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“Rory,” Ivan said.
“Hmmmm.”
“I know you’re going to be massively busy with this new project, but do you think you could schedule some time off in August? I would really like to take you home to meet my mama.”
Tears filled Rory’s eyes and stung the back of his nose. He was grateful for the dark that hid his reaction, but when he blinked, the tears spilled onto Ivan’s chest. Strong but oh-so-gentle fingers eased into Rory’s hair to rub his scalp. “Another first,” Rory whispered.
“For me too.”
“The beauty of my work is that I can film extra segments in advance and schedule their release. I would love to go to Kansas to meet your family.”
They celebrated their plans with a kiss, and the kiss led to wandering hands, which led to lazy sex that took them late into the night. When Rory woke, the sun was high in the sky. He panicked until he saw a note on Ivan’s empty pillow.
You worked late last night, and I thought you deserved to sleep in. I’ll bring breakfast back to you.He’d drawn a heart before scrawling his name under it.
Rory went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before returning to bed. Scruffy had sprawled in Ivan’s spot during his absence, and the tabby cracked open one eye as if to warn Rory that it was too early for petting or cuddling. Fools would not be suffered lightly if they dared to touch the belly. Rory barely resisted the urge but reached for his phone instead.
His heart was in his throat when he checked his email to see if his father had responded. The same heart fell to his stomach when Rory only saw junk mail in his inbox. He blew out a harsh breath and set his phone down. One book he’d purchased from Hope’s store talked about the benefits of a gratitude practice. No matter how difficult the situation a person found themselves in, there was always a reason to be grateful. Focusing on the positive helped shape a person’s approach to the negative things that cropped up during each day.
“Today feels like a good day to start a gratitude practice,” Rory said. Scruffy let out amrrrtsound that sounded like a feline version of a derisive snort. “Okay, I’ll say them to myself.” Though he rolled over and sank his hand into the cat’s soft fur.I’m grateful for Ivan. I’m grateful for Ivan’s cats. I’m grate—
His borrowed phone rang before he could finish his third acknowledgment. This was the first call he’d received since Nick had handed it to him. Since his brother was the only contact programmed into it, just the phone number showed on the caller ID. Rory still recognized it.
With a slight shake in his voice, Rory said, “Hello.”
“Hi, Rory, it’s Dad. I got your email and video this morning. Is now an okay time to talk?”
“Now is perfect.”
There was a slight pause then, Charles said, “I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted you. I let Fossy convince me that no contact would be best for us until the frenzy died down.” Fossy was Gene Foster, Charles’s campaign manager. The man had managed several successful campaigns in the late eighties and nineties, but his approach was as outdated as his wardrobe. Rory had been skeptical of the man from the start, and the feeling had been mutual. It didn’t surprise him at all that Fossy suggested radio silence where Rory was concerned. “But I don’t want to go back to the way things used to be right after your mom died. You needed me, and I was too suffocated by my own grief to notice you were slipping away from me. After I saw your video, I realized the only way to attack this is together. And…I realized you were right about other things. I fired Fossy this morning, and I’m presently looking for a new campaign manager. Know anyone up for the job?” Charles didn’t bother hiding the hopefulness in his voice.
Rory’s chest swelled with love and pride for his father, but he had zero desire to assume campaign manager duties. He broke the news to his dad, but softened the rejection with, “I would be happy to interview some candidates with you and offer the odd piece of advice here and there.” In fact, he already had someone in mind to manage Charles’s campaign. He’d known several political science majors but only one was actively trying to gain a foothold in the uber competitive field. Rory passed the name on to his dad and promised to get his contact information after they hung up.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Charles said. “Hey, Rory.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you rather have an endless supply of ice cream or a plane ticket to anywhere in the world?”
Would You Rather was the game his mother had always played with him when tucking Rory into bed. He smiled because he knew they were going to be all right. “Is it my favorite flavor of ice cream or just ice cream in general?”
Charles laughed. “Your mama’s influence is powerful. She never took my proposals at face value, always probing.”
“You and Mom played this game?”
“Who do you think she learned it from?” Charles countered. “She was gun-shy after her failed marriage to Nick’s father, and I had to take things slow. She assumed I was just another corporate asshole who wanted to sleep with the sexy new secretary. And lord, she was beautiful. Did you know I ran headfirst into a closed elevator door the first time I saw her?”
Rory laughed. “No, she never told me that. What happened after?”
“She just shook her head and walked away. It took me three more days to work up the courage to approach her at her desk. My dad had hired her to replace his secretary after she retired. Your grandfather opened up his office door and shooed me away like I was a fox in the henhouse. The only thing missing was a broom. Apparently, every single man—and probably some married ones too—had stopped by her desk during those first few days. They were interfering with her ability to work, and my dad wasn’t having it. Your mama smiled up at me, albeit shyly, and I knew I couldn’t give up.” Rory heard the smile in his voice when he paused.
“I instituted Would You Rather as a way for her to ask me anything she wanted. Before email, we exchanged questions through interoffice mail. You don’t know how much I looked forward to receiving her questions and answers. When it was my turn to ask questions, she always sent the slip of paper back with quantifying questions, just like you asked. Pretty sure I fell in love with her that first week. I never knew what I was missing in my life until your mama showed up. There were plenty of beautiful women in my inner circle, but not a single one of them ever baked me cookies just because.”
Rory thought of the look on Ivan’s face when he’d baked the kitchen sink cookies. Had that been the beginning of something more for them too?
“And it seems to me you might have met someone special on the ranch,” Charles said. “Your video isn’t the only one I’ve seen. Who’s the big handsome fella that was going to tear that dog-kicking asshole limb from limb?”
Rory bit back a groan. He didn’t want an internet search to ruin the mood he was in. “That’s Ivan, Dad. Ivan Gallagher. You’re probably going to read and see some things about him that concern you, but I promise you he’s the most wonderful guy I’ve ever known.”
