Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

“ C ome on, Sophie, get it together.”

Nathan knew how hard this was. This was the first time the teenager had dealt with wait staff who had worked with other chefs in a commercial kitchen space. Had dealt with the fact that there were at least twenty-five million people out there who were eating like they’d never been served a meal in their entire lives.

The kitchen brigade was refilling plates as fast as they could, and still the wait staff was coming back with, “The bosses say we need more food.”

They’d served the egg rolls, the brisket nachos. The shrimp. The chicken. The ceviche. The meatballs.

It wasn’t going to be long before they were reduced to cheese on Ritz crackers. Not even good cheese.

Not even pimento cheese.

Just like processed cheese food out of a plastic wrapper slapped on it.

No, not even Ritz crackers. Saltines.

Plastic cheese, saltines, and, if the sons of bitches were lucky, an olive.

“I’m sorry, it’s just everything is moving so fast.” Sophie was trying, but there had been more than one round of tears already. And Nathan was losing his patience.

Nathan took a deep breath. Let it out. Then he took another one. Just to be, you know, sure nothing that was going to come out of his mouth would get him fired, get him beat up or get him put on the Gordon Ramsay scale of asshole. “You’re fine, girl. Just breathe. You’ve got this. We got to find something to make more food out of.”

“Right. Okay. Yes.”

Luckily there were cowboys out manning the grills, so there were burgers. There were hot dogs. There were ribs. There was sausage. All of the main food had been taken care of and the sides were on the buffet line.

The problem was the VIPs.

Somehow, a small VIP section of ten to fifteen had become a gigantic VIP section of anywhere between seventy-five and seven hundred thousand, and they were trying to make up the difference.

God help him if one of the bosses walked in right now.

“We’ve got chicken breasts thawed. There’s hamburger meat. There’s steak. We’ve got peppers, onions, some kind of a fajita thing, maybe?” Sophie offered.

“For an appetizer, okay, okay, thank you. That’s not bad, Sophie. That’s not bad.” He closed his eyes. Okay, fajitas. Fajitas appetizer. Think man. Think fajita appetizer. Could you make fajitas on a stick?

Sophie’s fingers flew on her phone. “Do we have potatoes? There’s a recipe here for fajita potato bites. Or fajita-filled wontons.”

“Oh! We have wonton skins. Okay. Prep mode. You chop onions and peppers. I’ll run the chicken out to the guys on the grill. It will be done in a flash out there.”

Ames chose that moment to poke his head through the door. “What can I do to help?” He wore a bandana under his hat to catch sweat because he’d been on grill duty.

“Oh, thank God.” Nathan threw his arms up in the air. “You are a savior. Chicken. I need chicken fajita meat, and I need it now.”

He grabbed the wrapped-up container of meat and shoved it at Ames. “You’ll be my hero if you can get this to me. I swear we are completely in the weeds.”

Sophie nodded. “Yeah, Uncle. Like, totally in the weeds.”

It tickled Nathan to death that Sophie was calling Ames “uncle” even though they were cousins.

She’d explained that saying cousin sounded kind of weird and a little slang. And what did she call it? Sketch.

It was sketch.

Still, it made Nathan happy.

Whatever, it made Ames over the moon.

And that didn’t matter right now.

“Fajita chicken. All right, girl. Peppers and onions. Peppers and onions.” He had to think of a thing for the cheese and the toppings. Oh, maybe a cup with all of the accoutrements together. Like the cheese, the guacamole, sour cream and the salsa all whipped up like a dip.

A dip.

All right, praise Jesus. He had this.

They were going to survive this, and if they didn’t, he was going to kill somebody.

And he was going to start with Ryder.

“Hand me the fajita seasoning,” Ames said.

Nathan picked up the industrial bottle of mixed spices and tossed it at the back door. Ames caught it deftly and disappeared.

He grabbed wonton skins out of the big fridge, then started whipping up dip. He added some ranch powder to the sour cream, cheese, tomatoes, black olives and salsa. These folks loved their ranch as much as Texans did.

Woo. That was money.

He checked on Sophie’s knife cuts, then peeked out the door to make sure Ames was seasoning the meat. The man had it under control, so he went back to the rest of his prep. No sense opening wontons yet.

