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Ivan cleared his throat and turned his head. Harry was almost back to the car, and he wanted to get one last parting shot in before she returned. “Just a preview of what awaits you tonight.” He dropped his hand from Rory’s body and tucked it into his front jeans pocket. The tips of his fingers brushed over his semierection, and he marveled that such a brief exchange could amp him up.
“Oh, good,” Harry said breezily when she reached the driver’s side. She tossed a Redemption Ridge ball cap to Rory. Between the hat and sunglasses, it was unlikely anyone in Last Chance Creek would recognize him. “The buildings are still standing, and you haven’t melted my car.”
Ivan chuckled but silently downgraded the amount of candy he’d buy her. He turned and headed back toward his office. “Drive safe,” he called over his shoulder.
Harry zoomed past him with a little honk and wave before he reached the solitude of his barn. Ivan forced his attention back to the schematics and prepping for his new queen’s arrival. “I’m trading one high-maintenance obsession for another.”
“Whew,” Harry said as they passed Ivan. She fanned herself for emphasis.
Whew, indeed, though Rory didn’t comment. He couldn’t. The memory of Ivan’s intense expression incapacitated his ability to deflect and bullshit. Rory had to interlace his fingers to keep his hands from shaking.Keep your cool, buddy.
Harry glanced over at his face, then giggled the entire length of the ranch’s long driveway. Rory just smirked and shook his head, unsure of what he should do or say. Once she cleared the gate, Harry gave the convertible some gas and shot down the road. She drove fast enough to turn the landscape into a colorful blur outside his window. Rory pictured her in the summer with the top down and her long red hair blowing in the wind. The sunlight would bring freckles out on her pixie nose.
“Damn, girl. Are you a stunt driver in your spare time?”
Rory knew there was no way in hell she had room for a side hustle. She’d loosely referred to herself as a housekeeper, but he thought Cash’s CEO of domestic operations was more apt. Overseeing the small staff that kept the mountainside manor in pristine condition was only a small part of her daily tasks.
Harry threw her head back and laughed at his silly question. “Just a girl who has one mode: full steam ahead.”
Rory had already figured that out when she rolled out her spring agenda, which encompassed every aspect of the homestead from cleaning to inventory. There wouldn’t be a pantry, refrigerator, or walk-in freezer shelf left unanalyzed. “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t gone into business for yourself,” Rory said. “A restaurant or maybe even a B and B. You have the knowledge, skills, and drive to see it through.”
“Not the capital,” she replied. “And I’m not much of a risk taker, even if I had the money. I have the best of both worlds. Cash gives me free rein so I can live the life of a chef without the financial risk or stress.”
Rory had to admit, she seemed very content. “How’d you come to work for Cash?”
“You don’t believe he met me in jail?” she asked.
“Nope,” Rory replied without hesitation. “You wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
Harry laughed and executed a sharp turn on two wheels. “I answered an ad he’d placed in the local paper soon after we moved to Colorado from Tennessee. How do you know so much about food?”
Rory snorted. “I just love to eat. I grew up around people who excelled at cooking and baking. They were patient and indulged my curiosity when I was young and encouraged it when I was older. My interest in food transformed from preparing and consuming it to figuring out why it binds people. During my travels, I learned that food is a love language every culture speaks. You may not speak the actual language, but you know love and joy when you taste it.”
“That’s beautiful,” Harry replied. “And so very true. We should recreate some of your favorite meals from your expeditions and share them with the ranch,” Harry said. “We could all stand a little culture.”
“Count me in.”
Rory didn’t know where the closest international store was but quickly realized he didn’t need to worry about it. The market in Last Chance Creek was a miniature version of the ones he found in big cities. The vast selections of fruits, vegetables, meats, and pantry staples blew Rory away. Did he attempt true replicas of his favorite meals, or should he try fusions, using unique ingredients to enhance the meals the crew expected? His mind went into overdrive with all the possibilities in front of him. He expected smoke to escape through his ears at any minute.
Harry laughed and hooked her arm around his. “We can stick to my list for now and plan a thorough menu later.”
“I like that idea,” Rory agreed. Let him work Ivan out of his system a little and free up some room in his brain for something besides the sexual positions and maneuvers he wanted to try on Ivan the Hung.
Harry spent a long time in the aisles dedicated to baking, checking out the various chips on hand. “Can’t decide on toffee or chocolate chips for the cookies.”
“I say both,” Rory replied.
She beamed up at him. “I say you’re a genius.”
Rory grabbed a bag each of white, sweet, and dark chocolate and held them toward her to choose from. Harry chose milk and dark, and he put the white chocolate back on the shelf and eased the cart forward. “What are the cookies for?”
“Poker,” she replied.
Rory stopped and arched a brow. “You’re coming too?”
“Honey,” she drawled like a Southern belle, “everyone will be at poker tonight. I know that’s the last thing Ivan wants, so I came up with a strategy.”
He wasn’t too pleased with this news either. “And that is?”
