“Now.” He growled, and I was so far gone that I almost missed the command. “Come with me.”

  The with did it. Knowing he was coming too, something I’d always thought to be more urban legend than real possibility, was hot as hell. My climax started in my feet, which flexed, toes gripping the bed, then spread upward, thighs tensing, stomach quivering, chest and face heating, until I was coming all over his hand. He kept right on stroking, wringing wave after wave from me. I’d never had a climax last so long.

  Edging was certainly an underrated turn-on because it seemed to make my orgasm that much stronger and also more emotional. The relief was as powerful as the climax, along with the satisfaction of knowing I’d pleased him.

  He managed to withdraw while I was still pulsing with the last of my orgasm before collapsing next to me and running a hand down my back.

  “Reckon we both need showers before we finish the pen.” His tone was fond, and he didn’t sound in a hurry to move. “Wait.” He gently reached for my left hand. “How’s your hand?”

  “What hand?” I chuckled. “I’m good. Never better. Please tell me we can do that again sometime.”

  He groaned. “Adler⁠—”

  “I’m good at keeping secrets.” I could accept that he needed things to be on the down-low. What I couldn’t accept was never having him again. I needed more of what we’d shared.

  “You? You’re more talkative than a parrot.”

  “I am.” I made an indignant noise. “Hotel staff gets good at being discreet, and with a pack of siblings, secrets are currency.”

  He sighed heavily but didn’t reply.

  “Just don’t say no right now,” I said quickly before he could shut me down. “That was too good for you to be regretting it already.”

  “I’m not.” Groaning again, he continued to stroke my back. “I should be, but that was…” He whistled as he trailed off. “Damn. Not sure I ever had it that good.”

  “See?” I rolled so I could waggle my eyebrows at him. “What if the next time is even better?”

  “What if.” Grayson sounded more resigned than anything else. And that wasn’t a no, so I’d take it. Rather than continuing to plead my case, I went silent, allowing myself to bask in his affectionate touches. Surely he’d eventually see my point that this was too good not to keep going.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grayson

  My willpower, as far as Adler was concerned, was only so strong. Accordingly, as the days after our fucking rolled by, I became crankier and crankier. Toward everyone, but I had to admit to reserving a certain amount of my ire just for him.

  “Stalls done?” I asked crisply as I entered the horse barn to find Adler alone. Always a dangerous prospect, lately even more so. And it wasn’t his fault he was so darn tempting, what with the easy smiles and the flirting he saved for when it was only us around.

  “Yeah.” Tonight, though, Adler seemed slightly less chipper than usual, worn down. “A bit more work with the horses being indoors more because of the snow.”

  Guilt prickled at the back of my neck. Not over the work as that was a fact of ranch life, but over my undeniable role as to why his sunny demeanor had taken a hit.

  I opened my mouth to commiserate on the workload, but what popped out was, “We’re not gonna leave six figures of horse flesh—each—out, even blanketed. You can put up with scooping more poop.”

  “I can.” Adler nodded, drawing his slim shoulders up and back as if trying to hide some of his weariness. I ached to touch him, rub his shoulders, make him smile again. But I couldn’t, so I let him continue, “And I went over and let the dogs out at lunch.”

  “Making yourself right at home, I see.” I’d intended to keep my voice stern, but a gentle tease slipped out.

  Predictably, Adler grinned, his smile warmer than hot coffee on these snowy mornings. “Hey, at least the dogs love my visits.”

  “What’s not to love?” I scoffed, but there was no real censure to my voice. This was always the way. I started out stern, but I always ended up drawn into the banter despite my best intentions. “You bring treats, toys, and an endless supply of kisses.”

  “You sound jealous.” Adler adopted a singsong voice as I gave his work with the stalls a cursory check. Didn’t need to do more than that as he’d returned to his reliable self after our Halloween encounter, and I could trust him to do a good job with stall mucking, tired or not.

  “I’m not jealous.” I gestured toward the barn doors. “Casey said chow’s on for dinner. Let’s go eat.”

