Page 14 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“That’s right,” I answer.

“Good,” he says in clear relief. “I didn’t have time to make gluten-free rolls.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” I tell him. “He’s used to getting by.”

Ash waves me off. “Please, it’s not hard. I’ll plan accordingly for breakfast and lunch. It’s the least I can do.”

Laura never bothered, but I don’t tell Ash that. If he wants to cook gluten-free options for Ira, I won’t stop him.

I simply hum in response, and Ash huffs a laugh, like Iamusehim.

“Will you be joining us, Ashley?” my mom asks, taking a seat beside me. Her hair, threaded through with silver ever since she passed mid-fifty, is tied behind her in a loose ponytail.

“Sure,” he answers. “I’ll just grab the punch first.”

Ash leaves the room, and Colton nudges my foot under the table. “Punch,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows. I kick him in the shin, and he grunts.

“Boys,” my mom says mildly.

Grabbing the platter of rolls, I take one and pass it along. Mealtimes at the Darling Ranch have always been chaotic. There’s no waiting to begin, not with so many people coming and going around their work. If there’s food on the table, it’s fair game, which means, by the time Ash returns, the pasta has already been ransacked.

Ash takes a seat halfway down the table, seemingly happy, like usual. He’s barely added a scoop of pasta to his plate when my dad asks, “So you ever seen a castration, Ash?”

Ash’s eyes widen as my mom says, “What did I tell you about bringing up testicles at the dinner table, Hank? For Heaven’s sake.”

“It’s a valid question,” my dad shoots back. “Ball-handling is part of life at a cattle ranch.”

Colton snickers, and Ash says, “I, uh. No, sir, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

My dad hums. “You will.”

“Jesus,” I groan. “Can we let the guy settle in for a damn day before y’all scare him off?”

Ash gives me a soft smile that feels much too warm, toopleased, so I return my focus to my dinner roll, slathering butter on top.

“Jackson can teach you about balls,” Remi says, causing my butter knife to clatter to the table.The little shit. I shoot him a scowl, noticing his processor in place behind his ear. He grins at me as he adds, “He has plenty of experience.”

“That he does,” my dad says, completely oblivious to Remi’s meaning. “He’s been working this ranch since he was a toddler.” He huffs a laugh before saying, “Shoulda seen him running through the milking barn in his birthday suit. Boy was always naked.”

A few of the ranchers laugh as I groan.

Ash’s eyes sparkle. “Does he still do that?” he asks my dad.

Lord.

“Nah,” my dad answers. “Too old for fun, this one. He’s all grown up now.”

Ash’s eyes slip down my torso as he says, “That he is.”

Heat shoots square down my center, but I ignore it—andeverybody—and take a big bite of my roll.

I choke a little when Colton says, “Well, there was that one time last year—”

“Colt.”

“—when he had one too many whiskeys and went skinny-dipping in the river,” he finishes.

“I remember that,” Colleen puts in from down the table, her voice full of amusement. “There were two full moons that night.”

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