Chapter Six
“I smell something sinful,” Layla said in a sleepy voice as her eyelids drifted open.
“Could be me, though I wouldn’t say sinful. I need another shower.”
She gazed at Avery standing at the foot of the bed, setting a tray on the bench that ran the width of it.
“I’m willing to let the breakfast go cold in order to join you.” She flashed a flirty smile.
“I can wait. You might like this.”
Regardless, he pulled the snaps on his shirt and tossed the material aside.
“I’m confused,” she said. “Are we eating or getting all sudsy in the shower again?”
He chuckled. Grabbed the tray and rounded the bed to her side. She shifted to give him room. He set the tray between them.
“Oh, my.” Layla gasped. “Eggs Benedict over croissants?”
“Freshly baked.”
“And salmon instead of Canadian bacon.”
“Bit of a twist.”
“Plus, potatoes with asparagus spears, heirloom tomatoes, and bacon bits. A mimosa. Yogurt parfait. How you spoil me.” She batted her lashes at him.
He grinned and said, “Figured you might be witherin’ away up here.”
“Just woke, so perfect timing. And a whiskey glass full of wildflowers. Aren’t you just the sweetest?”
“You’re my first overnight guest. Not sure I got it all right.”
Her heart fluttered. “I’d say you nailed it, cowboy. Mind if I devour?”
“Not in the least.”
She cut into the egg first, sampled it, and sighed. “Perfectly poached. And that hollandaise with dill. To die for.”
“Complements the squeeze of lemon. As well as the salmon with chives.”
“Jesus, Avery. You just ... threw this all together, didn’t you?”
“I’ve made it plenty of times, so it wasn’t difficult.”
“And yet it’s five stars all the way.” She set her fork aside. Sipped her mimosa. And added, “I think you’re extraordinary.”
“They’re just eggs, Layla.”
“Be cavalier if you want. I’m not only talking about your breakfast. I’m talking about you, in general. The yogurt parfait would have sufficed this morning. Or some avocado toast. Yet you can’t help yourself. You have to satisfy palates.”
“Isn’t that what gourmet cooking is all about?”
“Sure, in some respects.” She sipped once more, then countered with, “If you were to serve simple fried eggs and sausage patties to the wranglers before the sun rose, would they complain?”
“Well, at this juncture, they’d expect it to be on either a sesame seed bagel or a toasted English muffin, with some melted cheese and a side of grits.”
“Damn, that sounds good. And I think I lost my point. Aside from you being thoughtful and inventive. Not offering status quo.”
“If you’re trying to persuade me—”
“Told you I wasn’t doing that. This is just me appreciating your talent.”
“Thank you for that.”
She took a couple more bites, then realized there was only one fork.
“You’re not sharing with me?”
“I already ate, darlin’. I’m going to take a shower, which is sort of counterintuitive given that I’m gonna make love to you one more time, then drive you into town so that Brodi doesn’t think I’ve kidnapped you.”
“The hardship,” she said, knowing there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes. “Fabulous food and a hot cowboy getting naked with me on a stunning ranch. I’ll for sure tell her not to file a missing person’s report.”
“Be that as it may ...,” he said as he stretched toward her and kissed her. “You do have to be in Cheyenne tonight.”
“Doing what I love best,” she confessed.
He climbed off the bed and proceeded to divest himself of his clothing.
Layla was torn between the enticing view and the scintillating scents from the tray.
Only when Avery disappeared into his bathroom did she continue eating. While sighing and moaning—not just over the breakfast.
She finished her meal as he returned, still dripping wet, the beads rolling along his thick neck, then splashing onto his collarbone and trickling down his chest.
He moved the tray to the bench again. Folded back the covers and slipped in next to her.
“We might need some sort of patch or twelve-step program to curb this addiction,” she said as he pulled her on top of him.
“Only if we’re tryin’ to break the habit, darlin’.”
His words stuck in her head.
While Avery drove her back to town, Layla squirmed in the passenger seat, not finding a comfortable position because her inner thighs burned like she’d just run a marathon and her pussy pulsated with all the memories of being filled.
