“Maybe not.” A crafty expression filled Tyler’s bright blue eyes. “We’re getting another hand next week. Jeffrey’s cousin, Glen, is coming to work for us. The ranch he worked on before was sold to some developer to build a bunch of condos or something. Jeff told me he prefers men.”
Robert shook his head. “If he’s just moved here, I doubt he wants to get involved with someone right away.” He held up his hand to stop Tyler’s protest. “And you know as well as I do it takes more than being gay to be compatible.”
“True, but don’t rule him out without meeting him.”
“Fine. I’ll meet him but I’m not making any promises.”
“I’m not asking you to have sex. I’m talking about coffee, maybe a muffin if you want to get wild.”
Robert laughed. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Good. Besides, if you don’t find someone soon, Joe is going to start getting some ideas.” Tyler tilted his head to the right and Robert’s gaze traced where Tyler indicated.
Joe Walker stood beside the divider that shielded the servers’ area from the diners. His arms were crossed and a scowl creased his forehead as he watched the two men talk.
Although Robert knew his waiter was gay, Joe didn’t make the eligible list.
“You know I don’t mess around with my employees. That’s why I didn’t ask you to be my chef until I was certain it wasn’t going to work out.”
“Does Joe know that?” Tyler’s blue eyes reflected concern.
“He should.” Robert bit his bottom lip as he considered the situation. Joe had flirted with him in the past. Robert had put it down as harmless and never flirted back. He didn’t want to show any sign of favouritism to his employees. “I’ll talk to him if it gets out of hand.”
“Good.” Tyler patted Robert’s hand. “I don’t want you to get put in a bad situation, especially if he tries to get you for sexual harassment. Make sure you talk to him with at least one witness around.”
Robert laughed. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Tyler. I can handle one young man.”
“Maybe.” Tyler didn’t look completely convinced and Robert had no idea why. After all, he wasn’t a shy eighteen-year-old anymore. He’d been making his own decisions for a long time now.
“It’ll be fine. Do we have enough chocolate tarts for the dinner crowd? We ran out yesterday and I thought there was going to be an uprising.”
Tyler shook his head. “We’ll be fine. I doubled the batch from yesterday so everyone who could possibly want one will be able to have one.”
“Good.” Robert stood and threw his napkin on the table. “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you in a couple of days. I’ve got to go out of town tonight to look over some property my investment manager is trying to get me to throw some money at.”
Tyler waved. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
Robert shook his head at the chef. “Why would I want to do that? Getting into trouble is one of the few forms of entertainment I have.”
Tyler laughed. “I see.”
Waving on his way out the door, Robert left his restaurant with a lighter step. He didn’t know if this new hand would be the romantic apple of his eye but he always liked meeting people. If nothing else, maybe Robert could make a friend.
* * * *
Glen King pulled his dusty truck up to the ranch gates. A wave of relief shot through him at the fat cows and the healthy looking wheat fields he’d passed on the way to the main house. His cousin hadn’t exaggerated the ranch’s excellent condition. He hoped the job Jeffrey had promised was there too, since everything he owned was piled in the back of his pickup. Despite three years of promising Glen first shot at purchasing his ranch, Ted Hill had sold the place right out from under him. Bitterness left a sour taste in Glen’s mouth and churned his stomach as he reflected on what a fool he’d been to trust Hill’s word. When he’d confronted Hill, his ex-boss had had the nerve to tell Glen he should’ve got the promise in writing. Glen had barely resisted going to jail for murder.
“Bastard,” Glen muttered, reflecting on the conversation. How he’d longed to throttle the old rancher. It must have shown in his eyes because Hill had definitely looked a little nervous at the end. Glen had gathered everything he’d owned, called his cousin and asked about spots on the ranch where Jeffrey worked. Luckily it sounded like they were expanding and needed experienced hands. Meanwhile, the dream of owning his own piece of land had slipped through Glen’s fingertips.
It took him several minutes of driving on the ranch road before he spotted the main buildings. A low white ranch house, a couple of barns and a structure that was probably the bunkhouse, dotted the landscape in front of him. Deciding he’d best find his new boss before hunting his cousin, Glen pulled up in front of the main building.
Glen sat in his truck for a long while examining the white picket fence, bright flowers and red door of the home. Jeff had told him two men owned the ranch, and one of them had recently hooked up with the other partner’s brother. It was one of the main reasons he’d asked to come. A ranch owned by at least one gay guy couldn’t have any homophobic assholes on staff, or at least if there were, they’d more than likely keep it to themselves.
Pushing open the driver’s side door, Glen slid off the bench seat. His boots hit the ground with a jarring thud. After a daylong road trip, the leg he’d once broken, and never had properly set, ached like a motherfucker. He made sure his feet were steady before slamming the door shut. He didn’t want to show up looking like he’d been dragged along ten miles of
