“I don’t know. I made sure each and every one of them left happy when I was there.”
Hollis pulled out a shirt that had turned into a wrinkled mess and realized it was Ian’s again. He turned over the basket and dug out the things that could be wrinkled, like underwear. Since he was finding a lot of Ian’s shirts in the basket, he’d just throw them into the dryer and fluff them.
Ian didn’t say a word as he watched him carry the load to their laundry room. Hollis grinned the whole time he fed the clothes into the dryer. It honestly didn’t bother him that his GQ was so particular about his clothes; it was one of the things he loved about him.
When he walked back into the living room, he found Ian had moved on to the kitchen and was getting down plates from the overhead cabinets. They clinked onto the counter. He doled out food onto each one, then set them out. Steam still rose from the pasta. Hollis recognized the spaghetti Bolognese and his stomach growled.
Ian never complained, but he went out of his way to keep Hollis from cooking. Not that he minded. Ian might have his quirks, but he was warm and caring and so damn hot—Hollis still had trouble believing he had such a wonderful husband. They’d built a family he was proud to be a part of.
He walked to Ian and tilted his head back. Brown eyes met his and Hollis smiled as he leaned down to softly kiss Ian’s lips.
“What was that for?” Ian whispered.
“Because I love you and all your little quirks.”
“Hating wrinkles isn’t a quirk.”
“Yeah, it kinda is.” He kissed him again. “But you’ve got a bunch.”
“What other quirks do I have?”
“You like your fashion. You like being in charge in the kitchen.” He dropped his voice. “Sometimes, you like being in charge in the bedroom. Have to say, I love those times.” He winked. “The toothpaste has to be squeezed from the bottom up. Your car has to be perfectly neat at all times. Want me to go on?”
“Those are all normal things.”
Hollis laughed. “To you they are.”
“Your car could use a good cleaning.”
“That it could. Come on, let’s eat.”
They ate their dinner at the breakfast bar while Ian continued to try and come up with anyone who would be angry enough to go after Rialto. Outside of the conversation topic, sharing an intimate late-night dinner with his husband was one of Hollis’s favorite things, and he kept his gaze on Ian. He would never tire of looking at the man, never get over how lucky he was. The thought that someone was deliberately hurting Ian’s business turned his stomach and despite being hungry, he didn’t eat a lot of his meal.
They cleaned up together, put away the folded and fluffed laundry, and Hollis pulled Ian down for some snuggle time on the couch. He flipped on the television to find Star Wars playing and settled back with Ian against his chest.
It didn’t take long for Ian to fall asleep. Hollis kissed the top of his head before flipping off the television. They both had early days tomorrow, so he woke Ian enough to get him into bed and then finally let himself relax. He held his husband close as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Seven
Ian sat in the driver’s seat of his Volt and rubbed his palms on the legs of his pants. His hands were sweating. His freaking hands were sweating! This was ridiculous. He was never nervous to stop by Ward Security, particularly when he had a huge load of food in tow.
But then, he wasn’t usually planning to do something sneaky. He wasn’t a sneaky person. Rowe, sure. Half the man’s DNA had to be made of underhanded genes. Noah was the same way. Snow could be devious when he wanted to be, but it wasn’t often. Lucas didn’t have a prayer. Well, he could be when he needed to be, but Lucas was generally all bluster and bombast when he wanted to catch someone off guard.
And then there was Ian. He didn’t feel that he was particularly strong at sneaking, and right now, he was attempting to do it past the sneakiest man he’d ever met.
Taking a deep breath, Ian released his seat belt and climbed out of the car.
“Ian!”
Ian jerked around at the sound of an excited voice. Dominic Walsh was striding toward him with his hands thrown up in surprise. The bodyguard with the flame-red hair and handsome face was the company’s prime practical joker and all-around fun lover. And he was the perfect distraction.
“Dom!” Ian shouted with a wave.
“What are you doing here?” As he got within a few feet of Ian’s car, he drew in a deep breath and released a happy groan. “Oh, God! Did you bring us food?”
