sure it’s five o’clock somewhere.”
Holt nodded his head. “Yeah, guess you’re right about that.” Holt pushed away from the bar-style counter and walking farther into the kitchen.
Shilah moved to the side, to allow him to reopen the fridge. When he pulled out an assortment of sliced turkey and ham, along with a variety of toppings, Shilah’s stomach rumbled in response.
Holt glanced over his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “You missed lunch too?”
“Yeah,” Shilah answered. “Just got back from the south pasture. I was hoping Lilly left me a plate from lunch.”
“Naw, Lil is resting. Ellie and the new kitchen girl did lunch today.” He threw Shilah a forlorn look. “And Yaz didn’t even make lunch for me. Guess my baby missed the memo.”
Shilah raised a brow. “Which one was that?”
“You hungry?” he asked, and Shilah nodded his head.
After withdrawing two plates from the overhead cabinet, Holt went about deftly slicing tomatoes and pickles. “The one that says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” he groused, and Shilah barked out a laugh.
Recently, Holt had become engaged to Yasmine Taylor, their housekeeper Lilly’s niece. Although Lilly was much more than a housekeeper to the men, having been a part of the ranch before Shilah, Holt and Nate had arrived as foster kids.
Thinking back, Shilah had a hard time remembering when the woman wasn’t a part of their lives, as she’d been more like a surrogate mother to Shilah and his two brothers from the time they were young.
Her niece Yasmine had been a part of the ranch for nearly as long, coming to live with them when she was a child, as well. Soon after graduating high school she’d left, and her visits to the ranch after that had been few and far between. She’d come home last month to help Lilly recover after her knee-replacement surgery and.
Shilah glanced at his brother, holding back a laugh when he bit out a curse after slicing into his finger, again grumbling about his woman and her neglect.
… And that was all she wrote, Shilah finished the thought. Penthouse—the nickname Holt had been given when he’d played pro ball, known for changing his women as often as most men changed their shorts—had fallen and fallen hard. And Yasmine had fallen just as hard, the pair inseparable since their engagement. When Holt wasn’t working, he could be found with Yasmine, helping her as she planned the opening of her own catering business, as well as meeting with producers for a cooking show that would begin taping in the fall.
“Grab some bread. Yaz and I made some rye last night,” Holt said, making a sound with his mouth and smacking his lips.
At that, Shilah turned to his brother, raising a brow. “You and Yaz?”
“Yep, she’s been giving me cooking lessons. In exchange she allows me to give her lessons in … well, let’s just say my baby is learning the ABCs of how to treat her man.” A grin of remembered pleasure crossed his face. He turned to Shilah. “Just need to slice it,” he said, nodding his head toward the pantry.
Holt frowned, his thumb in his mouth. “What? You don’t like rye bread?”
Shilah laughed. “First you rant about her not taking care of you, then you’re talking about helping her cook and then waxing poetic on how well she treats her man. ABCs of how to treat her man, my ass.” Shilah laughed. “You’re so whipped it ain’t even funny, man.”
Holt shrugged, humor lighting his pale blue eyes. “If I don’t grouse every once in a while, y’all will think I’m getting soft.” He winked. “Can’t have that. My babe likes me … hard.”
“Whoa!” Shilah threw up his hands. “I’m a man. And your brother. That doesn’t get me excited, the thought of you getting hard,” he said, tossing the sack holding the bread toward Holt. Which his ex-NFL brother easily caught, an ever-present half grin on his face. “In fact, it makes me wanna hurl.”
With both of his brothers, Nate and Holt, engaged, for the first time in a long time Shilah felt alone, in a way he hadn’t felt in longer than he wanted to remember.
Not that he wasn’t happy for them; it was just that at times lately it hit him that soon his brothers would start families of their own, and the thought was unsettling.
He lifted a bag of chips he’d found on the shelf and walked toward the island-style counter in the middle of the kitchen and placed it alongside the bread.
“You’re a lucky man. Nothing wrong with appreciating what you’ve got.”
He felt Holt’s curious gaze on him as they quickly made sandwiches for their makeshift lunch.
Holt sat next to him on a barstool, took a healthy bite of his sandwich and swallowed. Around the bite, Holt began, “You know, Yaz has this friend—”
“Has Nate returned from Cheyenne yet?” Shilah interjected. There was no way in hell he was going to let his brother finish that particular train of thought. Damn, was he so pitiful that Holt thought he needed fixing up?
Shilah was perfectly happy remaining the single man in their family. Besides the yearning he’d felt when he’d watched his brothers with their brides-to-be, sharing secret smiles or going to bed early, eyes only for each other, Shilah knew that love and happily-ever-after wasn’t in the cards for him.
He’d known that from the time he was a young boy. He was too … flawed, for any woman to ever love him.
Immediately the image of Ellie Crandall came to his mind, as unexpected as it was sudden.
He forced away the conflicting feelings he felt at seeing her again.
Although he’d chosen to go to a local college when he wasn’t working at the ranch, he’d often spent his free time at the library, studying and cramming four years of college into two. Soon after graduating, he’d devoted his time fully to the ranch, working long, hard days. At that point the ranch had begun to grow—he and his brothers as well had worked alongside Jed to see to that.
Although his brothers had gone on temporarily to pursue other interests, it had been for the betterment of the ranch. Nate, the oldest, had been involved in a lucrative stint of bull riding, and Holt in the NFL. The money they’d earned was used to improve and expand the ranch.
Within a short time, their profits had skyrocketed as they’d diversified, adding breeding of thoroughbreds to their menu, the money that earned allowing them to expand even more.
It had taken the death of Jed for all three brothers to come home and work the ranch full-time, dedicating themselves to seeing it become the vision Jed had for it.
Ellie’s arrival on the ranch had brought back memories, memories of a special time in his life, some painful, held deep in his subconscious, but all of them close to his heart.
“Not yet. He and Althea should be home by the weekend,” Holt replied, answering his question about Nate, bringing Shilah’s attention back to the present.
Recently, a national food conglomerate, Rolling Hills. had begun to buy … or consume, as he and his brothers had come to believe,