Okay, next they could send out grilled pineapple, shrimp, and a nice bite of ham. It wasn’t top-shelf, but it was food. Season it with a touch of brown sugar and mustard to make a sweet and sour, and boom. Tropical yum.

Ames came back in right about the perfect time, the tray of perfectly grilled chicken enough to put a grin on his face. “Good deal.”

“You need me to help cut or wrap?” Ames offered.

“It’s probably cooler out there than it is in here,” Nathan warned.

“I can drink Gatorade. They don’t need me out there, but you look like you do.”

“Do I?” He snorted. Because it was one hundred percent true. This party was kicking his butt.

He was used to doing one hundred and twenty covers a night, not a buffet for twelve thousand one hundred and sixty-seven people.

That sort of thing sucked.

“It would rock if you could help. Sophie, show him how we want these things cut, would you? I’m gonna start skewering.”

They got to work and, along with the other two people they had helping, they managed to bust out some more appetizers.

After the last set of hors d’ouvres went out, and he could hear the buffet line really getting started, he slumped against the counter for a second, breathing. Thank God all of the desserts were coming from some bakery in town that needed a boost.

He could make a cookie, but he was no pastry chef.

“Thanks for your help.” He nodded, heading to the refrigerator to pass out another round of Gatorade.

He promised himself a glass of wine after this was done.

And not some shitty house wine they were serving out there, either.

No.

He wanted something full and round, something that he could drink the entire bottle, nice and slow for the rest of the night, possibly while soaking in his nonexistent bathtub because he didn’t have one of those.

Ames glanced at him. “I see the smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Yeah, I was wishing for a hot tub or a bathtub. Or any tub later. I might go get one and put my feet in it and pretend.”

“Hey, if that’s what you’re after, I got a hot tub.” Ames’s expression stayed completely unreadable as he made the offer. “You’re welcome to come soak if you need to.”

Oh, wow. Okay. “Can I bring a bottle of wine?”

“If you want that instead of beer? Yeah. Because that’s all I’ve got. Trust me, once the VIPs leave, you’ll be glad you’re not down here near the bunkhouse. You can crash on my couch.”

“Yeah? Does it get rowdy?”

Ames made a face. “It stays pretty family friendly, but it gets loud and there are a lot of big booms.”

“I will absolutely, positively provide the wine.” Ames had a hot tub. Nathan thought maybe there really was a God, and maybe that God didn’t hate him. “Do you really have a hot tub?”

“I really have a hot tub.” Ames shot him a shit-eating grin. “The bosses got, like, this crazy deal from this company that was going out of business. I swear to you, we are the hot tubbingest place on earth.”

“You are aware you live in the desert, right?”

Ames’s lips quirked, like he was fighting the world’s biggest grin, before shooting back with, “You do understand how the whole water reclamation cycle works, don’t you?”

Nathan gave up, like surrendered with his belly up in the air. Arguing didn’t matter. He didn’t give a shit. “I will bring wine and food if you need me to bring some.”

“There’s plenty of food, and I think that I have cheesecake…”

Oh, fuck him. Wine and cheesecake. “I’ll bring an overnight bag. I really appreciate this.”

Sophie stared at them both for a second, then she rolled her eyes. “I’m staying here. We’re having a party. Remember Uncle Ames?”

“I remember.”

“Good, because I don’t want anything to do with something that involves wine, cheesecake, two hairy old men, and a hot tub.”

“Whoa. Whoa.” He held up his hands. “I am not hairy.”

Sophie started to giggle. “Yes, Chef.”

He stared at Ames. “Did you hear her call me hairy?”

Ames crossed his arms over his chest and leaned, tilting his head and giving him the hairy eyeball. “Is this where I say yes, Chef?”

“I’m gonna kick all y’all’s asses.”

Ames chuckled. “You’re gonna try. Okay, what is it you call it? Brigade. What are we doing next? Clean-up?”

“We need to make sure the runners keep the buffet filled.” He jerked his head at the big fridge. “Luckily, everyone is eating mains off the grill, and we have cold sides for both the VIPs and the family and cowboys.”

“And we clean up, right, guys?” Sophie said to the two kids who had been a godsend this whole time.

“Damn right we do,” one of the kids grinned at him, looking like a monkey the way his teeth stuck out. Adorable. “The bosses said that we get twenty dollars an hour. Twenty dollars an hour! We’re saving up for a truck. We need that money.”

