Chance gestured to his office.

Max went in and Chance followed closing the door behind them for privacy to conduct the interview.

Rory sat on the couch, white-knuckling the brim of his hat as the city boy stormed out, cursing Chance Galloway the entire time. Man, if that idiot ruined Rory’s chances at this job, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. Forcing himself to let up on his unconscious attempt to strangle his Stetson, Rory carefully kept his head averted from Galloway’s sight when the man stepped out to call the next guy in line.

After sitting for an hour and talking to Max, Rory was sure the wiry little man would be hired. He’d been let go when the owner of the ranch he’d worked on for most his life had died suddenly and his kids had sold the ranch not long after their daddy was in the ground.

Max knew his way around a ranch, that was for sure—but so did Rory.

The fact that he was about the same age as the fit-throwing applicant who was RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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interviewed before Max would not work in Rory’s favour. He’d argue for this job if he had to, though, because he had more than one reason to want to work here now. He twitched as laughter rang out from the office—someone was having a helluva time in there.

And why was that bothering him? He didn’t think he’d be able to laugh and joke with Chance Galloway just yet—he was still recovering from the jolt that shot through him when Galloway had stepped out from the office to call in the first guy in line. It wasn’t just that the man was hot as hell with his salted black hair and chestnut brown eyes, and a body that was firmly packed and stacked in all the right places. It was also the fact that fate had a wicked sense of humour.

The office door opened, and this time Rory dared a peek over his shoulder. Chance and Max were all smiling and joining each other’s fan club. Rory’s frown deepened as he realised what an idiot he was being. What was wrong with him, anyway? Max had obviously been hired, and was being congratulated and all that warm fuzzy stuff. He turned away as Max started walking through the living room, waiting until the man was close to the couch before standing with his back to Chance.

Smiling, Rory clasped hands with Max. “Way to go, Max, congratulations.” Max’s grin was so wide it almost looked painful.

“Thanks, Rory. Told Mr Galloway…I mean, Chance, that you seemed to be the only other man out here who knew his way around working a ranch.” Max slapped Rory on the back, ending with a push that didn’t even tempt Rory’s feet into moving. “Go on, now, you’re up.”

Rory nodded and wondered why his feet suddenly felt like they were stuck in mud. He wasn’t an insecure man, and he knew he was more than qualified for any position on this ranch. If he had to wheedle his way into a job, that was what he’d damn well do. He did, however, slap his Stetson on low and hope that it, along with keeping his head tilted down, might buy him some time before Chance made any snap judgments.

He couldn’t put off raising his head—well, he didn’t have to raise it too far, or he’d be looking down at his potential employer—forever. Stepping up to Galloway and tipping his chin up, Rory offered his hand.

“Rory Calhoun, Mr Galloway.” Rory watched Chance’s eyes widen and then narrow to unhappy-looking slits . Hells bells, he’s gonna be all bent over my age, among other things. The idea ticked Rory off, but he only smiled politely instead. “Should we step into your office, Mr RORY’S LAST CHANCE

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Galloway?” Anger was replaced with amusement once Rory realised the man was looking kind of shell-shocked.

“Do I know you, Mr Calhoun?” Those molten brown eyes were narrowed as

Galloway’s gaze seemed to jump all over Rory, trying to answer the question themselves.

“No, sir, I believe you do not.” At all, but if you really want the opportunity, I’m game. Rory stopped that train of thought before it left the station—and him with a hard on he wouldn’t be able to hide. That was definitely not the kind of first impression he wanted to make.

Galloway gave Rory a slow nod, still looking a little suspicious and displeased.

Irritation with the man’s attitude burned at the base of Rory’s spine before settling in his gut.

He wasn’t going to lose this job just because Mr Chance Galloway had a hang up about age.

What was that called anyways? Age-something? Ageism? He’d better know that word because he was pretty certain he’d have to toss it out there.

“Please step into my office, Mr Calhoun.” The tone of the man’s voice made Rory feel like something to be scraped off of his prospective boss’ shoe. He didn’t like it one bit. Spine stiffening until Rory thought it just might snap, he held his head up high as he walked past Galloway and into the office.

“Have a seat, please, while I look over your information.” Galloway flipped open the folder and started reading, eyebrows winging up in surprise and grunting softly.

Rory removed his hat before sitting, then had to picture a naked woman to keep his cock from springing to full mast. The man across from him was entirely too sexy, and that grunt had Rory thinking… Grandma in a bikini—an image seared into his memory like the worst sort of nightmare, from when he’d visited the grandfolks in Florida—caused a meltdown of the grey matter in his head, but it did the job and knocked his libido down to his ankles.

This time when Galloway met his eyes, Rory was ready for the jolt of electricity that he felt arc between them—and he had no doubt that the other man felt it, even though

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