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Jane and Sandra arrive right on time and immediately take over for me, then finish with the omelets, scrambled eggs, and the muffins. I restack the plates, refill the silverware bin, and then bring out the vat of coffee to the dining area. The three of us work together like a well-oiled machine. While I’m in charge, I never have to micromanage because they know what I expect them to do each day.
We have a list of a hundred different recipes we rotate in and out, and we occasionally throw in new ones to see how people like them. The ranch hands are opinionated but no one has ever hated anything we’ve served. If they have, they’ve kept their damn mouths shut and rightfully so.
We run food out to the burners, and when I look up at the clock, I’m shocked we only have five minutes until breakfast begins. It never fails to amaze me how fast time passes when I’m here.
Dad enters and gives me a grin. “Smells good.”
“Thanks, Mr. Bishop,” Sandra says. I look over my shoulder and give him a big smile.
After everything is set and ready for the breakfast rush, we immediately start making the second and third rounds of food because it’ll go fast. Soon, the dining room is full of chatter. Sandra checks every ten minutes and makes a list of what we need to replenish.
“More sausage and pancakes,” she says at the door. “And coffee, but I’ll get that going.”
Each morning, the three of us do this dance. I usually cook on the flat top, and Jane is at the stove while Sandra makes her rounds to top off the food and drinks.
When I turn my head, my sister and cousin Rowan barge through the kitchen door, chatting about God knows what. Kenzie carries a plate holding an omelet, and she’s stuffing her face.
“What are y’all doin’ here?” I ask.
“Coming to visit you, of course!” Kenzie exclaims, then shrugs. “And eat.”
“Thought we’d keep you company for a little while,” Rowan says with a grin, propping herself up on the counter and swinging her legs back and forth. Though I’m working and don’t need the distractions, I’m glad they’re here so we can catch up anyway. Considering Kenzie is going back to college in a few days, I want to spend as much time with her as I can.
Rowan looks like she’s floating on cloud nine, and I’m so tempted to say something about how annoyingly in love she is with Diesel, but I refrain.
As if she can read my mind, she speaks up. “Bite me.”
“So, how’s the sex?” Kenzie blurts. Rowan and Diesel have been inseparable, and while it’s disgustingly cute, I’m happy for her.
“Kenzie!” I scold, knowing my employees can hear every word we’re saying, but they keep our secrets like vaults. Oftentimes, they’re so focused I forget they’re still in the room. They both have kids a little older than us, so they’re hardly fazed.
“What?” She takes a bite of her omelet. “You were thinking it too. I just care enough to ask,” she states with pride.
I gag, and we all start laughing. Considering the breakfast rush is nearly over, I grab the ingredients to make the homemade rolls for lunch.
“Don’t be a love hater. Someday, Maze…you’re gonna find the one.”
Just the thought of it has me rolling my eyes while I mix, then beat the dough.
“Speaking of which, Diesel and Riley are coming to the bar tonight with the new guy who just got hired. You should come. Kenzie and I are working,” Rowan insists.
“Hells yes, you should!” Kenzie’s face lights up, and she’s way too excited about it. “Stay until after my shift so I can use my newfound drinking freedom to do it legally.” She just turned twenty-one a month ago and takes every opportunity to remind us.
I glance at her. “I’m busy tonight.”
“Doing what?” Rowan asks, doubtful. “Bingeing Love is Blind and shoving dark chocolate into your mouth doesn’t qualify as busy.”
I give her my best death glare, unamused by how right she is.
“But you gotta admit, it’s a train wreck you can’t look away from…” Kenzie says, referring to the show. “Cameron’s my favorite. I’d marry him in a heartbeat.”
“See?” I hold my hand out toward Kenzie. “I need to catch up.”
Rowan doesn’t buy my excuse, though. “You can do it tomorrow. Tonight, you’re coming to the bar! No arguing!”
I plop the dough on the counter, then break it into pieces and roll it into balls. “Damn, I thought getting laid would make you nicer,” I mutter with a smirk.
“Maybe you’re the one who needs to get laid, meanie,” she retorts.
“I definitely need to get laid,” Kenzie adds, and the three of us burst into laughter. I know we’re being loud as hell, but I can’t help it. These two bring out the best in me.