  “Okay.” Adler bounced along next to me. “There’s homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert.”

  “Cookies?” I turned toward him. He was the only one in the bunkhouse liable to turn out a batch of those. “When did you find time to bake? Ain’t I keeping you busy enough?”

  “Eh. My chocolate chip recipe is worth losing a little sleep over.” Adler made an airy gesture, clearly not cowed by my gruffness. “Besides, the others love my cookies.”

  “They’ll eat anything sweet.”

  “You can give me a compliment, Gray.” Adler snorted as we braved the bitter wind on the walk to the bunkhouse. “I’m not going to jump you in the bunkhouse. And don’t make me withhold your cookie.”

  “Fine.” I did want one of his cookies, along with everything else he had on offer. I’d come to look forward to his baked good offerings like the dogs awaited his visits, but I wasn’t admitting that much. “Reckon this batch will be as tasty as the others.”

  “There? See?” Adler gave me an utterly angelic smile as we reached the bunkhouse. “Not so hard to be nice.”

  He was wrong. Each compliment was another step closer to a repeat, another crack in the wall I used to keep the rest of the world at a distance. I didn’t want to like him as much as I did because liking was a slippery slope to needing, and we couldn’t have that.

  Inside the bunkhouse, I had less opportunity to brood over Adler as we were greeted by a warm, meaty smell and most of the hands gathered around the table.

  “Seemed like a good night for stew and biscuits.” Casey nodded a greeting as we hung up our coats and removed our snow-crusted boots. “I set up the crockpot before we headed out this morning.”

  “Smells good.” I moved to help Casey retrieve bowls and plates. Aware that I’d been a grump to more than Adler, I added, “Bein’ cook suits you.”

  “Thanks. I got the stew recipe from a cookbook Adler picked up for me at the library.”

  “Did he now?” Just like that, I was back to cranky. I had a love-hate relationship with Adler doing sweet things for me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him doing them for others. He was nice to everyone, so I doubted the gesture meant anything, but I bristled nonetheless.

  “I was near the library for a meeting and needed some books for myself on dog training, so I got a card.” Adler reached around me to get the spoons, a quick brush that sent a sizzle up my spine.

  “Oh, and Adler talked to Maverick.” Casey carried the stoneware crock of stew to the table. “With guests coming in, I might be able to move to cook full time and hang up my spurs.”

  “I see.” I’d been meaning to have that talk with Maverick myself for weeks now. I’d been distracted, but that was no excuse for dropping a ball Adler had picked up and run with.

  “I didn’t mean to overstep,” Adler said quickly, undoubtedly sensing my frustration. “I was speaking with Maverick earlier about the ranch’s Thanksgiving plans and how to involve Casey, and we got to talking about feeding the guests too.”

  “What does Casey have to do with Thanksgiving?” I frowned as I took a seat next to Casey, which put me right across from Adler. “Or the ranch, for that matter?”

  “The bunkhouse doesn’t usually celebrate?” Adler’s eyes went wide.

  “Never have before.” I shrugged. “Maverick’s father wasn’t big on holidays. Those hands who want to head home for the day do, and the rest of us pitch in till they are back. Same with Christmas.”

  My own father had been equally holiday averse after my mother left, but I didn’t feel like airing my personal history at the table. Holidays were simply another date on the calendar as far as I was concerned.

  “And what about for the people for whom this is their home?” Adler frowned. His admirable soft heart was liable to get him into all kinds of trouble. “Not everyone has a family close by to go back to.”

  “I dunno. Hasn’t come up.” I took my portion of stew and hoped Adler would soon get busy with eating.

  “This isn’t a sitcom,” Motley said around a bite of biscuit. He sat to my other side and smelled none too faintly of horse. “No one’s playing Secret Santa around here.”

  “Maybe they should.” Adler was nothing if not stubborn.

  “I kind of like the Secret Santa idea.” Reindeer’s voice was unusually soft. “We did that in school. Wasn’t bad.”