Christ, she’d always joked about Brodi’s hyperactivity, and yet Layla could barely sit still.
Avery shot a glance her way and asked, “Okay over there?”
She rolled her eyes. “I feel as though I’ve been tased—in a fantastic way by an electric cattle prod.”
“Am I the cattle prod?”
She laughed. “Don’t go getting cocky on me, cowboy.”
“Swear I won’t.”
Layla tried to settle down.
But then Avery went and said, “I am the cattle prod, right?”
“You lit me on fire. Is that satisfactory?”
“Sounds appropriate.”
He pulled in front of the boutique hotel she was staying at and came around to collect her.
She’d snatched up the shirt he’d been wearing when they’d danced, had tucked the ends under, and tied the tails at her waist. Her sparkly top was a bit much for this time of the morning. Plus, she didn’t want to be arriving in a garment she’d left in the previous evening.
Not that wearing a cowboy’s shirt provided a different connotation.
Fact was, she wore it because it smelled faintly of Avery.
She left him at the elevator. Inviting him up would only lead to more sexy times. And she had to get on the road. Also, he needed to head back to the ranch and prep for lunch.
She showered and changed into jeans and a loose tank. Put away his shirt in her bag.
She met Brodi in the small parking lot, ready for the ribbing she was about to get.
“Don’t suppose you brought me a doggie bag,” Brodi immediately chided.
“The hotel has a complimentary breakfast. Guessing you partook.”
“I did. Surprising. That feast last night should’ve fueled me for a day or two, but then I started thinking about what we’re going to experience in Cheyenne with all that bison, and I just couldn’t stop myself from cowgirlin’ up to the buffet.”
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly say no to Avery’s offering this morning.”
Brodi clapped her hands together. “That’s a good one. Did he also cook for you?”
Layla blushed. A new affliction. She rose above it, though, and said, “That’s what I was talking about.”
“Sure, it was.”
Layla slid behind the wheel of the rental car and strapped herself in.
“On a more serious note ...,” Brodi began.
Layla cut her off with a finger and a quick glance her way. Then she started the engine.
“First, we’re not cajoling Avery,” she told her assistant. “Second, what happened between him and me, happened between him and me. I can’t take it back. I wouldn’t if I could. He’s that incredible. But the perspective we need to maintain is that I did my job—and then I did him.”
Brodi exploded with laughter.
Layla smiled. “Well, it was a mutual effort, but you get my drift.”
“Bet it was damn hot.”
“That it was. Although ...” Layla pulled into the light traffic and approached the four-way stop. Waited her turn, then headed out of town. “It wasn’t just steamy sex.”
“Down and dirty?” Brodi asked with hope in her tone.
“Well ... once or twice. Also slow and easy.”
“Good Lord, girl! How many times did you two go at it?”
“I lost count, to be honest.”
“I hate you.” Brodi gazed out the side window. Heaved a breath. Then stared at Layla. “I love you. But I hate you.”
“Please. That sex fest you had in Ruidoso last season makes us all squared up.”
Brodi sighed. “Neither one of us has gotten laid much since the show launched. But an occasional cowboy ringin’ your bell ... that’s just pure sunshine.”
“It’s more than sunshine,” Layla admitted.
Brodi shifted in her seat so she could stare at Layla. “Is it, now?”
“Nothing to be done about it, though, so settle down.”
She took the interstate toward San Antonio. Changed the topic of conversation to their next gig. Played music when that subject ran dry.
She dropped Brodi off at her apartment and then drove to her own. She unloaded her tote bag and assembled a larger suitcase for her coming week, including Avery’s shirt again, despite his scent fading from the material. Didn’t matter. It was symbolic having something of his mingled with her stuff.
After catching up on emails and socials, she departed and picked up Brodi. On the flight to Cheyenne, they discussed the next few legs of the competition, with or without Avery’s participation.
They went their separate ways when they reached the hotel. Layla hung her clothes and took a bath.
She was just about to turn in when her phone jingled. She connected, recognizing the area code.