Nathan thought this was a great idea—this whole him not having to participate in the cleaning up part. “Sounds good, guys. Sophie, you’ll make sure that everything gets put back in the place where it needs to go?”

While this wasn’t part of her job, it was an important part of learning about how a kitchen should be left at the end of the day. Not that he didn’t trust her. This girl was as into this as he ever had been, and she made him proud.

That he could be called her mentor.

“Yes, Chef, I’ve got it. I know this.” She glanced at Ames. “Just so that we’re clear, I’m staying here at the main house tonight.”

Ames nodded. “Yes. No drinking. No smoking. Nothing that could get me in trouble with the bosses.”

“Uncle!” She gave him a glare that, if it hadn’t been so quick, would have seemed like an affectation. “I am not a screwup. I have the sense God gave a goat.”

It took everything Nathan had not to laugh. There was no way that he would hurt her feelings by doing so, but God, he wanted to.

He hadn’t been around teenagers since he’d been one, and they were fascinating with the way their moods changed on a dime. They had the passion of adulthood, and the delicacy of a child, and he was fascinated.

He understood why Ryder and Kase did this, now. He got it. Teenagers were wild and weird and uncomfortable and odd, but really freaking cool.

Especially Sophie. Sophie was the most special.

Ames nodded. “Good deal. I’ll be down here in the morning to deliver doughnuts. Kase ordered a whole truckload of them for all of us for all the work we put in today. So I’ll pick you up then.”

“Okay.” She grinned. “Do you want me to clean your knives, Chef?”

“I’ll do that right now. You take care of yours.”

“Yessir.” She saluted, and he washed up while Ames helped the other kids send out one more tray full of potato salad and coleslaw, as well as the grilled corn and avocado salad and New Mexican pasta salad for the VIPs.

“All set,” he told Ames when his knives were back in their case.

“Go grab an overnight bag and your wine, then. My truck is over in the overflow parking.”

“Are you sure I’m not keeping you from the party?” It seemed only polite to ask, but if Ames cancelled on him, he might hit the man in the nose.

Not too hard. Not hard enough to bruise. Just enough.

Hard enough to sting. Bad.

“Go get your bag, asshole.” Ames chuckled and shook his head. “We’re gonna bubble.”

“I like to bubble.”

His little house was literally a dozen steps away from the kitchen. So he hurried over, threw some swim trunks, a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt in his bag along with deodorant, a toothbrush, and a hair brush, just in case.

He probably wasn’t going to spend the night, but he might. Surely Ames would let him borrow a towel.

Nathan found two good bottles of wine, the box of rose chocolate and passion fruit truffles, plus a bag of Doritos and the cheesecake.

Sometimes it was good to have a snack stash.

He headed over to find Ames at his truck, and it was wild the number of vehicles that were here. This place was as packed as any county fair. In fact, speaking of county fairs, was that a Ferris wheel?

Did Fourth of July parties have a Ferris wheel?

He gaped, kind of wandering, and he bounced off the bumper of a vehicle, damn near going ass over teakettle before Ames grabbed him by the arm. “You okay?”

“Is that a Ferris wheel?”

“Yes.” Ames stared at him like a goat looking at a new fence. “They do have Ferris wheels in Austin, don’t they?”

“Well, not as a rule, no, but that’s not the point. This is not a county fair. This is a ranch’s Fourth of July party.”

“It’s a big ranch.”

He stopped, stared at Ames. “Yes, Cowboy, I know. I feed y’all every goddamn day. That doesn’t mean that, by definition, there has to be a Ferris wheel.”

“Do you need to eat? Maybe you’re just too hot. We’re very close to the sun here, way closer than in Austin. Get in the truck.” Ames felt of his forehead.

Nathan thought about that pop to the nose, and then thought no.

Hot tub.

This man had a hot tub.

Seemed like every cowboy in New Mexico had his own personal hot tub.

He didn’t even have a bathtub, but he wasn’t a cowboy. He was a cook.

But he wanted in the bubbles.

So he got in the truck.

Ames eased out, making sure not to mow down any of the huge number of people milling about, and Nathan breathed a sigh of relief when they left the busy part of the ranch behind, heading up to Ames’s house. They parked out by the kitchen door, and he peered around, trying to spot the hot tub.