  “I could get into that idea as well,” Kat added from farther down the table.

  “Last year, I made a turkey breast in the crockpot. I’d be up for doing something more formal,” Casey volunteered.

  “I could eat some stuffing.” Chips helped himself to another biscuit and butter.

  “I’ll make pie,” Kat offered, then frowned. “If I’m invited.”

  “You’re all invited.” Adler swept his palms wide. “That’s what Maverick and I were planning. A big Thanksgiving here on the ranch with him, Colt, the girls, and anyone else who wants to join in.”

  “Gonna need a full-size turkey or three.” Casey gave a thoughtful nod, eyes narrowing like he was already dreaming up recipes. “I’m up for it.”

  “Good.” Smiling, Adler pointed at me. “Don’t worry, boss. The chores will still get done.”

  It wasn’t the chores I was worried about, but I wasn’t sure how to explain that I didn’t want anyone here getting used to Adler’s big gestures. Even if Maverick stuck around beyond this year, most ranches had a separation between the owner’s family and the bunkhouse. Sure, a shared holiday might be nice, but it wouldn’t last.

  “I’ll handle the dogs tonight,” I said to Adler as we cleaned up after the meal.

  “Still in a bad mood?” Adler shook his head mournfully, like he was taking my sullenness personally. “Are you mad I talked to Maverick without you?”

  “Nah,” I lied. “It’ll be good for Casey and his back to do less heavy lifting. Nice of you to get him the cookbooks.”

  “Happy to help.” Adler sounded frustrated. “What’s your favorite Thanksgiving food?”

  “Don’t have one.” I scrubbed harder at the crock that had held the stew.

  “Seriously? What about when you were younger?” Adler wandered right into the thicket of my past, which I tried hard to ignore.

  “Holidays are a breeding ground for domestic arguments,” I said grimly.

  “Trust me, I am well aware of that.” Adler flexed his hand like he was thinking of touching me. “Family tensions tend to boil over, and my mother wasn’t subtle about calling out those who weren’t doing their share.”

  “Yep.” I nodded tightly, trying to suppress the surge of regret that he hadn’t given in to the urge to touch me.

  “No good holiday memories?” Adler asked softly, eyes big and liquid with far more sympathy than I deserved. “I’m so sorry.”

  “My mom tried some in the early years.” The admission tumbled out, likely due to a pesky desire to soothe Adler. “She had a decent hand with a casserole. Yams. Green beans. Nothing fancy.”

  “Green bean casserole.” Adler brightened. “We did that one too. I’ll call one of my older sisters for the recipe.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” I grumbled even as an unwanted craving kept me from killing his offer completely.

  “You’re worth the trouble.” Adler dropped his voice to a knowing whisper. I wasn’t. Guilt over how I’d been treating him swirled in my gut, making my dinner that much heavier.

  Adler seemed bound and determined to wiggle his way into my life, exactly like those dogs of his. However, he’d eventually stop trying, which was a thought I liked even less. I couldn’t get used to his niceness before then. I knew more than most that it was far easier to live without something than to have it, lose it, and then have to figure out how to go on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Adler

  I’d orchestrated any number of elaborate hotel parties and events, arranged for exclusive restaurant and show reservations, and assisted in more than one over-the-top proposal, but pulling off Thanksgiving on the ranch might be my proudest accomplishment. The main house smelled like a memory—roast turkey mingling with sweet yeasty scents. Everywhere I looked, there was more food. The kitchen island was heaped with turkey and all the side dishes, while adjacent tables hosted desserts, breads, and salads.

  “Is it possible we have too much food?” Maverick interrupted my survey of the food and happy guests as he came up alongside me in the large open kitchen.

  “No such thing as too much food.” If nothing else, the bunkhouse would welcome leftovers. And the pies possibly outnumbering the guests seemed like a happy problem to have.

