Chapter Three #2
Ivan stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Ivan. I’m Redemption Ridge’s foreman and—” His words died when Rory’s fingers and palm connected with his.
The dark-haired beauty’s lips parted, and his blue eyes shimmered with awareness.
Ivan felt like an insect beneath a microscope as everyone around them scrutinized their interaction.
Rory took a step closer, tightening his grip as he’d done the first time.
Ivan wasn’t sure if Rory was even aware of the action.
Drop his hand and disengage, idiot. A step back would send him colliding with the hot grill.
Dylan had killed the flames a while ago but shut the lid to keep the meat warm.
Stepping forward would put Ivan in closer proximity to Rory’s heat.
One would physically burn him while the other could scorch the healed pieces of his soul Ivan wanted to protect.
Rory quirked a brow. “You’re also the grill dragon?” he asked when the silence stretched between them too long.
“Not normally,” Dylan said, coming to stand beside Ivan. His best friend leaned closer and whispered, “Turn loose of the pretty man. Let’s feed Rory and welcome him to the ranch properly.”
Ivan flexed his fingers as if that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he forced them to relax and withdrew his arm.
It was quiet enough under the tent to hear a pin drop, and heat crawled up his chest and neck.
Ivan forced his gaze away from Rory to glance around the tent.
The various smirks and grins spread the flush to his face.
Ivan probably looked like a flaming tomato, but he pretended not to notice.
“First pick of meat goes to Kieran to celebrate his exoneration and to Rory as a welcome to the ranch.”
A collective groan echoed around the tent, giving Dylan cover to say, “A hundred bucks says you finish what you started before the night’s out.”
Ivan glared at his friend as he stepped away from the grill so the honorees could grab a plate and choose their food.
If he were smart, he would’ve made an excuse to leave the gathering to find himself some peace and settle his frayed nerves.
Then again, that would just amp up the speculation and betting.
And if Rory sought him out and pushed the boundaries Ivan desperately needed to set?
He feared Dylan was right. He was drawn to Rory in ways he’d never experienced before, not even with his first love. Hell, his only love.
Maybe that’s why he ended up sharing a picnic table with Rory, Kieran, Finley, Harry, Hope, and Gary.
He’d breathed a sigh of relief when Rory sat across from him instead of beside him, but that relief didn’t last long.
His attention kept straying to Rory’s blue eyes and the myriad expressions he witnessed there.
He’d enjoyed seeing his humor and quick wit at work when he bantered with Finley or teased Kieran between bites of food.
His irises shimmered with interest when he discussed grill techniques with Dylan and guessed at the special ingredients Harry had used to enhance the side dishes.
Rory talked to Hope at length about her wellness center and the various classes she offered there.
“I find the concepts interesting and appealing, but I’m not patient enough for yoga or meditation,” he said.
“You just haven’t had the right instructor,” Hope replied with a wink. “Until now.”
Rory didn’t commit to taking classes, but he asked additional questions about the products she created and distributed from the store.
Finley groaned when Hope shifted the conversation from standard hygiene and self-care products to the sexual health aids she made. “Mom, please don’t. It’s his first day here.”
Rory placed both elbows on the table. “Please do.”
Hope happily launched into a discussion about her lubes, Monkey Grease and Butt Stuff, and how they were so much better than the mass-produced products on the market.
Finley seemed to shrink with every vivid description, and Ivan didn’t think his cheeks could get any hotter.
He kept his head down and ate like he didn’t want to test out each of the products with Rory.
Ivan also wanted to tell Finley what a little shit he was for not telling the rest of them about the lube his mom made.
Then again, how would that conversation have gone down?
Ivan met Hope’s gaze and said, “Seems to me you could’ve put samples in the Christmas stockings you make for us every year.”
Hope tilted her head to acknowledge him. “Touché.”
Ivan lowered his head and tucked back into his food while Rory and Gary talked about the state of the housing market and the economy.
Rory’s interests and scope of knowledge were vast, and Ivan was impressed, albeit against his will.
Just when Ivan didn’t think he could eat another bite, Harry and Hope brought out the dessert offerings.
Rory leaned across the table toward him. “Please tell me you don’t eat like this every meal. I won’t be able to fit into my clothes by Sunday.”
Since it was Friday afternoon, Ivan thought that probability was low.