“Aren’t you resourceful?”
Avery chuckled. “Brodi texted me your contact info, so I’d say she’s the resourceful one. I never gave her my number.”
“That little funny bunny,” Layla said. “She’s playing matchmaker. Though ... I thought we were managing that all on our own.”
“Are we?”
She heard what he wasn’t saying. “I grasp that we’re not quite gelling—at the same time that we’re gelling. Isn’t that weird?”
“Honey, just focus on what you need to accomplish this week.”
“I always do.”
“And let me whisper a few sweet nothin’s to you.”
“That would make my lonely evenings much better.” She removed her robe and slid under the covers. “What would be perfect, however, is if you knew how to video call me.”
“Oh, Jesus. That would require me to ask my nephew Ale, and that would lead to him wondering why I asked, and then he’ll potentially inquire of his mother the need for me to suddenly know how to video call.”
Layla grinned—though he couldn’t see it. “You get all wrapped around the axle over every detail. I actually find that to be thrilling.”
“Pleased I can—”
“But it’d be more thrilling if we had the visual when we’re nowhere near each other.”
“Then I’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe just ask Brodi. She’d happily set you up.”
“That’s one hell of an assistant,” he said.
“And BFF. She knows all my secrets. Keeps them.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he murmured, “I want to know all your secrets.”
“Thought you were going to lull me to sleep with seductive words.”
“I can do that too.”
Her heart constricted. He wasn’t invasive in the least. Layla just had qualms about how much more she should reveal. No, she didn’t expect Avery to sell her story on the street. He’d also keep it to himself, she was sure.
Discretion wasn’t really the issue. Yes, it was important to her. Vital. But she didn’t take him for the sort who’d betray her confidence.
What disturbed her was how he’d react to hearing what she’d gone through.
Even initially having explained to Todd, her college friend and now boss, why he didn’t recognize her or know her new name had been traumatic—for him as much as for her. Then confessing it to Brodi because Layla and Todd accidentally used her identities interchangeably as they were both getting accustomed to her significant alteration. It’d confused the hell out of Brodi to not know if she was Layla Jenson or Tess Billings.
So for now, she told Avery, “Make up a dirty bedtime story for me, cowboy. And we’ll deal with the rest later.”
“Ask and ye shall receive.” Granted, disappointment tinged his deep voice. But he played along. “Tell me what you’re not wearin’, darlin’.”
Avoidance was a tricky beast. Avery had never realized how much so until he’d met Layla. Until they’d both woven a web that was sticky as all get-out because they wanted to know things about each other but were having a hell of a time relaying their own truths.
Avery had started this new journey by discussing his concerns with his brother. Now it was time to branch out to Jack.
On Wednesday morning, Avery fed the cowboys and then drove up to the main house with his own contributions to the family breakfast.
“Excellent timing,” Wyatt said. They were all getting situated at the table when he strode into the large kitchen. “And darned if whatever you brought us doesn’t smell as delicious as what Jack’s cooked up. No offense, Jack.”
Jack shot her a smirk. She laughed.
Avery set the platter with his beef-and-egg breakfast nachos on a trivet and removed the foil. His aunt Brett whisked the potholder rack out of the way so Avery could place his tray of iced strawberry parfait in the center of the table.
“One thing’s for sure,” said Jack’s producer, Garrett Jameson, “we never lack for food around here.”
“Gotta keep the tanks full,” Chance commented. He’d texted Avery earlier, saying he was prepping assignments for his crew so they could hit the ground running after Avery and Ritchie served them; he’d therefore missed the meal Avery had cooked for the bunkhouse.
“You made these nachos just for me, right, Uncle Avery?” This from Hunter, who shared his mother’s blond hair, fair skin, and energy level.
Though his twin brother, Alejandro—who bore the family resemblance of dark hair and blue eyes—was equally spirited.
“You have to share, dummy,” Ale said.
“No name-callin’,” Mateo, their father, chastised. “Neither one of you will get nachos.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Hunt was quick to plead his case.
“I apologize,” Ale begrudgingly told them all. “I knew he was jokin’. I was jokin’ back.”
