Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

N athan sort of went through the next few days in a fugue state. Dan had come back twice, and the second time Ryder and Kase had met him at the door.

And that had been that.

No more Dan. No more trouble. And no one had really said anything about it.

It was wild. It was as if Dan had never really existed.

He didn’t even know how to feel.

Usually he didn’t know what to think, but he had feelings down to a fine art. He knew if he was angry. If he was worried. If he was scared. Whatever. But he didn’t this time.

He didn’t know.

Was he mad about losing this opportunity, or was he stupid for considering it? Was he worried about what was wrong with him? Was he worried that there wasn’t anything wrong with him? Was he getting old and settling? He didn’t know.

So he wandered around and cooked things. It was Christmas, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t enough to do.

In fact, he was in the middle of a batch of biscochitos right now.

Cookies.

Christ.

“Chef?”

He looked over at Sophie, head tilting. “What do you need, kiddo?”

“Where did you go?”

“Huh?”

She nodded down at the bowl on the counter. “You wandered off on me.”

He realized he was sitting there with the spoon in his hands, like the spinning of the earth would stir the cookie dough. He’d been staring out the window, in his own little world. “God, I don’t know. I was woolgathering, I guess. Sorry.”

“So the rumor is that guy, your ex, offered to get you another restaurant. That’s what he was yelling when the bosses asked him to leave.” Her bright blue eyes speared him.

Damn it. He nodded. He wasn’t gonna lie. “That is what happened.”

“Like in New York City, huh?”

He nodded. “Like in New York City, huh.”

“Are you going?”

Nathan shook his head. “No. I can’t work with him.”

She leaned back against the counter, that blue gaze fastened on him. “So what if it wasn’t him? What if it was a real thing, a real person. Investors, I mean. Would you go?”

He knew that this was somewhere he needed to be careful, somewhere he needed to actually pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

“Could you see me in New York City?” That was fair, right? It wasn’t a lie because he didn’t know. He was so Texan he might not make it in Manhattan.

But it was the dream, right? To go and have a five-star restaurant in a big city with fine dining and an upscale clientele and…

“You can do anything you want to do. You’re amazing. Like you’re the real deal.” Her eyes filled with tears. “We’re just?—”

Oh no. “No, girlfriend, you are not just anything. Don’t you ever say that. You’re not just anything to me, and you’re not just anything in general. Neither is your Uncle Ames. Y’all are not just anything .”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“No, it’s really not.” In fact, it was the hardest thing to say, ever, because the simple fact was he wasn’t going to leave Ames. He wasn’t going to head to New York City, or Austin.

Or Los Angeles. Or Chicago. Or London. Or Paris. Or Milan. Or Tokyo.

Not without his cowboy.

“But you can work anywhere, Chef. You could go anywhere . You wouldn’t have to stay here. Not now.”

“Soph, I didn’t have to stay anywhere. At all. I didn’t have to come here. I’m an adult. I wasn’t forced to come here. I chose this place, and if I stay, I choose to stay here. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean.” She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“So what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Nathan wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. He thought he’d said the right things. He’d said he was staying, hadn’t he? That was good, right?

“You’re like this guy. You’re the chef. We all know you’re not happy, and that’s not cool. Is that what you’d tell me? That it’s not cool to give up what I want to do for some girl? You would say that to me. You would say ‘Sophie, cooking is your passion. You matter so much, and you have to follow your passion’. That’s what you would say to me. So are you lying?” She threw up her hands, clearly torn about the whole situation.

He was going to kick something or throw a bowl of cookie dough.

“I’m not lying.” Nathan was confused, he was hurt, he was a little sick to his stomach. He was afraid. He was overwhelmed, and he didn’t want to do this anymore. But he wasn’t lying.

She stared at him, lips parted for her next salvo, when the dogs—who were outside in the new covered pen that the bosses and Ames had come up with—set up a wild barking like he had never heard before.

Saved by the puppers.

“Let me go see what’s what. You watch the cookies.”

“Yes, Chef.” She nodded, her chin set in a determined line, and he fled.

Nathan didn’t think he was up for anymore hard discussions today.

“What are you two hooligans—” He broke off, squinting. Okay, what had they cornered?

“What are you puppers doing? Get over here.” He whistled and three of the four dogs that were in the pen came right to him, and he was tickled. Two of those three dogs belonged to him, which meant that the one dog that was being an asshole didn’t.

That meant he couldn’t get blamed for whatever the fuck was going on.

“I’m serious. Get your butt over here right now, whoever you are.”

Sure as shit, Whoever You Are came right over and plopped his or her fuzzy little butt on the ground, next to Thorn and Honeysuckle.

“Good dog. Now, what did y’all have?” He wandered over, frowning deep.

Oh Jesus.

He scooped up the three little kittens in one hand. “Sophie! I need you to call your uncle and bring me a couple of kitchen towels right now.”

“On it, Chef.”

He nudged the puppies out of the way, encouraging them gently not to jump on him as he tried to make his way out of the pen.

“Oh, sweet little fuzzy beasts.”

The kittens were adorable. There was a black one, a white one, and a yellow one.

Orange.

It was probably closer to orange. Definitely more mango than lemon, but with a hint of actual, like, tangerine in there.

Sophie came out of the kitchen, towels in her hand. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Babies!”

“Kittens, three of them. We need to get them out of the dog pen.”

“I’ll help.”

He managed to get up without falling in the snow or letting any dogs out. “Do you see the mom? Have you seen a pregnant cat around here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, not that I’ve noticed. And they’re not teeny. I mean, their eyes are open and everything.”

Yay? “Call your uncle, tell him what is what, and he’ll know what to do.”

Nathan assumed that meant calling the vet, getting them warm and dry and de-fleaed so they could be fed, because that seemed to be all of the things that one did.

