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“I’m Rory.”
“Don’t worry about Ivan. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Rory smiled for the first time since Nick had bid him to stay in the kitchen and let the grown-ups talk. Maybe he hadn’t uttered those exact words, but his tone had implied it, and Rory would still be pissed if not for the opportunity to get to know Ivan better. “Let’s hope not,” he said. “See you around, Kieran.”
Rory ambled in the direction Ivan had gone, not bothering to hasten his steps. The sexy ginger would be hard to miss. He pushed open the front door and nearly walked into a gorgeous blond guy with green eyes. Christ. Were they all gorgeous on the ranch? This guy looked like a model with his square jaw and sharp cheekbones.
“Oh, hello,” the man said in a soft Southern drawl. “I was looking for Kieran.”
Rory noticed Ivan’s long strides had created an enormous gap between them, so he didn’t stop to introduce himself. “In the kitchen,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Rory lifted his hand to wave and continued his slow and steady gait. Ivan headed into the original homestead, so he detoured to Nick’s car. Rory wanted to grab his bag and guitar before his brother could speed off with his stuff or toss it onto the driveway in his haste to leave his little brother behind. The bag felt awfully light for an indefinite stay, and he wished he’d asked more questions before he packed. Nick had stormed into his condo that morning and demanded he pack a bag in thirty minutes, and Rory had been too rattled after the previous night’s close call to ask much. He’d pulled down his Louis Vuitton weekender bag and shoved a week’s worth of clothes inside along with a shaving kit packed with personal hygiene products and his skin care and beard regimen. Looking as pretty as he did wasn’t cheap or easy. He’d added his laptop, recording equipment, and grabbed his prize possession—his granddaddy’s guitar. He’d been meaning to relearn how to play it, and hanging out on a ranch seemed like the perfect setting.
Rory felt the attention of everyone gathered under the tent as he continued toward the smaller home. He was used to the scrutiny and didn’t let it ruffle his feathers. Rory would allow them to do a lot worse than stare if they shared whatever food was putting out the delicious aroma tickling his senses. He briefly debated heading toward the tent to introduce himself and curry favor with the grill master but followed his dick instead of his stomach.
When he reached the old house, Rory wondered if he should knock first or open the door. Ivan, though sexy, wasn’t the least bit hospitable or welcoming, so he let himself inside the residence. His Viking stood in the center of a tidy if outdated but comfortable-looking living room. The place screamed bachelor pad with the mismatched brown furniture, but the couch facing the fireplace looked like a fabulous place to curl up and read a book. Ivan had struck a power pose with hands on hips, chest out, and shoulders back as he waited for Rory’s full attention.Not a conqueror, my ass.Three cats sat at his feet, staring up at him like he was the next coming of Christ, and Rory understood their worship.
“Who are your little darlings?”
Ivan looked at the cats, who all chorused a pleadingmeow.“It’s not dinnertime,” he told them. The felines replied with a protest and all rose on their hind legs to place their front paws on his legs. “Spoiled brats.” Ivan leaned down and scratched a tabby cat behind its ears. “This is Scruffy.” He moved to the butterscotch-colored cat next and smoothed his hand over its back. “This is Candy.” Aptly named. Ivan leaned down and picked up a small black and white cat. “And this man is Tux.” He scratched the little guy under his chin before gently setting him back down. He opened the arm rest of a brown recliner, pulled out a pouch of treats, and doled out a few to each of the cats. Christ, could this man get any more delicious? Once they were occupied and the treats stowed once more, Ivan turned his attention back to Rory. “We need to get something straight.”
“Yes,” Rory agreed. He dropped his Louis Vuitton on a corduroy club chair and gently set his guitar case down on the rustic woven area rug. “What do I call you if conqueror and Daddy aren’t permissible options?” The big man’s cheeks turned red again but not quite dark enough to signal an impending stroke. He probably should’ve eased up on the guy, but high emotion tended to entice his inner brat to the surface. Rory’s stress eased a little more with each reaction he evoked from this yummy man. “I’ve started thinking of you as Ivan the Ripped.” Rory quirked a brow to encourage a response but only received a scowl in return.God, who knew that could be so sexy?“Okay, that’s a no. How about sir?”
“No,” the big man growled. “Just call me Ivan.”
“Mr. Gallagher if I’m nasty?”
Ivan didn’t show if he recognized the Janet Jackson reference. Maybe he wasn’t as obsessed with the ’80s radio station on Pandora as Rory was. His mama had loved the era and always played music while working in the kitchen. Ivan pivoted and walked away, not offering an explanation or even a simplekiss my ass. He disappeared down a hallway between the kitchen and the staircase to the second story. “Come.”
Ivan’s soft voice gained some grit and gruff when irritated, and it was so sexy Rory pressed the palm of his hand to his lengthening dick. “Easy boy. We’ll replay that when we’re alone later.”
