became more than a generational cattle ranch. We used to gather at my parents’ house for dinner at least once or twice a week. The tradition had begun out of necessity. Even though my parents, brothers, and I all lived on the same land, we could go a week without seeing each other.
As my brothers went through the life changes of divorce, injuries and accidents, death, birth, and love, it was more than an institution. It was survival.
There was someone else in survival mode, and I knew that getting her to join family dinner was going to be worse than pulling teeth.
I garnered a handful of strange looks as I plodded up the path to the restaurant and dipped inside.
Jessica looked up from the host stand. “She’s in a mood. Consider yourself warned.”
“Probably my fault,” I clipped as I dipped through the dining room and into the kitchen. The smell of searing steaks and roasted vegetables made my stomach growl.
Julian looked up from the grill and tipped his head down the hall. “She’s yelling in the office.”
“Good luck,” Javi the pastry cook said as I passed him.
I followed the sound of shouts until I pushed open the office door and found Lennon in a screaming match with Chef DeRossi.
Well, Lennon was screaming. Chef DeRossi was sitting in the desk chair in one of his fancy suits.
The moment the door creaked open, she whirled around, wielding a takeout container of soup as a weapon.
“Out,” she snarled.
I crossed my ankles and rested my shoulder against the doorframe. “Why? It’s dinner time.”
Lennon pinched the bridge of her nose. “I will deal with you later. Get out.”
I glanced at my watch. “We’re gonna be late.”
“ We are not going anywhere. I have to work,” she shouted.
Chef DeRossi pressed his fist to his mouth and tried to hide his amused smile. “Lennon, have I ever told you that you remind me a lot of my wife?”
She cut him a sharp glare. “Does Maddie want to kill you regularly for messing with her work schedule?”
He chuckled. “Actually, she does. So I’m going to tell you what I have to remind her of all the time. Having a life outside of your job does not make you bad at your job or less respected in it. You need a break. You need people outside of the ones who report to you.”
“I take it you told her she was off the clock?”
“ She has a name,” Lennon snapped.
I glanced down at the takeout container in her hand. “Oh good. You got Brooke’s soup ready to go. Apparently, it’s the only thing she wants to eat during this pregnancy.”
“I’m about to dump it on your head,” she hissed. I watched as Lennon huffed, then put on the fa?ade of a professional. “I do not appreciate my schedule being messed with. I’m on the schedule tonight. Ergo, I will work tonight.”
I may have heard from Cassandra that Chef DeRossi would be dropping in for a visit for the next few days. And I may have put a bug in her ear that Lennon needed a night off.
And that night might have happened to land on the day I’d head up to my parents’ house for family dinner.
The only way I could convince her to go was by forcing her.
“Len. Take the night off. Come up to the house,” I said.
She gave me a searing look filled with fear and tears.
Chef DeRossi hunched over the desk and laced his hands together. “You wanna have this job long-term? Be a whole person outside of the kitchen. And if I see another schedule like the one you made for the last two weeks, you and I will have a different conversation. You can’t do good work if you’re dead. I’m not here because you’re not doing well. I came out here because I want you to continue to do good work.”
Lennon huffed and stormed out. Her tantrum was accompanied by the sound of stomping feet and slamming doors.
“Word of advice,” he began, clicking through the schedule on the screen. He erased the back-to-back work weeks Lennon had signed up for, with no days off.
“I’m all ears.”
Luca glanced up. “Keep at it. Lennon gets angry at people she trusts because she doesn’t want to risk that anger getting her in trouble again if she lets it out around the wrong people. Be honored that she gives you her emotions.” Mindlessly, he worked his finger over his wedding band. “I’m happy to see that you two worked things out.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah...Sorry about all that shit before.”
“Trust me, I get it,” he said with a laugh as he stood and buttoned his jacket. “I need to get behind the line. You two have a good night.”
I found Lennon out behind the ranch office, watching the little calf in its pen.
“Let me have it,” I said as I rested my arms on the fence post beside her. “I can handle it.”
She didn’t say a word.
“Talk to me.” When she didn’t, I took her hand and laced our fingers together.
Surprisingly, she walked with me instead of having to be dragged along.