Nick had told Ivan to work Rory like he would anyone else on the ranch, and Rory had pretty much said the same thing.
Ivan had every intention of taking them up on their suggestion.
“Don’t worry,” Ivan said, “I’ll help you burn off the calories.
” Then he realized just how loaded the comment sounded and wished he could take it back.
Rory’s dark brows shot up, and his mouth trembled with obvious restraint. He cleared his throat after a moment and said, “Good to know.”
Christ, he had no idea what he was going to do with Rory.
Did Cash want to go all in and put Rory on the payroll and extend the same perks to him as he did to the others?
And would that be fair? Most of the guys who arrived at Redemption Ridge didn’t have a penny to their names and their worldly possessions amounted to the clothes they wore.
That had been his reality at least. Cash, who’d found himself in similar circumstances decades ago, included clothes and housing as part of the crew’s employment perks.
Would it be fair to extend the same to Rory, whose father was the richest man in Colorado and was in the top ten in the entire country?
Ivan checked himself because he was making a lot of assumptions about a man he didn’t know.
Not your business, idiot. Just find him a suitable job on the ranch and forget about everything else.
“Blueberry cobbler,” Harry singsonged, cutting into Ivan’s thoughts. He sat upright at her announcement. “Any takers?”
Ivan threw an elbow into Kieran’s ribs to keep him from getting to the dessert table first.
“Damn it, Ivan,” Kieran groused, holding a hand to his side. “So much for celebrating my exoneration.”
“Hey,” Ivan said calmly, “you got first pick of the meat. I saw you take the juiciest rack of ribs, so zip it.”
Rory smiled as he watched their bantering but made no move to join the growing line at the dessert table. Something about the curve of his lips twisted Ivan’s insides. Before he knew what he was doing, Ivan said, “Want something sweet?”
Rory’s brow arched upward, and the smile spread. “I’ll take some of that cobbler you nearly trampled Kieran over.”
Ivan grabbed a second plate and heaped on a sizable portion for Rory.
“You took half the dish,” Kieran shouted.
“Who cares as long as he doesn’t eat the triple chocolate brownies,” Dylan hollered from somewhere in the back of the line.
“This body requires a lot of fuel,” Ivan told Kieran as he added a brownie to his plate and Rory’s. “If I know Harry, she has at least two more dishes of cobbler in the kitchen.”
“Three,” she added with a smile. “I take care of my guys.”
Ivan took his time checking over the treats on offer but passed on the other cookies, cakes, and pastries.
“About damn time,” Finley grumbled when Ivan finally stepped aside.
Rory’s smile was huge, and Ivan might’ve added a little swagger to his stride back to the picnic table.
“Must be some cobbler,” Rory said as Ivan set his plate down in front of him.
“The best,” Ivan said. He forked a big bite into his mouth, then stopped midchew. Ivan had thought Harry’s past cobblers were perfection, but this was even better. He looked over at her while he swallowed and caught her smug grin. “You changed your recipe.”
“And I see you heartily approve,” she replied when Ivan immediately went back for more. “Want to guess what’s different?”
“It’s earthier?” Ivan guessed. He thought back to the comment Rory made about some of the side dishes. “You’ve added something savory.”
“Basil,” Rory said. “It’s perfection.”
“How do you know so much about cooking and baking?” Ivan asked. The surrounding conversation stalled, and he knew everyone else was just as curious about the answer.
Rory smiled and lifted another forkful, stopping just shy of his mouth.
“I’ve been blessed to know people with incredible culinary skills.
” He saluted Harry and added, “You rank right up there with the best.” Then he shoved the cobbler into his mouth and emitted a happy little grunt that made Ivan’s dick twitch.
Harry covered her heart. “Thank you for such a lovely compliment. And what of your culinary skills?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I can hold my own. I’m better with flavor profiles than execution, but I think I could sharpen my skills under the right instructor.”
Harry smiled and looked around the tent until she found the person she sought. “Cash!” she called out. The rancher turned from the dessert table with a partially eaten tartlet in his hand.
“Busted,” he said. “I couldn’t wait until I got back to the table. It’s mostly your fault.”
Harry laughed. “I’m not complaining about your etiquette or your offhanded compliment. I want you to make Ivan share Rory with me.”
“Wow,” Rory said. “A custody battle.”