Rory inhaled deeply and sauntered after Ivan. The big man was easy to find since there was only one room with a light on at the end of the hall. Room was a stretch. The space was half the size of his closet back home. There was barely enough room for both him and Ivan to be in there at the same time. The oak-paneled walls, planked floors, and ivory ceiling provided either a dull backdrop or a clean palette, depending on a person’s opinion. Rory couldn’t decide which direction he leaned. The patchwork quilt on the double bed reminded him of the ones his grandma, Eustice Stuart, had sewn by hand until arthritis made it impossible. In fact, the small room reminded him of the one he shared with Nick during the summers spent on their grandparents’ farm in Oklahoma. Rory immediately thought of nightly cricket serenades through open windows as he drifted to sleep. He didn’t want to think about those happy childhood memories because they made him pine for things he would never have again. Instead, Rory wanted to create a new collection with the gorgeous hunk staring a hole in his head.
He turned and met Ivan’s gaze, catching the smug smirk on his face before he wiped it off. Did he expect Rory to be a diva and pitch a fit to demand better lodgings? What the fuck had Nick said to him during their brief meeting? It had to have been bad to make this guy yell like he had. In his heart, Rory knew Nick was trying to do the right thing by him, even if his actions seemed a tad extreme. Then he remembered the man who’d come after him, his face contorted with rage and spittle foaming at his mouth as he hurled nasty slurs at Rory. The dude expected Rory to back down and run, but that wasn’t his nature. Rory had returned the volley of insults, and the fight was on. Ducking blows was one thing, but a car chase was something entirely different. A cold sweat broke out on Rory’s forehead, ratcheting up his brattiness to higher levels.
Ivan continued to watch him with rapt attention. Bitching about his lodgings and proving Ivan’s assessments right would not get him what he wanted. And what he wanted was for his Viking to make him forget all about the madness that existed outside the ranch. He needed to poke the bear and make him uncomfortable enough to shed his reservations and join Rory on the dark side, or… He glanced at the bed again and noted an old metal frame supported the mattress. Would it be sturdy enough to support both of them, or would they need to retreat to Ivan’s room?
Rory leaned over, set both hands on the mattress, and gave it a few pushes to test the bounce and stability of the bed. He felt amber eyes boring into his backside and played it up. “Soft yet firm,” Rory said. He pushed the mattress harder and smiled to himself when he didn’t hear a single squeak. “Quiet and sturdy. Unlike the ones from summer camp. Thank goodness. Do you know how hard it is for a teenager to seduce his summer crush on one of those squeaky-ass things?” Rory shivered hard. “Bunk beds to boot, but one makes do to get the things he wants.” He straightened up and faced his Viking. “And I always get what I want.”
Ivan swallowed hard.Score one for the brat.“You went to summer camp?” he asked.
“Is that really the question you want to ask me, my liege?”
Ivan emitted a sexy little growl from his throat, followed by a cleansing breath. “What will it take for you to call me by my given name?”
Rory smiled seductively and took a few steps forward. Ivan’s eyes widened because there was nowhere for him to go, and Rory could hear his gears grinding as he debated just how far Rory would take things.Ivan was several inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier. He’d have no issues shaking Rory loose, but that wasn’t what Rory wanted. When Ivan put his hands on him—and Rory was determined Ivan would—he wanted them to hold Rory close, not push him away.
What Rory truly wanted wasn’t something he could buy, coerce, or seduce from Ivan. Though he struggled to put a name to his deepest desire, Rory needed it granted freely and wholeheartedly. So he stopped his forward advance before their bodies touched. “There is something you can do for me.”
Ivan chewed on his bottom lip as his amber eyes darkened to the color of a hot toddy, and damn, Rory wanted to drink him down. “Name it.” The words sounded like someone had torn them from his soul. Ivan’s eyes widened as if they came as a surprise to him too. His lips parted, and Rory knew he was seconds away from retracting his response or replacing it with a reaction that wasn’t as genuine.
“Treat me like you would anyone else who comes to work on the ranch,” Rory urged softly. “I don’t know what Nicky told you about my situation, but it’s obvious you’ve drawn some conclusions about me.” Rory offered a wry smile before continuing. “Truth is, I’m probably worse than you’ve imagined, but I am not a freeloader. I pay my own way.”
Ivan’s eyes widened, and it was hard to say which one of them was more surprised by Rory’s confession. That wasn’t at all what he’d planned to say, but there was a softening around the big man’s features that encouraged Rory to dial back the attitude and reveal a little more. He opened his mouth and more words tumbled out before he could stop them. “You don’t like me, and I get it. Take a number and get in line. Hell, I’m pretty sure I can’t stand myself at the moment. But maybe give me a fair shake. I might surprise you.”And maybe even myself.
Ivan remained silent as he held Rory’s gaze, making it impossible to miss the spark of emotion in Ivan’s amber eyes. Rory had this eerie sensation that Ivan read him better than anyone he’d ever met, including the brother he adored. The notion was ludicrous, but it still rang true and unsettled Rory in ways he couldn’t explain. He probably would’ve reverted to bratty behavior to reestablish boundaries if a vibrating noise hadn’t caught him off guard.
