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“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.”
Cash arched a brow as he chewed the second half of the tartlet, leaving a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. Ivan gestured to his own mouth, and Cash wiped the chocolate off with his thumb, then licked the cream from the digit before giving Harry his attention again. “And how does Rory feel about that?”
“Sounds great to me,” he replied. “I’ll go wherever I’m needed.”
Ivan should’ve been relieved that Rory wouldn’t be constantly underfoot. Living in the same house would be hard enough. But elation was the last thing he felt when Harry whisked Rory off to give him a tour of her operations. His annoyance grew when Finley and Kieran sat on either side of him like bookends and Dylan slid down the opposite bench to take Rory’s vacated seat.
He looked over at Finley and Kieran. “Do you mind?”
They rolled their eyes and scooted over a few inches. “Better?”
“Don’t you two have kissy faces to make at each other somewhere else?” Ivan asked.
“Not until you tell us the scoop on the new guy,” Kieran said.
Ivan shook his head. “You’re getting as bad as Tyler and Owen. Bunch of damn nosy church busybodies.” His gaze strayed back to Harry and Rory, who had nearly reached the ranch house. Harry was laughing at something Rory said, and seeing him fit in did funny things to Ivan’s insides. Then he recalled Rory’s confession that he couldn’t stand himself. “Just be nice to him, okay?”
“Like you were with me?” Kieran asked.
Ivan leveled him with a dark look. “How many times do I need to apologize for our rough start?”
Kieran shrugged. “At least once more it seems.”
