Chapter 12
Twelve
Remi
“Who all will be there?”
“Gentry, for sure. He’s the owner and my best friend’s dad.
Hollis may or may not be there. He and Ford, his fiancé, went fishin’ this morning, so I’m not sure if they’ll be back yet.
And we might run into Finn, Hollis’s brother, too.
” I glance at Lukas in the passenger seat of my truck, noting his bouncing knee and his hands clasped together in his lap as he picks at the skin around his thumb. “Don’t worry, they’re all really nice.”
We’re on our way to Gentry’s so he and Lukas can meet before Lukas starts spending time over there and helping out. I know he’s excited because he’s been counting down the days, but he’s also nervous. These are all new people to him, and I want him to be comfortable.
“Do they all live on the ranch?” he asks.
I nod. “They do. But not all together. There’s multiple properties on their land.”
“That’s kinda nice, havin’ their family close by.”
“Yeah, it really works for them. I’m sure it wouldn’t work for all families, but they’ve always been pretty close-knit.”
“And you’ve known them for how long?”
“Hollis and I have been friends since elementary school, so I’ve known the family just as long. Practically grew up on that ranch.”
I park in front of the barn once we get there, and Gentry is out of his house and down the stairs by the time we’re out of the truck. My mouth waters as I take him in.
Gentry isn’t a small man by any means. His six-foot-four stature has him towering over almost anyone he meets—he’s got at least a couple of inches on both his kids.
He’s wearing a pair of light-wash Wranglers that fit him like a glove, a faded pair of brown boots, and his red and black flannel hugs his broad chest and huge arms in a way that makes my mouth water.
The sleeves are rolled up, revealing the delicious, corded veins running along his forearm.
Tipping his tan hat as he approaches us, Gentry says, “You must be Lukas, son.”
“Uh, yes, sir.” Lukas’s voice is shaky, and I wish I could take some of the jittery nerves away from him. Extending his hand toward Gentry, he says, “It’s n-nice to meet you, sir.”
A chuckle rumbles from Gentry’s chest as he shakes Lukas’s hand. “Enough of that sir stuff. You can call me Gentry.”
“You should feel special,” I drawl, glancing at Lukas before shifting my gaze to Gentry. “It took years before I got to switch from Mr. Moore to his first name.”
Lukas chuckles, but Gentry doesn’t look amused.
His jaw pops as he scowls at me. It’s been a week since the private pottery lesson, and just as long since I’ve seen him.
He left in a hurry that night, but I’ve replayed the whole lesson a hundred times over in my mind, switching back and forth between thinking he felt the supercharged energy between us, like I did, and thinking I made it all up in my head.
The latter, honestly, is more believable, but I refuse to let go of the former.
I swear, it wasn’t all in my head. My hands on his at the wheel, the way his breath hitched, the way he looked at me…
He’s never looked at me like that before.
I desperately want to get him alone and test that theory, but the odds of getting him back in that studio are slim to none.
I’m still shocked he came back in the first place.
Gentry doesn’t bother responding. Instead, he focuses his attention on Lukas. “You want a tour?” he asks. “Can take ya out to see the cattle, if you’d like.”
“Really?” Lukas’s eyes brighten. “That’d be awesome!”
A smile splits my face, and my chest warms at the excitement in his voice.
Gentry leads us into the barn first, showing Lukas where everything is, including his makeshift office space where he handles all the paperwork.
After that, he brings the side-by-side around to the front of the barn, and the three of us pile in before he drives around the property.
He points out Finn’s and Hollis’s houses, the cabins, and the creek before finally driving over to the pasture the cattle are grazing in today.
“Remington mentioned your grandfather worked on a farm,” Gentry murmurs to Lukas as we stop in front of the fence. The cows aren’t so far out that we can’t see them, but they’re not close enough to talk to or pet them either.
“Yeah, he did.” Lukas nods. “It was a dairy farm. That’s not what this is, right?”
“No, son, we don’t run a dairy operation here. It’s all beef here. Angus, mostly.” Gentry hooks his thumbs in his belt, nodding toward the pasture. “Those are our mama cows. Calves are born out here in the spring. Best place for ’em. Wide open space, fresh, clean air.”
Lukas squints as he looks at the cows, the sun in his eyes. “Do you name them?”
Gentry chuckles, deep and throaty. It’s a rare sound from him, but one I love to hear. “Rule number one: if you start namin’ the cattle, you’ll never get any work done.”
“’Cause it would make it harder to slaughter them?” Lukas asks.
“That’s part of it.” Gentry nods once. “Gettin’ attached is never a good idea. This ain’t a pet; it’s a business. These cattle ensure I keep a roof over my head.”
“This ranch been yours a while?”
I can’t help but smile at Lukas’s curiosity.
“Boy, this ranch has been in my family since long before I was born,” Gentry explains to him as we climb back in the side-by-side.
“My great-great-granddaddy settled here many, many years ago. Started with a big dream, a handful of cattle, and a whole lot of stubbornness. It wasn’t easy, but with each generation, we added a little more to the land—and the dream. ”
Gentry keeps one hand on the wheel while he gestures to the pasture. “My granddaddy used to tell me when I was just a boy that the land doesn’t belong to us, any of us, but instead, we belong to it. We take care of it, and in turn, it takes care of us.”
I listen to the way he speaks, steady and patient, and the way he admires the land and all that occupies it.
Pride radiates from him. And he has every reason to be a proud man.
Not a lot of folks can do what he does, for as long as he’s done it.
Living in rural Texas, we hear a lot about ranches going under, banks seizing farms. Ranching is a hell of a lot of work, and the reward isn’t always abundantly great.
But Gentry didn’t get to where he’s at by a stroke of luck.
