Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

N athan was sacked out on his couch.

That was a novel damn thing, so Ames paused for a moment on the way from the bedroom to the kitchen to stare at him.

He wore a pair of boxer briefs and a soft T-shirt that did nothing to hide his body at all. Which was fine. Oh, Nathan wasn’t a gym rat, he could tell. But this was a guy who worked on his feet, who was strong enough to break down a side of beef, but whose hands were delicate enough to slice the thinnest pieces of cheese or vegetables without mangling them.

Dammit. He didn’t need to be staring. That wasn’t polite. So he trundled in to the kitchen to start coffee. He was up early, but he needed to go on that doughnut run.

Nathan didn’t work on the weekends, he knew, and since the Fourth had fallen on a Thursday, he was getting three-day weekends for all of July with comp time.

It worked out pretty good, really, because the guys were all out and about, not spending a ton of time on the ranch.

Hell, it was Cowboy Christmas. Most of the guys were off at rodeos now the big party was finished.

He got lazy and made a cup of coffee in the K cup thing. He had both that and a regular pot, but he was going to get good coffee at the doughnut shop.

When he turned around, he damn near jumped out of his skin, because Nathan was standing in the kitchen pass-through, hair wildly tousled. “You gonna make me one too?”

“Sure. Travel mug so you can come with me, or regular one? I can come back and get you on the way to drop the doughnuts at the big house.”

“Travel mug. I mean, assuming you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me in jeans and the T-shirt that I slept in. It’s possible you might be.” Nathan tried to smooth his hair, and it kept making it worse. It kept getting taller. “I think after I get back, I’m going to take my car and head into town and do some exploring. I haven’t really had a chance to go wander and see things. Maybe I’ll go to Santa Fe. Have you ever been to Santa Fe?”

Ames blinked at Nathan. “Who hasn’t been to Santa Fe?”

Nathan raised his hand in slow-motion.

“How can you not have been to Santa Fe?”

Nathan held both his hands open like he was doing interpretive dance. “What do you want me to say? I’ve been lots of places. Just not lots of places here . I’ve been to LA. Houston, Dallas. San Francisco, Boston. New York City. London, Milan…”

“Okay. I get it.”

Still, it was ridiculous that Nathan had never been to Santa Fe. There was something wrong with that whole idea.

He pursed his lips, thought for a second. “I don’t suppose you want company?”

Nathan gave him the hairy eyeball. “I’m assuming you’re talking about your type of company, like you company.”

“Well, I’m not talking about asking Kase and Ryder.”

“What about Sophie?” Nathan asked.

Ames shook his head, rolled his eyes. “They’re having some sort of a makeover-slash-slumber-weekend-slash-pool thing. I don’t even want to know, but what I do know is that the grannies are supervising it.”

“Whoa.”

“Indeed.” Ames winked. He thought if Nathan had learned anything in the short time he’d been there, it was not thwart the grannies Chiara.

“Well, then. Santa Fe it is. But you have to let me pick where we have lunch,” Nathan said.

“Okay. All I ask is not Geronimo.”

Nathan tilted his head as if he recognized that one. “Why not?”

“Because that’s a once-a-year dinner kind of place, not lunch. I mean, one of those four-course meal with wine pairing places for a hundred and fifty a pop. We need like, the Plaza Cafe, or the Shed.”

“Oh God no. No, that is not what I’m thinking about.” Nathan shook his head, motioning toward the coffee with this hopeful little grin. “Look, I like food—real people food. I cook dishes from all sorts of cultures. I like exploring food. I like exploring flavors. But I’m not looking to blow a paycheck. I want to eat really good food and explore stuff.” Nathan leaned in and offered him a wicked little grin. “We could even share one of those Frito pies in the bag. I’m incredibly intrigued.”

Ames couldn’t have stopped his smile for love or money. It just happened, swelling from him like the sun over the mountains.

Suddenly, he wanted to kiss Nathan so bad. The urge was wild. There was something about that little grin, that spark that was coming out more and more often. This was a man who was supposed to be happy. Not knocked down. Not in hiding. Not bruised or broken.

He fixed Nathan’s coffee the way he knew Nathan liked it—heavy on the sugar and the cream. Then he screwed the lid tight onto the travel mug.

“Well, I tell you what. At some point today, you and I will share Frito pie in a bag. As well as a Mexican Coke.”

“Oh, Mexican Cokes. Those I like, a lot.” Nathan took his coffee with a smile. “To be honest, there’s very little wrong with Frito pie, in general. I’ve had it at football concession stands, and I’ve had it in Texas. From what I understand here, it’s a totally different ball game.”

“No shit?” How could Frito pie possibly be different?

Nathan leaned forward, as if he was sharing a secret, almost coming, nose to nose with him. “In Texas, they’re baked.”

He tilted his head the slightest bit. “‘Baked’.”

Nathan leaned a little more. “Baked.”

“Are you gonna scream if I kiss you?” Ames knew he shouldn’t ask, but he wanted to know.

“Only if you promise not to get scream if I kiss you back.”

“That’s totally fair.” Nathan brought their lips together and the touch was—not electric. More like a tiny ember which filled him with this slow-growing warmth. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced.

It felt like coming home.

Nathan didn’t close his eyes, and from here Ames could see the flecks of gold down in the brown. God help him, they were beautiful.

He stepped closer, and the coffee mug got trapped, keeping that little space between them. Jesus Christ, wasn’t that the hottest thing he’d ever felt?

It was like being a teenager and knowing that if you danced too close, somebody would notice, somebody would stop you.

Their lips parted, and Nathan stared at him. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, buddy.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to start dating,” Nathan admitted. “But you’re freaking hot, man.”

“That’s okay, baby. I don’t know that I know how to date myself. But whatever this is, I’m gonna hunt it.”