“It’s out by the bedroom part of the patio. The backyard needs some work, but that area I sank some time into.”

“Oh, cool.” Did he have to go through the bedroom? Was that weird?

“Come on in. I’m gonna go start the hot tub warming while you get changed. The ensuite’s right through there.”

“Listen to you, ensuite, very fancy.” Of course, when he went in through the door that Ames pointed him through, it actually was elaborate for a cowboy bathroom.

Incredibly adorable.

There was a glass enclosed shower. There was a double sink vanity, and there was a claw-foot tub, as well as an antique radiator underneath a towel bar. This thing was charming as hell, and possibly the size of his little house.

Nathan decided that he wouldn’t be jealous.

He also decided that if at any time he got the offer to come over and bathe in the claw-foot tub, he was going to say yes.

Not that those sorts of offers seemed to be a thing, but should they occur? His answer would be yes.

He stripped down into his swim trunks and a T-shirt before padding out. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take a bath towel, or if he should have brought his own towel, or if there were Jacuzzi towels, or if there was such a thing as Jacuzzi towels because you know—pool towels were a thing.

Ames looked him up and down, nodded once. “Good deal. I’ll go get changed and grab some towels.”

“Thanks.” And not only for being nice, but honestly, having the towel thing answered worked very well for him.

The back of Ames’s property shot out through the high desert like an arrow toward the mountains. There was a barn and some random outbuilding, but beyond that it was fence and scrub. It had to be, what? Two or three acres, he’d guessed.

He wasn’t particularly practiced at that sort of thing, but it seemed like that was a reasonable size for a decent lot. He began to chuckle at himself, because really, he was a giant, certified dork trying to pretend he had any idea about anything in this strange, new wonderful place, even after the months he’d been here.

He was out of his league, in every way except for where it pertained to the kitchen.

Possibly how it pertained in another man’s bedroom.

But that wasn’t open for public discussion was it? Nope. Not notty not not.

The patio, though, now it was way swankier back here by the bedroom. The other half had a cobbled together outdoor kitchen. Two grills, one gas, one charcoal. A smoker. A foot pump sink. A table and chairs. He would so redo all that if it was his place.

But the little deck with the hot tub built in? It was like the bathroom. Fan-cy. He could see where Ames’s priorities laid.

This man was into his bubbles.

While he was waiting. Nathan wandered over to explore the outdoor kitchen, finding it well-cleaned and in pretty damn good repair. He liked the fact there was both a charcoal grill and a gas grill, because sometimes a cook needed that exact temperature control, sometimes he wanted to stretch himself a little bit and see how the charcoal did him.

Also the smoker. That he could get into.

He was pondering the whole idea of smoking tofu when Ames came out on the patio, and Nathan’s entire world sort of stopped.

Because damn.

It was a sin to hide all of that body in dirty jeans and filthy button-down shirts.

A mortal sin.

Ames was lean like all the cowboys were, his muscles designed to do exactly what they needed to do, not to bulk up. But he had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and defined pecs with little brown nipples. And that belly. Holy mother of God, that belly was ripped within an inch of its life, the serious eight-pack marching right up.

Nathan was going to die.

He forced himself not to stare, but God, he wanted to. That was fucking unreasonable. So utterly unfair.

God was testing him. He wasn’t sure exactly what the exam was, but he was ninety-nine-point nine nine percent sure he was failing it.

“Are you going to get in the hot tub, or are you gonna stand there and stare?”

“I’m gonna stand here and stare.” That broke him out of his weird-ass fantasy dream, and he stuck his tongue out at Ames. “I would like to point out that it is completely unfair that you have a belly like a goddamn rock star. And you eat crap food.”

“See?” Ames gave him a wicked little shit-eating grin. Then he climbed up into the hot tub, settling into the bubbles. “I told you that Doritos and hamburgers were a reasonable diet.”

“I hate you.” After he took off his shirt, Nathan managed to get in without one, falling, or two, seeming like too much of a daddy longlegs or one of those creepy green stick bugs with the great big spindly legs. “This is absolutely unfair.”

“What?” Ames glanced at him, squinting in the fading sun. “Will you get settled and enjoy the water, you lunatic?”

Nathan had to admit that the water felt amazing. He moaned, leaning back, letting his head rest on the padded neck roll this tub had. So cushy. “Okay, I forgive you for your awful processed diet. This is amazing.” His muscles started to melt.

