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“Put them in a sugar coma so they won’t stick around long,” Harry replied.
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Harry winked and said, “I have a backup plan. Have no fear.”
“You’ve piqued my interest,” Rory said. “Do tell.”
The grin Harry aimed his way was downright cheeky. “Oh, you’ll know when I deploy it.”
Laughing, Rory said, “When? Don’t you meanif?”
“I mean what I say and say what I mean, love,” Harry replied. “Though my baking skills are legendary on the ranch, I believe the chemistry sparking between you and the big guy outshines even my talents.”
“I love your well-earned swagger,” Rory said. He thought she was teasing about the latter part of her statement, but Harry’s stone-cold sober expression said otherwise.
“Are you prepared for that level of scrutiny?” she asked.
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Harry said. “Would you care to guess whose sweet tooth is as big as the rest of him?”
“You’ve seen the rest of Ivan?” The words were out before Rory could clamp his smart mouth shut. “Sorry,” he said, tightly gripping the shopping cart so he didn’t fall into the trapdoor that opened straight to hell. Would he at least have time to pass go and collect two hundred dollars first? He had staples to buy before his extended stay like moisturizer to keep his skin from drying out in the heat and booze for cocktails. According to the zealots, any person with a spark of creativity or personality would burn in hell for all eternity. And every good gay knows you don’t arrive at a party empty-handed. Harry snorted, and it snapped Rory back from his ambling thoughts. If he had a dime for every time a teacher commented on his lack of attention, he’d have blown his fortune on booze and boys a long time ago.
“Do I even want to know where your mind went just now?” she asked.
“I’d like to say I was racking my brain for a good cookie recipe to make for Ivan. Just because and for no other reason,” he added when Harry smirked.
“But you don’t want to lie?”
“That’s right,” Rory said. “But now I’m thinking about cookies for Ivan.” He narrowed his eyes and cycled through some of his favorite recipes from over the years. “He seemed to really like the touch of savory in his blueberry cobbler yesterday. I bet he’d equally enjoy a salty and sweet combo.” The perfect recipe came to him. “Kitchen sink cookies.”
Harry arched a brow. “Not sure I’ve heard of those.”
“You throw in everything but the kitchen sink. It’s about texture combinations as much as flavors.” It was one of his mama’s favorite recipes.
“Sounds fun.”
“Does Ivan like coconut?” he asked.
“Yes, but he’s probably the only one besides me.”
Rory added the smallest package of coconut flakes to the cart, but Harry swapped it out for the largest bag.
“A big man eats a lot of cookies.”
They doubled back and added more chocolate to the cart. White chocolate was hit or miss with most people, but the naysayers usually didn’t like it because it was so much sweeter than its cousins. The macadamia nuts, dried cranberries, and pretzel bits would counter the sweetness of the triple chocolate chips he used.
“I have never been so excited to try a cookie before in my life,” Harry said when they loaded the groceries in the trunk of her car. “I think you might be hazardous to my waistline.”
“Nah,” Rory scoffed. “I’ve seen your to-do list, remember?”
The next stop was a diner in the center of Main Street. Last Chance Creek was a charming town, a throwback to a different era but thankfully one with electricity and running water. Hope was already seated inside. She waved to them from a vinyl booth overlooking the bustling street. Whatever was happening there captured Hope’s full attention and caused her to glower out the window. The feisty woman practically vibrated with tension.
When they arrived at the booth, Rory followed her line of sight and noticed a large gathering of people dressed in simple, old-timey clothes. The women wore simple dresses in drab colors and the men wore white shirts and equally boring pants. In the center of the group, a white-haired man stood on something that elevated him above everyone else. He lifted a leather book in one arm, and Rory assumed it was a Bible. “Are those people actors?” Rory asked, then forced his gaze back to Harry and Hope, who sat across from him.
Harry snorted. “Kieran thought something similar when he arrived last year. He thought it was a reenactment for tourists.”
“It’s not?” Rory asked.