He and his kids—and all the family that came before him—busted their ass, day in and day out, pouring blood, sweat, and tears over every inch of this land.
“You work with the cattle on your grandfather’s farm?” Gentry asks Lukas.
“Yeah, a little bit. Helped out around the farm too.”
“That’s great.” Gentry smiles. “I’m of the opinion that everybody ought to know where their food comes from at least once in their life. And gettin’ your hands dirty and learning the value of hard work is good for you.”
Lukas grins. It’s full and unguarded, and it hits me right in the chest.
“You’re welcome here any time. Ranch could always use a little more noise around here.”
His gaze widens. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
We make it back to the barn right as another Moore man joins us.
“Who’s that?” Lukas quietly asks me as we climb out of the side-by-side.
“That’s Finn,” I say, pointing to the man wearing an identical scowl to Gentry. “And the guy beside him is his husband, Ash. The little boy is their son, Tucker, and the big ol’ land seal running toward us with his tongue hangin’ out of his mouth is Bubba.”
Lukas chuckles. “I’ve never heard a pitbull called a land seal before.”
“I mean…the resemblance is spot on, right?”
“Yeah, I can definitely see it.” Bubba runs right up to him like they’re old friends, and Lukas immediately kneels down, petting him while he tries to lick his face. “He’s so cute.”
“He’s really friendly,” Tucker says excitedly as he stops in front of Lukas. “Cuddly too. Sleeps with me all the time.”
“You’re lucky,” Lukas says, the widest grin I’ve ever seen him wear plastered on his face. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“I want another one, but my dad says no.”
“Hey, I’m workin’ on it,” Ash says as he kneels so he’s eye-level with the boys. “He’ll be convinced in no time.”
“I heard that,” Finn drawls, staring down his nose at his husband. He feigns annoyance, but the love in his eyes is undeniable. “It ain’t happenin’. We have enough pets to last a lifetime. Y’all just brought home another six chicks last week. No more animals.”
Ash and Tucker look at each other for a moment before saying in unison, “Fun sucker!”
“Yeah, Dad, don’t be such a spoilsport,” I tease, nudging the oldest Moore son with my elbow.
“You keep your mouth shut,” he says. “You get a dog, then Tucker can come visit?”
“Yeah!” Lukas blurts out. He’s now sitting on the gravel while Bubba lays sprawled out with his head in his lap. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Ash chuckles. “Look what you started, babe,” he says before glancing at Lukas. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Ash.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lukas.”
“And I’m Tucker. I’m seven. How old are you?”
Lukas smiles warmly. “I’m thirteen.”
“Whoa, a teenager! How cool.”
“I like your shirt,” Lukas says, gesturing toward Tucker’s Pokémon print tee. “Do you collect cards?”
“Does he ever.” Ash snorts.
“I swear, those two come home with more cards every single time they leave the house,” Finn mutters. “They have more cards than they know what to do with.”
“We started collecting about a year ago, but you should see his collection,” Ash says. “In fact, wanna come with us to the house right now?”
“I-I’d love to.” Glancing at me, Lukas says, “Can I?”
“Of course, you can.”
“Yes! Thank you, Remi.”
“No need to thank me, kid. Go, have fun. I’ll swing by and pick you up in a bit.”
I watch him walk up the hill with Finn, Ash, and Tucker, smiling at the way Bubba stays glued to his side.
Well, this went well.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I turn toward Gentry, amused that we’re now alone. His shoulders are tense, and he’s still wearing a scowl. It’s fucking hot.
“Thanks for showin’ him around.”
“Happy to do it,” he murmurs. “Seems like a great kid. Eager to help.”
“The beginner pottery classes restart in a couple weeks. Am I gonna see you there?”
Gentry regards me with a furrowed brow and pinched lips.
“Bet your doctor is thrilled you took his advice, huh?”
“I’m not goin’ back,” he grits out. He’s so annoyed, and I have to bite back a grin.
“That’s what you said the first time,” I point out.
“Yeah, well, I mean it this time.”
“Why’s that?” I tilt my head to the side, the corner of my mouth lifting. “What’re ya so afraid of?”
Gentry clenches his jaw and heaves a sigh. “I’m not afraid of anythin’. I’m just not interested.”
He’s referring to pottery, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s a double entendre. Like, he’s also referring to the tension I felt between us. Maybe it’s his way of letting me know he isn’t interested in me. But if that’s the case, a big part of me wonders if he’s lying.
“You sure about that, Daddy Moore?”
“How many fuckin’ times do I gotta tell you to quit callin’ me that?”
“Wanna know what I think?” I step closer. Not by much, but enough to make his breath hitch.
“What I want is for you to take your ass home. Or to Finn’s. Anywhere other than buggin’ me.”
Ignoring him, I say, “I think you like it.”
He huffs. “I can assure you, I do not like you buggin’ me, Remington.”
“You know, you’re the only one who calls me that. Even my mom calls me Remi, unless I’m in trouble.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “And I wasn’t talkin’ about that. I think you kinda like it when I call you daddy. And I think you like it when I flirt with you.”
I don’t know where this came from, and I’m well aware I’m playing with fire, but after the vibe I got from him last week, I can’t not say something. Even if he rips me a new one for it.
“That’s absurd,” he growls, sending a shot of heat down my spine.
A grin curves my lips. “I don’t think it is. Maybe you haven’t always liked it, but I definitely think you do now. At least a little. It’s okay, though. I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”
“You’re outta your goddamn mind. I’ve got shit to do, so if you’d excuse me…”
That’s all he says before he storms inside his house. I watch him go, a shit-eating grin on my face the whole time. Gentry may have tried to appear unfazed, but the red on his cheeks gave him away.
I was right… I didn’t make it up, and it wasn’t one-sided.
The question is, how do I get him to admit to that?