“Well, I do appreciate that.” Ames’s tone was dry as dust, but he did get a naughty little grin. “I know it’s not a pool or anything, but it sure doesn’t suck.”

“No, it absolutely does not suck.” He curled his toes tight, tensing his leg muscles, and then let it go. The tension released, and he sank deeper. “So be honest. How many hours a day do you spend in here?”

“It really depends, I reckon. I can tell you that there are days when I’m out—especially in the wintertime—on a horse all day, and I want to get back and get my happy ass in the water.”

“That sounds cold.”

“It gets cold here.” That sounded rather dire. “To be honest, it’s not getting in the hot water that’s the problem. In fact, there’s something amazingly cool about it snowing. Having the snow fall on the water, I mean.” Ames shook his head. “Man, the hard part is the getting out.”

“Dude.” Nathan could only imagine. That had to suck. “Hmm. I wonder if there’s like a thing that you could make to have something warm on your way in. Like a heated sidewalk or—uh…” He wracked his brain. There had to be a thing—something warming for the outside. It had to be a business. “You could look it up on Amazon, I bet.”

“You’re funny.”

“What? It’s true! Online shopping is the best, especially here given your options, which, while, while they don’t suck, are not super huge. You have to admit, you have limitations.”

“And you didn’t in Austin?”

“Those limitations were totally different. It had nothing to do with shopping.”

Ames tilted his head. “No. What did they have to do with?”

How to explain it to Ames…

“Weirdly enough, freedom. The competition there is kind of huge. For everything: for jobs, for condos, for men. Just everything. Yeah. I guess it’s sort of like being in a big school of fish. And you have to be the brightest fish, and the sparkliest fish, and the fish with the biggest teeth. But when you are that man? You’re also the fish that everybody wants to catch, and you’re the fish that’s easiest to see, and you’re the fish that the other fish hate and want to eat. And… I don’t know.”

He was being stupid.

“Do you miss it?”

“I miss my restaurant. I miss my bathtub. I miss really good Wi-Fi.” He pondered that. “That’s really it.”

“Did you not have friends?”

“Sure. But really, it’s not like I can’t see them on Skype whenever I want to. It’s not like we ever had any time. We were all busy working our asses off all the time. The most we ever got was a twenty-minute cup of coffee or, you know, texts. That’s it.”

“That sounds…a little nuts. I’m used to a slower pace. I mean, there are times… You saw how the branding was. But there’s a definite rhythm to life up here.”

He got that he guessed, but—well, he’d never seen Ames hang out with buddies. “What about you? You said it was awkward here at the ranch, being the boss.”

“Mostly because I’m not married, so the married guys feel awkward inviting me over, but I have this place, so the bunkhouse guys don’t want me around.” The grin turned wry. Maybe a little wistful. “But this place is so accepting. It’s a good place.”

“I hear you, man. Seriously, I understand what you’re saying.” Nathan leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky. A big old raven or hawk or possibly an owl—he didn’t know—flew overhead. “I have to admit. I didn’t think I was going to like it here.”

“No? Why not?”

“Well, you know, there’s the city mouse, country mouse part. There’s the I-don’t-know-anything-about-snow part. There’s the I-don’t-know-anything-about-being-in-the-desert part. But mainly there is the I’m-in-a-bad-place, and I thought it would be really hard to make friends.” Nathan shrugged, not looking at Ames. “I can’t help it. I think it…” He sighed. He needed to shut the fuck up. “I don’t know. I think it’s dumb. I just…have a couple of raw spots.”

“I hear you.” Ames sucked in a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. “I’ve always been here; I’ve always lived here. I don’t have a whole lot of idea how to live anywhere else.”

“It suits you.” It really did. The whole rugged, outdoor, hard work and sunshine thing was like…perfect for Ames. He was a Wrangler ad come to life. The ones that talked about cowboys living on forever or whatever.

And he had the best smile lines…

He told himself he wasn’t ready to do this again.

To think sexy, bouncy thoughts about anybody, especially not about somebody he worked with.

Especially especially not with someone who was the uncle-cousin of his mentee. That whole situation could be a nightmare.

But it was even worse than that, Nathan wasn’t sure his heart was healed enough to wake back up at all.