Then they could take them home.

“Are we gonna keep them?”

“Well, right now, yes, and I don’t see why not, I mean. Cats are good, right? They catch mice.”

Sophie went wide-eyed and she nodded. “They absolutely catch mice. Can I have the black one?”

That worked for him. “Yes, but I want the yellow one.”

“Marmalade.”

“Pardon?” Nathan didn’t follow.

“They’re called marmalade, the yellow ones.”

That made sense to him. “Dude, cool. I would like the marmalade one. I’m going to name him Tigger.”

“But if it’s a girl?—”

“Then her name can be Tigger. It’s a gender-neutral name.”

Sofie grinned him. “And that could be a gender-neutral kitty.”

“Oh honey, I guarantee you after it’s old enough, it’s going to be neutered, one way or the other.” He winked, and they giggled together, like Honeysuckle and Thorn weren’t enough.

Ames came jogging up from the barns, his hands full of work towels. “What did y’all do?”

“We are heroes. The dogs had these three cornered in the dog pen. I don’t know, maybe she moved him into the covered area to keep him out of the snow. I don’t see her. The dogs had hold of them.”

“Oh damn it. Let me call the vet, get her out here to cast eyes at them. We’ll see what the bosses say, whether or not they want them.”

Sophie shook her head. “No, no, no. Chef already said we could have him. We saved them.”

“We’re keeping them. The marmalade one’s name is Tigger, and the black one? Her name is Wacky. You can name the white one.” Nathan was feeling magnanimous.

“I can, huh?”

“Yes. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet, but you can totally name it.”

“Go for gender-neutral,” Sophie interjected.

“All right, but we still have to get them to see Tygh. He’ll check them out. I want to make sure they’ve not been hurt. I want to know how old they are, all that. What if we find mama?” Ames asked.

“Then she’s obviously not been well taken care of, and we’re going to bring her home and love on her and get her fixed.” Nathan didn’t have any problem with that. “Nobody needs to be just…a baby factory.”

“Sometimes I worry that you don’t know how a ranch works, honey,” Ames told him, and then winked, the expression wicked as hell.

“Shut up and take care of our new kittens. I’ve got cookies in the oven.”

“Dude, cookies, right? I’ll go save them,” Sophie raced inside.

“Wash your hands first!” Nathan called after her.

“Kittens.” Ames kind of stared at him a little bit.

“Yep, kittens. Wacky, Tigger, and whatever you decide to name this one.”

“Obviously it’s a Snowball.”

“Obviously.” Why hadn’t Nathan thought of that himself? It was a perfectly logical name for a white cat, and he could have saved Ames the entire seven seconds it took him to think of it. “Excellent idea. Do you think they’re okay?”

“They seem healthy. I think you’re probably right. I think that the mom took him into the doghouse to get them warm, and then when the dogs came barreling in, they got frightened and went hunting for Mama.”

Oh, he did like being right.

“Speaking of dog runs, what are all these dogs doing in here that aren’t our dogs? In fact, our dogs are pretty equally matched in number at this point. At some point, we’re going to have fewer of our dogs than just dogs.”

Ames rolled his eyes. “Well. Sarah Jane owns the little white fluffy one. Her name is Frenchy, and her dog sitter crapped out on her. And then? Charlie brought that bigger hairy mutt. His name is Leopold. Don’t ask. She’s training him to be a service dog, I think. Or maybe he flunked out of service dog school. I don’t know. But anyway, he’s here. He’s a bruiser. Super sweet, but a little dumb.”

“Oh, sort of like you?” he teased.

“Shut up.” Ames said it with no heat.

Nathan winked at Ames. He did love making his lover smile.

“I was thinking if you wanted…” Ames’s tone was careful. “We could put up a Christmas tree this afternoon after you’re done with the cookies. I’ve got some stuff. We’ve got the decorations that you got brought over with your storage container. I got lights. There’s all this stuff from Sophie’s house…”

Oh, how sweet. “I’d love to. I love Christmas.” He glanced over at Ames. “What is it you want for Christmas, little boy?”

Ames didn’t even hesitate. “For you to be happy.”

Damn, this man made his heart ache. He chuckled, though, keeping it light, shaking his head. “That’s not something Christmas can do.”

And Nathan didn’t want to talk about that right now. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he had to figure this out.

And quick.

Maybe he needed to get investors in Santa Fe. That wouldn’t be a terrible drive, right. It would be long, but not terrible. People had commuted way longer for way worse.

He wasn’t super interested in doing private cheffing.

Of course pop-up restaurants were another option, and they didn’t need investors. He simply had to figure this out, but he was going to.

“I’m not leaving,” he told Ames.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving you. I’ll figure this out, but I’m telling you now, I want to be with you.”

Ames stared at him, blinking like he was a goat looking at a new fence. “Look. I want to be?—”

A cowboy came out, hand waving as he hollered. “Ames. Ames, we need you back over here. What the hell are you doing?”

“God for fucking bid these kids do one thing on their own. I swear. I want to talk with you. I do, but?—”

“But this isn’t the time.” Right. They were both on the clock.

Ames blew his hair off of his forehead. Someone needed a haircut. “Can you hold these kittens and deal with the vet? Is that something that you can do?”

He was becoming a master of handling the vet. “Yes. Sophie’s on the cookies. I’ll deal with the critters.”

He sounded so official when he said that. He knew he did.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Time to go play cowboy.”

“You do that; I’ll play Kitty Father.” It was less archetypal, but way more descriptive.

“Oh, I like it.” Ames pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the vet on my way.” He winked. “We’ll talk.”

“We will.” He waved Ames off, because he had wiggling kittens to wrangle. They always had later to deal with them things.