“Be nicer about it,” his mother said.
“Y’all get started before this goes cold,” Brett instructed. “Well ... ’cept for the dessert.”
Avery took the chair opposite Jillian and grinned at her. “You’re still here.”
“Yeah, about that ...,” she murmured with mischief in her tone.
“We’ve been keepin’ a secret,” Jack chimed in.
Wasn’t that becoming the bane of Avery’s existence?
Farther down the table, next to Garrett, Jillian’s podcast producer, Mindy Vonn, turned giddy with a smile and a glint in her eyes—indicating she knew what this secret was.
Avery’s gaze slid back to Jack, at the head of the table. His recently claimed position, though he’d overseen the ranch since his daddy had passed, when Jack was nineteen—apparently a coming-of-age age around here.
With one phone call from home, Jack had left college, the chance at pro football, land and livestock management economics, and Jillian Parks behind.
Ten years later, he and Jillian had unexpectedly reunited.
Jillian said, “Turns out, I’ve had a terrible time cultivating my new line of hybrid chili peppers for next year’s hot sauces and spicy dry rubs. And I discovered it’s because leaving this ranch was the worst thing I could have done for my creativity.”
“Mm, we’re sayin’ it’s the ranch that brought you back?” Jack’s brow lifted. “Is that right, darlin’?”
A collective laugh rumbled through the kitchen.
“Yes, Jack. All the people.”
“‘All the people’?”
She leaned toward him and smiled charmingly. “You too.”
He chuckled. “Thank you for that, darlin’. I was starting to fear I wasn’t as special to you as I thought I was.”
“Topping the charts, I promise.”
“Y’all stop with the fluffy commentary,” Avery said, “and tell us what’s going on with you two.”
“I’m sticking around a bit longer,” Jillian informed everyone. “Only going back to Seattle to pack up, sell some stuff, and then ... I’ll be living here permanently. As Jack’s wife.”
“Oh, my God!” Wyatt cried.
And then literally cried. As did Brett. Mindy’s eyes misted as well.
“Well, isn’t that just the damnedest,” Avery muttered. Though his aunt heard him and shook a finger at him for cursing.
“I’m not surprised,” Garrett said. “The way you’ve been making audiences swoon and cheer you on. It was too real not to see this coming.”
As hugs ensued, Jack replied, “We didn’t exactly see it coming. Lots of obstacles in the way.”
“All of which you hurdled.” Avery gave his statement consideration. Talk about polar opposites who’d had zero common ground, other than peppers.
And their growing devotion to each other.
That was a sentiment he found intriguing. Jillian’s path had altered as her recovery had changed her life and the way she’d dealt with her previous isolation.
Whereas Avery and Layla’s issues were related to career ambitions. Putting a million miles between them, even when she was in San Antonio for a day or two out of the week. Avery couldn’t drop everything to travel that distance. Couldn’t ask her to do the same when she only had so much time for a turn and burn.
Getting more deeply involved with her would only prove to be disastrous. He knew it in his soul. Was convinced she did too.
And maybe that was why they weren’t being so forthcoming with their darker thoughts.
The cook-off might be fated. But a romance? That seemed a bit of a stretch.
He let those notions percolate as Jack continued.
“We have other news,” his cousin said.
Jillian was already radiant. Now she beamed.
“Keeping this only in the family, within these walls for the time being,” Jack expounded. “But it seems our reckless abandonment has led to me knockin’ up my bride-to-be.”
Another volcanic response from everyone at the table had them on their feet, with tears flowing and more hugs ensuing. Avery joined in with the latter, very carefully squeezing Jillian and congratulating her.
Then he shook Jack’s hand. “You know how to bring home the gold, cuz.”
“To be fair, she came to me.” He winked.
“Whatever. I’m happy for you.”
“And I appreciate that.”
“Shotgun weddin’!” Chance called out as he joined their semicircle.
“That’s been a decade in the making?” Jack countered.
“Yes, but the end result did come about quickly,” Avery reminded him.