“Len, I?—”
“Don’t ever fuck with my job again,” she clipped, staring hard at the horizon. “I thought you were past doing that. I don’t care if it was well intended. You wanna know my line? That’s it. Don’t fuck with my livelihood.”
“Noted, and I’m sorry,” I said as we hit the dirt path that connected the ranch office to Christian and Cassandra’s house. “But I knew?—”
“No buts. I don’t care what your reasoning is. Don’t do it.”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
We paused at a leaning fence post halfway between Christian’s house and Nate’s house. I picked a primrose and tucked it behind her ear. “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk through my garden forever.”
Her brows lifted in surprise. “That’s . . . beautiful.”
“Should be. Tennyson said it.” I cupped her cheeks. “For the millionth time, I’m sorry. I know we haven’t exactly put this thing between us in definable terms, so let me clarify a few things for you. I wanted you the night we fucked in that bar, and the moment you showed up at my door, you were mine. We can fill in the gaps at any pace you need, but the beginning was us, and the end will be us.”
“You make it sound like you’ll never let me leave the ranch,” she said. Her body language relaxed as she faced me, uncrossing her arms.
“If I had it my way, you’d never leave my bed, but we both have work to do.”
She tossed her head to the side, causing her black and white hair to spill out of her bun. “And what if I want to work at another restaurant?”
“Then I will build it right here with my own two hands. Every inch of my land is yours. It was yours long before you ever came through the gates.”
Lennon let out a long breath and rested her head on my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her. “It feels like home.” She rested a little more of her weight in my arms. “I’m sorry you have to say all those things.”
“Hey,” I said as I tugged her hair free from the elastic and combed my fingers through it. “Wanting affirmation isn’t a bad thing, and I’m sorry you never got it before this.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Now, can we have a good night off and head up to my folks’ house to have dinner so neither of us has to cook?”
“I’d rather not.”
I knew she was going to say that.
“Len—”
“Staff doesn’t fraternize with the family or mess with the ranch operations. Remember?”
I tugged on my jacket that she was still wearing. “This makes you family, Len. And you look damn good with my name on your chest.”
She looked down at the embroidered ranch logo. “I thought you said your name would never be mine.”
The memory hit me like a shot to the heart. “I was wrong.”
A self-satisfied smirk winked at the corner of her mouth. “I think those are the three sexiest words a man can say.”
“Well, there y’all are!” Momma said as she whipped her front door open. “I was about to send out a search party.” She beamed at Lennon. “Hey there, sweetie. Take your shoes off and come on in.”
“Your mom did know that you were dragging me here against my will, right?” Lennon hissed as she toed off her work shoes.
I set my boots beside hers. “Nah, I didn’t mention it.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“Don’t worry. She’s been setting a place for you for a few weeks now. I think she might be psychic. This is just the first time I could get you up here.”
The dining room was packed with my brothers and their families, but to my surprise, Lennon peeled away from my side and dipped into the kitchen.
“This smells great, Mrs. Griffith,” she said as she peered over the stovetop.
Nate sidled up to me as I watched Lennon from the dining room.
Momma chuckled. “None of this Mrs. Griffith business. We’re not at the restaurant, are we? It’s Claire or Momma. You choose.”
Across the room, Brooke, Becks, and Cassandra waited with bated breath for Lennon’s answer.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lennon said, throwing everyone off with the evasive answer. “Can I help with anything?”
“I’m always happy to have a hand,” Momma said. “Mind carving that ham for me? If I don’t get food on the table soon, I fear the boys will riot.”
“They can wait,” Lennon said as she wielded a knife and glanced up at me to punctuate the point.
Nate chuckled and elbowed me in the side. “About time.”
Seth, Ray’s son, bolted into the kitchen. “Aunt!”
Lennon lifted her eyebrows as she started to slice through the ham. “What’s up, little man?”
“Cow?”
“Yeah, I saw the cow,” she said. “Did your dad take you down there again?”
Seth nodded.
Lennon cocked her head in my direction. “Tell your Uncle CJ the cow needs a name.”
Ray crowded in beside Nate and me, catching Seth as he bolted for us.
Christian joined us in the doorway and crossed his arms, watching Lennon help my mom put the finishing touches on the meal. “She fits.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Lennon in this place. Lennon in my jacket. Lennon in my family.
“Yeah,” I said as Seth climbed up onto my hip. “She fits.”