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“You're too thin.”

A suspicious sound came from Ash.

“I weigh two hundred and fourteen pounds, Claire.”

“Then you should weigh two hundred and twenty.”

There was no point explaining that this wasn't how professional athletic conditioning worked, because we'd had the same argument for years and neither of us had ever changed our position. Fortunately, Claire finally noticed Ash properly, and the curiosity that immediately sharpened her expression made me briefly wish we'd stayed in Vegas.

I introduced them, explaining that Claire and her husband ran the farm while I was in Denver, and watched her gaze travel from Ash to me and back again.

I knew that look.

“Don't.”

Claire widened her eyes innocently. “I didn't say anything.”

Ash coughed behind his hand, and I decided everyone in my life had become far too easily entertained.

Claire offered him her hand and told him it was good to finally meet him, adding that she and her husband watched every Dragons game even though Luc still shouted instructions at the television as if I could hear him from Colorado.

“I've told him I can't,” I said.

“He believes you aren't trying hard enough.”

Ash shook her hand, smiling. “I think I already like him.”

Claire's gaze dropped toward his side, where the careful way Ash stood probably gave away more than he wanted. “You're the one who got hurt.”

Ash glanced at me. “Is there anyone in Canada who doesn't know about that?”

Claire answered before I could. “Probably not. Come inside. You need food.”

“I ate on the plane.”

“That wasn't food.”

As Claire hooked a hand through Ash's arm and steered him toward the house without touching his injured side, he looked over his shoulder at me for assistance.

I picked up our bags. “Don't fight her. You won't win.”

“I heard that, Maxim.”

“You were supposed to.”

The back door opened again before I reached the steps, and Claire's husband emerged carrying a wrench almost as long as his forearm.

Luc Beaulieu was sixty-six, built like a man who'd spent his life lifting things nobody else thought should be lifted manually, and had been managing farms since before I learned to skate. I'd hired him during my first year here after discovering that growing up on a farm and running a commercial operation of this size were two very different things. I knew horses, fences, machinery, and what a long day of physical work felt like, but Luc understood crop rotations, staffing, production schedules, and the thousand other details involved in making the place actually pay for itself.

Luc had taken one look at the plans I'd made for the property, informed me I was trying to do the work of six people because I'd grown up thinking that was normal, and then proceeded to tell me three things I was doing wrong.

Luc greeted me with a grunt before turning his attention to Ash. “So this is him.”

I nearly dropped the bags.

Claire slapped her husband with the dish towel while Luc looked genuinely confused by everyone's reaction.

Ash's eyebrows had climbed almost into his hair. “Apparently I'm famous.”