“Sure as hell hope the kid looks like Miss Jillian,” Chance said, “without a trace of your ugly mug, Jack.”
Avery roared with amusement. “Dude, we all look alike!”
Chance gave this a moment’s thought, then scowled. “So I just insulted myself.”
“You never were the sharpest crayon in the box,” Avery retorted.
“Hey, now ... what did I just say to my sons?” Mateo asked as he stepped into the lighthearted fray. “Be better examples.”
Avery knew they already were. With the exception of the occasional cussword slipping out.
As he glanced around, he couldn’t help but note that this family was a tighter, more cohesive, and certainly a more tranquil unit when no one was creating drama and trauma. Putting their personal goals and desires above everyone else’s.
That’d been his dad’s problem all along.
And as much as Avery hated to admit this about his own father ... they were all better off without him.
He knew Chance had a valid point that Caleb Reed returning to the TRIPLE R was a long shot—and it’d be made clear before he could pass through the gates that he wasn’t welcome here.
So maybe doing the show didn’t quite warrant his paranoia. Maybe it was just the fact that he and Layla existed on different ends of the spectrum that caused him to drag his feet.
That was a matter to resolve with her. For the moment, he returned to the table with everyone else and polished off the meal.
While his aunt, Wyatt, Jillian, and Mindy cleaned up—with help from Garrett and the twins—Chance went off to catch up with the cowboys and Mateo headed into town on business. Avery followed Jack into his office.
“You don’t usually attend breakfast here at the house unless you have something to discuss,” Jack said, diving right in.
“All’s well at the bunkhouse,” Avery assured him. “Chance would have alerted you otherwise. And Ritchie and I have everything under control with our cookouts.”
“Yet you’re takin’ a chair in front of my desk.” Jack eyed him with interest.
“Indeed, I am. Got something to mention. Make sure you’re comfortable with it before I proceed.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Layla Jenson, would it?”
Avery’s head snapped back. “Chance told you?”
“Nope. I recognized her from Light Your Fire. You think I don’t research BBQ channels so I’m not mimicking anybody?”
“Not a lot of ranches this size have the owner ’cuein’, grillin’, and smokin’ on live streams.”
“Actually, there is plenty of competition. Jillian and her hybrids and sauces add diversity, so that’s helpful. But that’s not what we’re talking about, is it?”
Avery rested a booted ankle on the opposite thigh and clasped his hands at his prized belt buckle. “If you know who Layla Jenson is, and are familiar with her show, then you probably know this season’s theme is for Best Bunkhouse Cook.”
Jack grinned. “Had a feeling that was why she was here on Monday.”
“According to her, there are ten contestants—me included if I agree.”
“Why wouldn’t you agree?” Jack asked.
“Situations.”
“Hmm.” He seemed to mull over Avery’s curt response. Then he said, “From what I’ve seen, they use each cook’s everyday facility as their set. Bring in their own production people. Layla hosts. Doesn’t seem too drastic in terms of our operations. You go about your normal day, and the judges sample and rate the product you produce.”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the complication? That’s your domain, Avery. Between you and Chance figuring it all out, I don’t see where my approval is needed. I’m giving it, but you don’t have to seek it.”
“I appreciate that, Jack. Just a little more to the story ...”
“That being?”
“I don’t want to bait my dad.”
“Ah.” Jack was quick to catch on. As Chance had been. Because it was an eyesore one couldn’t look away from. He said, “I’m confident we can mitigate that risk. We have the resources to keep him off the property. Any other issue?”
“Aside from not wanting Layla Jenson to know anything about Caleb Reed?”
Jack sat back in his chair, nodded his head, and said, “It’s best your dad’s not a factor in our familial equation anymore. While my mom and I do find value with atoning and redeeming, there are some lines to be drawn in the sand. I don’t think any of us would ever believe Caleb is a reformed sinner. It’s a bad thing to say, I will admit that. We’re supposed to accept those who choose to repent. But it’s been eleven years. And I haven’t received a penny toward the enormous chunk of change he stole that almost put us under. I haven’t heard word one from him. No one has.”
