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Harry snickered all the way to the dining room. The gathered men broke into a round of applause when they entered with the last of the food.
“Thank you, thank you,” Harry said as she set her bounty down.
Rory placed the bacon between the sausage links and thick slices of ham, then took a bow. His mouth watered at the display of food.
“Grab your plates and fill up,” Ivan told Harry and Rory.
Rory was on the verge of refusing until Harry nudged him. “Better do it,” she said, spearing a piece of ham. “There will be a stampede.”
She wasn’t wrong. Ivan gave the rest of the crew the all clear once Harry and Rory finished. The guys practically knocked one another over to form a line. Ivan didn’t join them right away. He waited at the table and held out a chair for Rory, who just blinked at him for a few seconds before lowering into the seat.
“Aww,” Owen cooed before taking an elbow in the gut from Tyler.
Rory glanced up at Ivan to see if it bothered him, but Ivan seemed fixated on the scrambled eggs on Rory’s plate instead of the shenanigans going on at the buffet. Rory offered his fork, and Ivan accepted. He took a small bite of eggs and closed his eyes while he chewed. Rory recognized that rapturous look on Ivan’s face and averted his gaze before he blushed and gave his thoughts away.
“Get that line moving and save me some eggs,” Ivan demanded before setting Rory’s fork down and getting in line.
Rueben was smiling when he sat across from Rory. “Surprised the big guy didn’t pull rank and advance to the front of the line.”
“Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” Ivan groused.
Owen raised his hand. “I know! I know! Because you—” This time the jab came from Kieran.
“Tough crowd,” Owen teased, rubbing his belly.
Rory was going to wait for everyone else to sit down before eating, but he noticed Harry had already tucked into her food. She met his gaze and gestured toward his plate with her fork. Rory gave in and was glad he did. Everything was perfect. He was halfway through when Ivan returned to his seat. Rory always thought you could learn a lot about someone by observing their eating habits. Ivan was so tidy about everything from the napkin across his lap to the biscuit he’d split into two equal halves. Rory looked at his biscuit in comparison and couldn’t help but smile at his lopsided top and bottom. The top was huge, about three-fourths of the biscuit. The size difference kind of reminded Rory of him and Ivan.
“Would you like some honey?” Ivan asked as he drizzled the liquid over his biscuit.
Rory was usually more of a jam person, but he was eager to taste Ivan’s creations. Rory leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Is that the liquid gold you’ve been telling me about?” he asked.
Ivan briefly met his gaze with a smirk. “The one and only. Best honey you’ll ever have.”
Was that a euphemism for something else? “Can’t wait.”
Ivan handed him the pot shaped like a whiskey barrel and the honey dipper. Rory skipped the butter and drizzled a generous amount of honey onto his biscuit. He noticed the bee and mountain logo on the handle when he replaced it in the pot. He rotated the barrel and saw the same logo on the opposite side.
“Is this how you package your honey for retail?” Rory asked. Ivan had shoveled food into his mouth, so he nodded. “Genius marketing.”
“Ivan designed and made the prototype, which is the one you just used,” Harry said.
“You’re good with wood too?” Rory asked, then realized how that sounded.
Ivan made a slightly choked noise but smiled as he chewed.
“Power and manual tools,” Rueben said. “He can create such pretty art from a block of wood.”
“You whittle?” Rory asked.
Ivan took a drink of orange juice and nodded. “My grandfather taught me when I was a kid.”
Rory smiled. “My grandfather whittled too, but he couldn’t convince my grandmother I was ready to learn.”
Ivan held up his hand and pointed to the scars on his thumb. “The ladies in my life weren’t thrilled with the number of stitches I required until I learned better control and skill.”
“I learned how to play the guitar, though,” Rory said, realizing it sounded like they were on a date.
He looked around the table and noticed all eyes were on them. Ivan didn’t seem remotely concerned about anything but his breakfast, so Rory followed his lead. He was doing well until he bit into the biscuit and tasted Ivan’s honey for the first time. It was sweet and rich, coating his tongue and going down smoothly. Rory didn’t mean to emit a hum that sounded like a moan. Utensils clattered to plates, and Rory jerked his eyes open. He wasn’t conscious of even closing them. The expressions around the table ranged from amused to slightly embarrassed for him.