“Yep.”
Dom grabbed Ian in a brief hug, but Ian could also feel him leaning over his shoulder, peering into the rear window of the car to check out the large pans that were occupying his back seat. “What’s the occasion? Is it Rowe’s birthday?”
“No, I was tinkering with a new recipe, and I thought I’d use Ward Security as guinea pigs.”
Dom laughed and released Ian. “We are the worst guinea pigs and you know it. Bunch of oversized bodyguards in desperate need of nourishment at all times. We inhale everything you bring to us.”
“True, but sometimes I need a judge who already loves me before I seek out the harder ones.”
“Ahhh…a confidence boost. I gotcha. Anything I can help carry?”
“Lots, actually.” Moving the driver’s seat forward, Ian grabbed a large pan and handed it to Dom. “Why don’t you take this in and send out whoever you can find in there? I’ve got more stuff in the trunk I could use a hand with too.”
“We’ve got you.” Dom set off quickly across the parking lot, humming happily to himself.
Ian had made way too much for this simple little mission, but he’d been nervous thinking about trying to sneak past Rowe, Noah, and even Andrei. Those three men were the kings of devious and observant. They kept an eagle eye on Ian when he was around, and he could only think to distract them with food. Lots and lots of it.
Usually when he cooked for Ward Security, he brought enough to feed fifty, even though there were usually far less in the office. Most of the bodyguards would be in the field with clients, but the ones in the office tended to eat enough for two people.
Ian had just popped the trunk when he heard new voices in the parking lot. He turned back toward the building to find six tall, muscular men pouring out of the front door with looks of excitement on their faces. They acted like they hadn’t been fed in a week, and it was a great ego boost. Rowe’s men loved Ian’s cooking.
“Ian, you spoil us,” Sven stated as he reached the car. The Viking-like man towered over Ian, gracing him with a soft smile. Sven was an absolute gentle giant…unless you were threatening his boyfriend, Geoffrey, or any of his family at Ward Security. Then he turned into something quite scary.
“I thought you guys were due for some spoiling.” Ian laughed. Some of the tension flowed from his shoulders as praise poured over him for the smell of the delicious dishes and how happy they were to see him again. He might be on a mission to secretly enlist the help of Gidget, but Ward Security was a safe place. These were Rowe’s people. His friend trusted these people with his life and the lives of his own family.
It took only a minute to get the other four chafing dishes pulled out of the car and divided up while the last two men lucked into dessert and a box of plastic utensils and other serving items. Ian followed behind the crew with a small box with something special for his ultimate target.
When he reached the main open floor of the building, he found Rowe and Noah setting up a couple of long tables they pulled out whenever Ian brought in a meal.
“Ian! You should have called ahead,” Rowe admonished as he straightened from securing the last table.
“Did you eat already?” Ian asked. It was not even noon yet, but he guessed that some people could have taken an early lunch.
“No, of course not. We just would have been set up and looking for you.”
Ian snorted. “If I’d have called ahead, it wou
ldn’t have been a surprise.”
“I would have still acted surprised.”
“Me too!” Noah chimed in.
“You’re both insane,” Ian said before hugging Rowe and then Noah.
He’d grown accustomed to seeing them close. It was rare for them to be far apart at any time, and Ian was glad for it. A day didn’t go by when Ian didn’t miss Rowe’s wife, Mel, who’d been killed in a car collision, but he was glad that Rowe had found love again with Noah. He deserved to be happy, and Ian knew that Mel would have been ecstatic to see Rowe so happy and loved.
Stepping away from Rowe, Ian set the box in his hand on the floor under the table and out of sight so he could work on setting everything up. The men had learned the hard way to stay back during this process. Ian knew just what needed to be done to get his food set just right. The presentation wasn’t ideal, but these guys didn’t care about the look. It was all about the taste, and Ian was determined to always have his food taste amazing.
