Rowe, on the other hand, only seemed to have an objection to hearing or seeing certain things.…
He stopped walking and faced Rowe. “Despite all that crap about Ian being like a little brother, why is it you’re okay that Ian and I are getting together? More so than Snow and Lucas, anyway?”
Rowe pulled up the collar on his brown coat and eyed Hollis a long, long moment. “Ian’s a grown-ass man. He can sleep with whomever he wants.” Rowe scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Now, if you hurt him? Different fucking story. You don’t even want to contemplate what will happen to you if that happens.”
“I don’t plan to hurt him. Ever.”
“You think getting on Lucas’s bad side would be rough now?” Rowe lifted one red eyebrow.
Hollis snorted. “You guys all seem to think I can’t handle myself. Maybe we should have a little competition.…”
Rowe snorted and smacked him on the shoulder. “Maybe we should. Although, just so you know, Ian likes to watch the guys sparring on the mats at my office. I’m aware he has more than one reason to bring me lunch.”
Hollis grinned. Sweaty guys wrestling. “I’d probably enjoy that myself.”
Shaking his head, Rowe started walking again. “Snow said you were pretty cool. It’s Lucas you’ll have to charm when it comes to Ian.”
“Snow said that?” Hollis fell into step with him again. “I might be flattered. Surprised as fuck, but flattered.”
They got to the edge of the front yard and Rowe laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. “So…you’re really serious about Ian? I do need to know. I may be the cool uncle with bubble gum in his pocket, but Ian means a lot to me.”
Hollis wanted Ian—wanted to be a part of his life—but he still had doubts about fitting into that life. He worried about his future, his job.…But his attraction to the man was too strong not to explore things further. So he laid it out for him with complete honesty. “More than I have been about anything in my life.”
Rowe nodded, his nose red from the cold. “Yeah, I kind of guessed from the way you look at him.” He curled his lip. “Sure as hell took you long enough, though.”
“I’m here now. Don’t plan to go anywhere.” He sniffed. “Whoa. Do you smell that?” The wind had changed directions, carrying with it the most amazing food scents. They rode the wintry breeze like promises of warmth that had him heading to the door fast. Vanilla, sage, beef…and chocolate—it was like walking into a holiday meal preparation.
“Uh-oh,” Rowe muttered as he grabbed Hollis again to stop him. “I know what those smells mean.”
“Yeah, food.” Hollis’s belly rumbled loudly enough for Rowe to hear it. They’d been trudging through the thick, wet sludge for hours and the breakfast he’d had was nothing but fond memories. Ian had sprinkled some kind of herbs into the scrambled eggs that had completely changed his view on eggs, but that had been so long ago.
“No,” Rowe said, voice low, the word clipped. “He’s upset. Really upset.”
That gave Hollis pause. “But he cooks all the time, so how do you know?”
“Trust me. You’ll see.” They paused on the front porch long enough to kick off their muddy shoes. Rowe opened the door and walked in ahead of him. “Honey! I’m home!”
Noah, who’d been sprawled on the couch jumped up to pull Rowe away from the doorway leading into the kitchen. He glanced over his shoulder, a strand of hair falling down from the stubby ponytail on the back of his head. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, then waved Hollis over, not speaking until Hollis stopped next to him. “Something’s up with him,” he whispered, eyes swimming with worry. “Holy shit, Ward, walk in there and see. He won’t let me help, but I think maybe he’s cooking Christmas dinner a few weeks early or maybe he’s trying to supply a third-world country with a holiday meal. And any time he stops for even a second, he’s staring at the wall with the codes.”
Hollis tugged his jacket off because if he didn’t, he’d pass out from the sweltering heat. He stepped through the doorway, and his jaw dropped. Food covered every available surface of the kitchen. Steaming dishes lined one entire counter while another held cookies, bread—there was even a cake sitting on top of the refrigerator. Chocolate cake. His biggest fucking weakness. Even from the doorway, the icing looked silky and sugary and delicious.
The blistering heat made Hollis blink, though. Sauna didn’t come close to describing the misery of this kitchen’s air. Just how long had Ian been running the oven in this small room? He looked at his watch. At least a few hours. He’d obviously made use of the double ovens. Hollis’s eyebrows felt like they were in his hairline by now.