“I’m on board with the ‘forgive and forget’ mentality, Jack, when earned. But it’s a fact that if someone is willing to provide reparation, they make an earnest move in that direction. As you said, it’s been over a decade. So if he comes skulking around after I’ve joined the competition, that’s an obvious motivation to heed.”
“We can keep an eye on all of that,” Jack assured him. “If you want to do the show, Avery, do the show.”
“Thing about Layla ...,” he said as he circled back. “She’s got her own issues. I don’t want mine adding to them.”
“You think I have some insight?”
“Jillian didn’t arrive here as a whole person, Jack. But she’s sure morphing into one.”
“That’s not from my assistance alone, Avery. This entire family took her in,” Jack said with conviction—and emotion. “That’s what we do. She faced adversity and powered through. The more she saw we accepted that, the more she opened up to everyone.”
“So you’re telling me to be patient.”
“I don’t know the extent of your feelings, Avery, but—”
“They’re pretty extreme.”
Jack only gave a half smile this time. “That’s a fine line to walk. You want to explore something further, but ...”
“But my life is here on the ranch. Hers is everywhere else ...”
Jack sighed. “I’d contend that geography could be addressed. Truth is, though, I never intended to leave this ranch either. Not even for Jillian. She knew that.”
They stared at each other.
Jack continued. “It’s a jagged pill to swallow, and it might even sound chauvinistic. That’s not what it is at all. I have a legacy to protect and people to provide for.”
“As do I.”
“Well, ten years later with Jillian—”
“Ten years?” Avery shook his head as his gut clenched. “Layla will have been to dozens of ranches. Might have even gone global. There’s no way in hell this woman is single ten years from now. I can’t believe she’s single today.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What are you really getting at, Avery?”
He groaned. And confessed, “That I already know the ending to this story. Not how the competition will work out. But how me and Layla will. And ... I don’t know ...” His eyes rolled upward. “I saw you after Jillian drove away. Seemingly for good.” He released his hands at his waist. Sat forward. Pinned his cousin with an intent look. “Wasn’t a comforting sight, Jack.”
“And you’d prefer to nip whatever this is with Layla in the bud to save yourself.”
“To save her too.”
Jack took a few moments to digest this. His eyes darkened in color. His expression turned shrewd.
Avery grew wary. Jack was going to say something profound and implore Avery to consider every possibility. Avery wasn’t quite sure he could navigate those waters.
He’d never met a woman who’d dug her nails into him so deep, so fast. The hold Layla had on him was palpable ... and predictable. At least, the outcome was predictable.
Jack also sat forward and rested his forearms on his desk, tapping a couple of fingers against his brown leather blotter.
“The suspense is sucking the life out of me,” Avery drawled.
Jack gave a wry laugh. “Yeah. That’s the thing about scenarios such as this.”
“How fucking common are they? I don’t know squat about what I’m feeling, Jack, but if this is love at first sight ... I’m screwed.”
Jack slowly nodded his head. “On the surface, yes.”
“To my core, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes widened.
Avery’s gaze didn’t falter. “I took one look at her, felt a jolt in my gut, swore off engaging with her in my head, and then proceeded to invite her to my home.”
Now Jack grinned. “You realize that says it all? You’ve never had a woman at that house.”
“I’ve never had a woman on this ranch, period. I don’t bring my occasional flings here. These are—”
“Sacred grounds.”
“In our sense of the word, yes.”
Jack let out a sharp exhale. “People make long-distance relationships work all the time, Avery. Not a new concept.”
“Yeah? Were you and Jillian planning to date long distance? How do you think that would’ve worked out for the two of you? You in particular, an all-or-nothing sort of man? Oh, wait. I just answered that question for you.”
Jack glowered. “I never believed there’d be a simple solution, Avery. And, yes, I was miserable every day she was gone from this ranch, from my bed. But I have an obligation here, so I powered through.”
Avery continued his stare down. Bit the bullet. And demanded, “Did you know she’d come back to you? Somewhere in your heart or soul, Jack. Did you know?”