Ready for the Rancher
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Zuri Day
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17,5K
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25
One
The same sounds that helped build the Breedlove empire worked Adam Breedlove’s nerves, especially after putting in a twelve-hour day. Spinning wheels. Jangly music. Bells. Beeps. Chimes. Sounds that could be heard in any casino everywhere, even the virtual ones now online and accessible by almost anybody with a computer and an internet connection. Yet he took his time as he strolled through the loud, spacious area, two floors down and away from the CANN Casino Hotel and Spa’s opulent, upscale and quiet main lobby. He was “keeping his feet in the grass,” as his father would tell him. Staying close to the source of their great wealth was to always be reminded of who was really important—the CANN customer.
Before leaving the executive offices where Adam served as vice president of research and development for CANN International, he’d removed his suit jacket and tie and had rolled up the sleeves of his stark white shirt. It was a move to leave the position behind and appear casual, blending in with the patrons. He took in the vast Friday-night crowd, noted with satisfaction that a majority of the machines were occupied. He smiled and offered discreet waves to employees who recognized him. Eyes all across the room charted his progress. Some women offered flirty smiles. Others just stared. Men, too. Adam took it all in stride.
“Yo, Adam!”
Adam stopped and turned in the direction of the yell. A stocky man of average height waved as he walked toward him. The face looked familiar but...
“It’s Dennis, man. Dennis Washington.”
“Washboard?” Adam laughed and shook the hand Dennis extended.
Dennis patted his beer gut. “Not anymore.”
“That’s why I didn’t recognize you! What’s going on, man? I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Since high school, no doubt.”
“Where have you been? Still living here, in Las Vegas?” Adam began walking toward an exit leading from the casino into a quieter hallway, a small seating area and a bank of elevators. Dennis fell into step beside him.
He shook his head. “Bakersfield. The family moved there shortly after I graduated, and just before I left for the military. When I came back, I settled there. Felt it was as good a place as any.”
“You were in the service?” Adam asked, his look one of teasing surprise. “I can’t imagine anyone telling you what to do.”
Dennis smiled. “It was an adjustment.”
“How long were you in?”
“Four years.” A pained expression flickered across his face. “That was enough.”
“That’s awesome, Dennis. Thank you for your service.”
Dennis’s response fit somewhere between a grunt and a snort. Adam didn’t know what the sound meant, but he knew to leave it alone.
“Are you staying here, at the hotel?”
“No, this place is too rich for my blood.” He took a long admiring glance around. “It’s something else, though. You Breedloves always were a cut above the competition. But this place is cuts, plural.”
Adam couldn’t disagree. His family had made history when their company, CANN International, had built the first seven-star hotel in North America. It had become the hotel of choice for anyone who had money or clout. But he’d been at the hotel since early that morning. Right now he couldn’t wait to get away from the place.
“An army buddy of mine has a place in Henderson. I’m crashing there,” Dennis said.
They reached the elevators. Adam went to the one on the end, slid open a panel discreetly tucked next to the doors and placed his thumb on the scanner. “How long are you going to be here? It would be cool to catch up.”
“I’d love that, bro, and would especially like to talk about your other business, Breedlove Ranch. I read that you breed cattle and are building your own processing plant.”
Adam nodded. “You read correctly. It’s almost completed.”
“That’s the industry I’m in.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep. I manage a slaughterhouse in Bakersfield, one of the largest in the state.”
The elevator arrived. Its doors opened without a sound. Adam waved a hand over the door panel. The elevator doors remained open.
“No kidding. How long have you been doing that?” Adam asked.
“Been working at the plant since returning from the military eight years ago, managing it for the last four years.”
“We should definitely talk. How long will you be here?”
“I’m flying back tomorrow night.”
Adam pulled out his phone. “Give me your number.” Dennis complied. “I’ll give you a call. Maybe we can do lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After a hand grip and shoulder bump, the men parted ways.
The next morning, after confirming a meeting with Dennis via text, downing a quick breakfast and enjoying a ride on his prize stallion, Thunder, Adam jumped into his brand-spanking-new limited-edition pickup and headed into the downtown of Breedlove, Nevada. The unincorporated town of just over two thousand residents was founded more than twenty years ago by Adam’s father, Nicholas, and a group of like-minded businessmen. It was about twenty-five miles northeast of the Las Vegas Strip, surrounded by mountains, with planned communities and a number of businesses in and around the quaint downtown square. Anchoring one corner of that square was a restaurant Adam owned called BBs, which stood for Breedlove Burgers, purchased specifically to showcase the beef raised at his ranch.
He reached the place and pulled into a crowded parking lot. An affordable menu, comfortable decor and stiff drinks had made the spot a favorite among the residents, especially the younger crowd. Adam drove around to the reserved parking at the back of the building and entered through the employee entrance.