Once everything was laid out, he looked up at the men standing dutifully before him, waiting for the okay. “I made a duck confit stuffed ravioli with a spicy red sauce as well as a crab and creamy vino ravioli. There’s a fall salad with a balsamic vinaigrette and roasted root vegetables in a new spice mix I’m trying. Garlic bread with a nice cheese mix is on the end. And, of course, cannoli for dessert. Enjoy!”
“Damn, Boss.” Garrett groaned. “Can we reschedule the training sessions for tomorrow? I don’t think I’m gonna move after this lunch.”
“We’ll push it back an hour,” Rowe said and then added under his breath, “Maybe two.”
Conversation filled the room as employees from the various departments gathered in the main room of the company. They all chatted while they loaded up their plates. Ian kept his eyes open for the triplets—what Rowe lovingly called his IT team. All reformed hackers…sort of…they knew their way around anything tech.
He was briefly distracted by the appearance of Andrei at his side. The former Romanian bodyguard turned COO of Ward Security had a knack for just sort of appearing out of nowhere. Ian couldn’t decide if he was the more dangerous one to watch out for or Rowe. Probably both.
But that was hard to remember when Andrei didn’t even look at the silver dishes as he walked to Ian’s side and pulled him into a hug.
“This is a nice surprise!” Andrei said as he released Ian.
“I was in the mood to try out some new recipes,” Ian said with a smile.
“We’re always happy to be your test subjects.”
“How’s Daci? Ready for my cooking yet?”
Andrei chuckled, his expression changing from joy to pure poppa pride. “We’re getting there. I think she’s going to be ready for at least a little of Ian’s infamous Thanksgiving.”
Ian clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t even given a thought to Thanksgiving. Where the hell was he going to put all the people? It wasn’t just the addition of Andrei’s daughter to the table in her adorable high chair, but Lucas had mentioned having his sister and niece fly in for the holiday. Ian also wanted to bring in Hollis’s family. He’d become quite close to Hollis’s mother, mostly over the phone.
“Already planning it in your mind?” Andrei teased.
“I was just thinking that there might not be enough room at my place, and I hate to think of people being forced to sit in separate rooms.”
“Lucas and I would like to offer our house. The formal dining room will be big enough, I think.” Andrei hesitated, looking a little unsure. “We know how important Thanksgiving is to you, and we don’t want to upset your plans.”
Ian wanted to laugh. What Andrei was trying to say was that Ian was completely irrational and bit of a high-maintenance diva when it came to Thanksgiving. Ian always wanted the holiday meal to be perfect, and he refused to let anything stand in his way. Okay, yeah…so maybe Hollis was a little right about his quirks.
“Having it at your house would be perfect. There will be plenty of room for everyone without us feeling cramped.”
“And the kitchen is twice the size of Lucas’s old one. Plenty of room for you to work.”
Ian sighed happily. Lots of counter space. Double oven. Large range with a water spigot for soups. He’d seen the plans and it really was a dream kitchen, which was ridiculous because Andrei and Lucas rarely cooked.
Ian loved his house and he did like his kitchen for most small home projects, but when it came to cooking for his family, there was never enough counter space. If and when he and Hollis found a new place, it was going to have a much larger kitchen. It was his one and only requirement.
“Did I hear someone mention Thanksgiving?” Rowe chimed. In one hand, he clutched a heavily mounded plate. Ian wanted to laugh. That man was not going to be moving later. He could easily imagine Rowe stretched out on the big leather couch in his office, sneaking a nap in. Probably wrapped around a snoring Noah.
“We’re planning to have it at Lucas and Andrei’s this year because there isn’t enough room at my place,” Ian replied.
“Does a bigger kitchen equate more grub?”
“We’re not hiring a forklift to get you back out of the house,” Andrei muttered before stepping in line to fill his plate.
“Noah and I would just move in until we could leave on our own,” Rowe said.
“I haven’t thought about the menu yet.” Ian grabbed a plate and piled a little of the salad and duck ravioli on it. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew that Rowe would badger him until he ate something. “My main concerns have been the new restaurant, our foster parent classes, and Snow’s wedding.”