  “I’m not sure the house has ever been this full.” Maverick added a roll to his crowded plate of food as he glanced around fondly. Colt and both girls had claimed seats near the TV on the far sofa, which had been pushed back to allow space for card tables and folding chairs. Other guests spilled into the formal dining room and front parlor. Most of the hands had opted to join us, along with Colt’s aunt and a couple of random friends and cousins. “That’s not a complaint either. I like this new energy.”

  “I do too.” I’d never met Maverick’s father, but I’d heard enough stories about his toxic parenting and miserable attitude. Filling the stately older home with fresh memories seemed like a wonderful tribute to Maverick’s hard work redoing the place. “Speaking of new energy, how is wedding planning coming?”

  “Hectic.” Maverick groaned. He and Colt were having a New Year’s Eve wedding, and last I heard, the planning kept getting hijacked by various relatives. “I have no idea what we were thinking, planning something so soon.”

  “You were thinking you’re in love and can’t wait to make it official.” I laughed lightly, determined to not show even a hint of jealousy. Maverick had reunited with the love of his life. Of course he wanted to put a ring on Colt in a hurry. Meanwhile, I was over here all but groveling for another repeat from Grayson, about as far from my own happy ending as possible.

  “True.” Maverick rolled his neck from side to side. “I feel bad, though, because I haven’t been putting enough energy toward the dude ranch project. You keep sending me ideas, and I’m simply waiting for the brain space to implement them.”

  “We’ll get there.” The longer I worked as a hand, the more robust my vision for guests became. My enthusiasm could be a lot under the best of circumstances, let alone mid-wedding planning. Although I was eager to get started implementing my ideas, I could wait until after the new year. And I was in no hurry to move on from being a hand and seeing Grayson on the daily. “Be gentle with yourself.”

  “Thanks.” Maverick smiled warmly. “Couldn’t do the project without you. Or this dinner. It all came together beautifully. Can you plan Christmas too?”

  He laughed like the request was more of a tease, but I already had pages of notes for how to make that holiday a success as well.

  “I’m on it.” I adopted the confident tone Maverick needed. He had enough on his to-do list, and I was more than happy to make the season merry for everyone. “Later, we’ll draw for Secret Santa for those who are interested.”

  “I won’t play because I don’t want to make things awkward for anyone, but I’m cheering you on.”

  “The perils of being the big boss.” I grinned at him. Slowly but surely, Maverick was settling into his role as the ranch owner. “Now, go sit with Sheriff Sexy before he comes over and pries you away.”

  “Okay.” Maverick had only glanced toward Colt a dozen times during our short conversation. Chuckling, he gestured at all the food tables. “And you need to make yourself a plate already.”

  “Eventually.” I delayed the order to eat, instead circulating my list for Secret Santa, making sure the coolers of soft drinks and water were well-stocked, arranging small plates near the dessert table, and answering various guest questions.

  I felt useful and needed in a way I hadn’t since my last hotel job. And not only that, but Maverick actively wanted me here. I had no doubt he could pull off the wedding and holiday celebrations without me, but the certainty that I made his load easier made my chest feel airy and my steps light. I loved handling details like this, ensuring everyone else had a wonderful time, secure in the knowledge that I’d done my best.

  After making my rounds, however, hunger won out, and I filled a plate with turkey and various side dishes. I grabbed a sparkling water from one of the coolers of drinks. I’d done an online twelve-step meeting early that morning, and my recovery was in a strong place. Unlike past holidays, I wasn’t tempted to drink or add chemical enhancement to an already satisfying experience. Other than the slight, manageable jealousy over Maverick and Colt’s happiness, I was content with my life.

  That teeny bit of longing, though, kept me from seeking a spot near the happy couple. I could have joined any number of other guests, and indeed, I was about to head toward the dining room when I spotted a familiar face seated on the back stairs.

  “What are you doing hiding out?” I asked as I plopped myself down a few steps lower than where Grayson was perched.

  “Eating in peace is underrated.” He gave me a meaningful look that I fully intended to ignore. Instead, I surveyed his plate of turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and other sides. At least a third of the plate was occupied by a generous portion of green bean casserole.