“Hey, Adam!”
“Hola, Miguel.” Adam gave a shoulder bump to the restaurant’s head chef. “Qué pasa, hombre?”
“Nada, man.” Miguel shook his head at what he jokingly called Adam’s “gringo Spanish.”
“You come here to work or what?”
“I came here to eat a good burger. Think I can get a table?”
“I don’t know, boss. You might have to wait in line.”
Adam spoke to and joked with other employees as he continued past the building’s offices, through the kitchen and into the main dining room, where he spotted Dennis sitting at one of the tables by the window. What made Adam almost stop midstride and have to catch his breath was that his former high school friend wasn’t alone. If heaven was missing an angel, Adam knew where God could find her. Sitting at his burger joint—BBs.
Ryan Washington felt nauseous, and not just her stomach was upset. When inviting her to lunch, Dennis knew the last place his vegetarian sister would want to eat was a burger joint. He wasn’t the only one at fault. She should have known that Dennis’s inviting her anywhere held an ulterior motive, came with strings attached. She’d grown up adoring her older sibling and while she’d wished otherwise, they’d never been super close. Heck, before his call that morning she hadn’t even known he was in Las Vegas. At first she’d flat-out refused. For many reasons. She’d had a full day planned, a practice about to open. Then there was the very personal matter that she hadn’t shared with her family. But as was often the case, Dennis had persuasively changed her mind. After admitting there was a little more to his request than just having lunch, he’d told her about meeting an old friend who was now very successful. That he hoped to do business with him and that her presence might help. When she asked why, he’d very politically incorrectly said, “Because my friend likes pretty girls.”
That should have been enough to reinstate her refusal. Dennis wasn’t generous with compliments. For her brother to call her pretty meant he really felt he needed her help. And hinting to set her up with one of his friends? Not in a million years. What kind of business was this? And what if said business meant he’d spend more time in Las Vegas?
So there she sat, handling what work she could by way of her cell phone, mentally blocking out odors and wanting the meeting to be over.
“There he is!”
Ryan looked up when her brother spoke, and momentarily froze. The man—or was it the brother of Adonis?—who returned Dennis’s greeting was gorgeous, as though he’d stepped right out of a Wild West billboard ad and walked in for a meal. Everything about him screamed cowboy—Stetson hat, plaid shirt, snug-fitting denims and Western boots—all on a body for which it looked as though the clothes had been designed. But a cowboy with clean, manicured nails? That observation didn’t fit with her assumption at all. That could never happen. Tall, dark and handsome was way too common a statement to use for the hunk in front of her. But it fit. He was toned and fine with close-cropped curls, dark, intense eyes and lips made for kissing. He smiled and revealed the knockout punch, a dimple. Ryan had always been a sucker for those.
For once, a temporarily speechless Ryan was grateful for her older brother’s big mouth. She dropped her eyes down to her cell phone to call up composure and pull reasonable bits of calm and collected back from whatever part of her mind they’d fled.
“Good to see you,” Dennis continued, as Hunkalicious sat down in one of two remaining wooden seats around the square table. “Couldn’t believe when the waiter told us this was your place. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, you running a cattle ranch and all. The server who seated us swore the burgers here were the best in the West. Didn’t she, Ryan?”
Ryan meant to look at her brother, but of their own accord her eyes were drawn to the ones now boring into her with a casual intensity, deep chocolate orbs that fairly twinkled, framed by slightly arched eyebrows and long curly lashes.
She refocused on Dennis. “Yes, she did.”
Actually Ryan hadn’t been paying attention while Dennis flirted with the server. But since this guy her brother was trying to impress owned the establishment, she felt a little creative conversation was justified.
“You remember me talking about the Breedloves, right? The family who owns the CANN hotel on the Strip? This is one of the brothers, Adam. He and I went to high school together.”
“Hello.” Adam’s smile was warm and genuine.
“Hi.” Ryan suddenly felt shy, a rare occurrence. But she maintained eye contact.
“I don’t think you ever met Ryan,” Dennis continued. “She’s my kid sister. Growing up she was a nuisance. I rarely allowed her around.”
Ryan’s brow raised at her brother’s comment. Not that it wasn’t true. As a precocious eight-year-old with a newfound love for board games and sports, she’d followed her fearless, then-fourteen-year-old athletic big brother around like a puppy, wanted to be where he was and to do what he did. For him, it was so not cool.
“I can’t imagine you being a nuisance.” Adam held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
His voice reminded her of how a good brandy tasted—earthy, spicy, with a warmth that burned gently on its way down. She took his hand and noted its softness. He may own a ranch, but this definitely wasn’t a man who spent his days herding cattle or baling hay.