“I thought you said you weren’t planning Snow’s wedding,” Noah said before shoveling a forkful of ravioli into his mouth.
“I’m not…officially.”
With his plate in hand, he followed Rowe and Noah up to Rowe’s office. Once there, Rowe grabbed some bottles of water out of the mini fridge he had tucked in the corner.
“What does that even mean?” he asked as he handed Ian a bottle. “Not ‘officially’ planning the wedding.”
“It means that while Snow is content to take charge of his wedding and supposedly make all the decisions with Jude, he’s still texting me every day with these crazy questions. Last night, he was asking about location weddings and if I thought Mykonos was better than the Seychelles. Like anyone wants to blow an entire day changing from one plane to the next, trying to get to a wedding. This morning, he was asking if it was unrealistic to ask people to drive an hour from the site of the ceremony to the reception because he found this interesting place deep in Kentucky for the ceremony.”
“He’s out of control,” Rowe grumbled. “He texted me pictures of china patterns two days ago. China. Fucking. Patterns. Like I know a damn thing about china and place settings for weddings!”
“Have he and Jude picked a date yet?” Noah inquired.
“No!” Rowe and Ian said in unison.
“They can’t make up their minds,” Ian continued. “One minute they want a fall wedding, and then it’s a winter wedding in a tropical location. Then it’s spring, but they don’t want to do any of the usual spring wedding things.”
Rowe grabbed his bottle and cracked the seal on the cap. “I thought Lucas and Andrei were bad with postponing their wedding.”
“Yeah, but once they finally settled on a date, Lucas and Andrei were good about making quick decisions and sticking to them.”
“Only because they were having sex every time they signed a contract or handed over money. Twisted fucks.”
“It was romantic! They were excited about starting their new life together.”
“There is one important thing we haven’t even discussed yet,” Noah said, stopping their complaining. “The bachelor party.”
Rowe nodded solemnly. “True.”
“You can’t plan that until you know when the wedding is,” Ian argued.
“We can at least start the brainstorming,” Noah replied.
<
br /> Rowe speared a vegetable and pointed it at Ian. “Your bachelor party was amazing, but I think we really need to make Snow and Jude’s epic. I don’t think anyone ever expected Snow to settle down, so we need to make it massive.”
“What? Vegas?”
Rowe shook his head at Ian’s suggestion. “There’s a big security conference there next year, and I can’t risk getting banned from the city before that.”
Ian closed his eyes and fought back a groan. Rowe was dead serious. He truly believed he would get banned from the entire city of Las Vegas if he had a bachelor party there. Ian was pretty sure he was right.
“We could do Tahoe. Or Atlantic City,” Noah said.
“Miami,” Rowe said slowly, lifting both of his hands into the air. “Beach. Nightclubs. Gambling. Those cool airboats on the Everglades.”
This time, Ian did groan. One of their drunk asses was going to get eaten by an alligator. It would be amazing if they all made it to the wedding.
“You guys make bachelor party plans. I’m going to check on the food downstairs and call the restaurant,” Ian said as he gathered his mostly empty plate and bottle of untouched water.
“Problems?”
“Nope,” Ian said quickly and then winced inwardly at himself. That sounded guilty. “We’re training some new cooks and trying a new wine distributor. Just want to check on everything.”
Not a lie. That was not a lie, Ian mentally repeated to himself. What he told Rowe was entirely true. Those just weren’t reasons Ian would ever call into the restaurant to check on things.
Rowe offered up a wave and turned to Noah, talking about a drunken club crawl through South Beach.
Ian walked out, breathing a sigh of relief until he got down the stairs. He threw his plate into the trash, checked the food to find that nearly all of it was gone, and grabbed the little box he’d tucked away. Glancing around, he casually strolled down the hall and hurried up a back staircase to the second floor. This was the only way he could get to the IT office without crossing in front of Rowe’s open doorway.
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