But Jamie had said that he looked sexy holding a rope in his mouth, so it had given him a little bit more impetus to try more rounds than he might have otherwise.

It had all been going well. Jamie didn’t spend the night at his place every night—her rationale that her family would get suspicious—but every so often he was able to entice her to stay into the early hours before she sneaked back home for breakfast.

They had also been working on figuring out all the logistics for getting permits, certifications and various assorted licenses they would need to bring the kids on board.

Fortunately, Ellie had some insight into that kind of thing as a teacher who had often worked in special programs. And now all that was left was to talk to Hank.

Gabe wasn’t sure how ready he was to have the conversation. Not with the strange anger he felt toward his father so close to the surface of his skin these days.

All these changes in him, changes that had started months ago, changes that had gotten stronger, more pronounced because of Jamie, were propelling him in strange ways that he didn’t understand.

The issues with his dad were just a part of that.

So he wasn’t exactly sure of what was going to come out of his mouth, not even as he knocked on his dad’s office door.

His parents’ house was truly something else. With longhorns from big-ass, Texan bulls mounted above the doorways, scarred wood framing them in, reclaimed pieces of barn every which way, and framed belt buckles, rattlesnake detailing and carpets made of cowhide and leather with brass detail everywhere you looked. He knew exactly what he’d see in his father’s office. More of the same, and then some. Cowboy kitsch like you wouldn’t believe.

Poor man’s luxury. Basically.

And really, it was Gabe’s reference point for luxury.

He’d remembered thinking that his father’s office was the coolest place in the world. And when his dad told him to come in, and he opened the door, he could remember being a boy.

He could remember idolizing his old man. And not really understanding the screaming fights that he and his mother had.

He could remember looking up at that weathered face as he sat behind his desk, doing God knew what. Managing endorsements and things, Gabe supposed now, but at the time he hadn’t known, and he hadn’t asked.

There were old lariats hanging on the wall with labels, braided rawhide and leather. Each one carrying a hefty price tag. And a jackalope with antlers and bird feet.

“What brings you by?” Hank asked.

“I came to have a talk with you. About the future of the ranch.”

“Well, don’t you sound grave?” Hank pushed his hat back on his head and gave Gabe a speculative look.

“I’m not meaning to.”

“You’ve had a tone with me for the past few months now. Care to share what that’s about?”