“Likewise,” she replied.
It was the merest caress, just a light squeeze of the hand she placed in his. But for Ryan it transmitted all sorts of messages. That he was thoughtful and gentle, yet strong and secure. He was probably a fabulous lover. Ryan had no idea why the thought crossed her mind. She couldn’t have cared less, but there was something about him...
Ryan wasn’t the only one smitten. Am I smitten? Surely not! At least half a dozen other females within her line of vision were, and definitely their cute server with perfectly coiffed twists, who bounced up to their table wearing a smile as bright as her starched white shirt.
“Hey, Adam!”
“Hello, Zoe, a ray of sunshine, as always. Zoe is our top server,” Adam said to Dennis and Ryan. “When she heads off to college next year, it’ll be our loss.”
“Mine, too,” she lamented. “I’m going to miss eating here almost every day and seeing...everybody.”
Ryan felt anyone looking at the lovestruck teen would assume that “everybody” was Adam.
Zoe turned to Ryan. “What can I get for you today?”
“Why don’t you start us out with drinks and an appetizer trio tray?” Adam interjected. “I’ll run down the menu so they can make informed choices.”
“Great idea.” Zoe pulled out a small electronic tablet and recorded their drink orders. “For the trio, how about beer balls, fried pickles and onion strings? Those are the most popular items on the starter list.”
“Beer balls?” Ryan asked.
“It does sound a bit weird,” Zoe replied with a laugh. “They’re meatballs, made with Breedlove beef and spicy pork, then coated with a beer batter and deep-fried.”
“Sounds delicious,” Dennis said.
“Ryan?” Adam looked at her.
A slight hesitation and then, “That’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Don’t mind her,” Dennis said. “She’s one of those funny eaters...a vegetarian.”
“Really?” Adam perched his Stetson on a wall hook, then reared back in his chair and observed her. “You don’t eat beef or pork?”
“Nothing with a face,” Ryan responded.
“Not chicken, either, or fish?”
The incredulity in his voice made Ryan laugh out loud. “None of the above.”
Adam shook his head. “I’m a meat-and-potatoes man to the bone. For me, living that way would be like dying a slow and painful death.” He picked up the restaurant menu, a simple two-sided sheet covered in plastic, and placed it back down with hardly a glance. “We have a couple salads on the menu,” he suggested. “They’re fairly straightforward but I’ve eaten them a time or two. Honestly, they don’t get ordered much. But we wanted a few healthier options along with all the fried stuff. We also have a turkey burger but that won’t help you, either.”
“No, but it’s okay. I’m not that hungry.”
“But if you were, your choices would be limited. Honestly, with all the time we spent on the menu we didn’t give vegetarians much consideration. This is a huge meat-eating town, everything with a face.”
Ryan laughed. This guy was delightful.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten meat?” Adam asked.
“About five years.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Because a screw came loose,” Dennis joked. “Anyone who’d turn down a good burger can’t be right in the head.”
Adam looked at Dennis but didn’t laugh. Ryan appreciated his nonresponse to her brother’s barb. For as much as she loved Dennis, he could be a bully and often made her uneasy. Hurtful, disparaging comments in the guise of teasing were something she’d endured from him for much of her life.
“Do you work with your brother?” Adam asked in her silence.
Ryan glanced at Dennis. His eyes conveyed a message that she couldn’t read. Her answer was noncommittal. “Not really.”
“She doesn’t butcher cows,” Dennis said. “But she does work for me from time to time, typing and other things that can be done online. She’s really good at stuff like that.”
What? Updating Dennis’s résumé and typing up a couple reports hardly qualified her as being Dennis’s employee, especially when she did those things for free. Again Ryan assumed this was part of why she’d been brought here. To contradict him outright wouldn’t look good. Dennis wouldn’t like it. Ryan’s mother had taught her a long time ago that Dennis was the golden child and image was everything. Even so, she barely concealed the question from being broadcast on her face.
“You live here?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” Ryan answered.
Dennis turned to Ryan. “Adam works with his family but he has his own company, too, Breedlove Ranch, where they raise cows for market.
“You guys hiring?” he asked Adam. “If you have any openings in the office, Ryan here would make a great employee.”
This time the message in Dennis’s glance was clearly conveyed. Play along.
Ryan gripped her fingers together beneath the table. Otherwise she could imagine them around her brother’s neck! To say that she worked with Dennis was ludicrous, and that she’d have anything to do with a company that bred animals for food was an outright lie.
But then Adam looked at her with those bedroom eyes and said, “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
And Ryan felt that appearing to go along with her pushy brother, at least through lunch, couldn’t hurt. She didn’t see herself seriously dating a sexy meat-and-potatoes stallion like Adam. But she could certainly ride him for a night or two.
