Page 25 of Hollis (The Moore Men #2)

I turn my head, glancing at Finn, a smile spreading on my face as I watch my brother watch them.

The love and adoration are plain to see, and it warms my chest. Finn’s been doing this dad thing on his own ever since Tucker’s mom skipped town when he was a baby.

It’s been a special thing to witness Ash weave his way into their lives.

Seemingly effortlessly too. First, as Tucker’s manny —Finn hates that term, but I think it’s great—to now, barely a year later, the three of them—four, if you count Bubba—are a family .

I’ve never seen my brother as happy or unabashedly in love as he is with Ash, and nobody deserves it more than him.

The way he’s standing with his shoulder pressed against the door frame and hearts in his eyes almost makes me want to find my happy too.

Almost.

Looking away from my brother, my gaze lands on the smoking hot piece of man meat across from me.

Like my dad, Ford has his hip rested on the counter beside the sink, and he’s watching the two of them with amusement in his eyes.

Turning his head, he meets my gaze, and I flash him my signature flirty smirk.

Clenching his jaw, Ford doesn’t return the smile as he looks away just as quickly.

I greedily drag my gaze down the front of him, damn near drooling at how sexy he is.

He’s dressed comfortably in a black V-neck t-shirt, jeans that hug his thighs beautifully, and a pair of black cowboy boots tucked under the denim.

“Daddy!” Tucker squeals, a huge smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye when he spots Finn. Ash sets him down, and he runs over, wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight hug when Finn picks him up.

“Hey, bug, how was your day?”

Tucker spouts off something, but I miss it entirely when an elderly man I’ve never met before strolls into the kitchen .

“Nice painting you got above the fireplace,” the man mutters to my father.

Finn, August, and I share a look; they’re clearly as confused as I am.

“Oh, thanks,” my dad grunts. “My ex-wife painted that years ago.”

The painting in question is based on a picture my mom took of my brother and me surrounded by the first herd of calves my father had after taking over the ranch when we were little.

My mother only paints for fun, but she’s incredibly talented, and that one is my favorite. It looks identical to the photograph.

Walking over to the older gentleman now standing beside Ford, I offer him my hand. “Howdy, sir, I don’t think we’ve had a chance to meet yet. I’m Hollis.” Tipping my head toward my dad, I add, “Gentry’s favorite son.”

Finn scoffs behind me, making me chuckle.

The man shakes my hand. “Larry,” he offers. “Nice to meet you, son.”

My gaze flits over to Ford, who’s surprisingly already watching me as Finn and August step up beside me and introduce themselves too. “This your dad, Cap?” I ask, arching a brow. Given everything Ford’s told me about his dad, I doubt he’d invite him over, but you never know.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Not his father, son,” Larry grunts. “He’s just forcin’ his friendship on me because he feels sorry for my old ass.”

“Is that right?” I huff a small chuckle, shifting my attention back to Ford. The way his smoky gray gaze holds mine sends a rush of heat through my veins. “That’s awfully kind of you, Captain Wesley.”

Ford’s jaw pops as he purses his lips, completely unamused with me. Although, after this weekend, I’m willing to bet he’s the furthest thing from unamused, and he probably hates that. He drags his gaze from me to my dad. “Anythin’ I can help with?”

Shaking his head, he says, “I’m just waitin’ on the bread to finish, then we’ll eat. Y’all can get yourselves somethin’ to drink and find a seat at the table.”

After I grab a beer from the fridge, I crack it open and take a long pull before strolling into the dining room.

My plan is to steal a spot right next to Ford to mess with him, but by the time I make it in there, he’s sitting with Larry on one side of him and August on the other, so I take the next best spot…

Directly across from him. My cousin breathes out a chuckle and shakes his head, while Ford glowers at me, but says nothing.

It’s not long before we dish up, and once we start eating, I glance to Ford’s left and say, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before, Larry. Are you new here?”

Underneath the table, my foot rubs against Ford’s, and I relish the way his nostrils flare on a harsh exhale and he clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t move his foot.

“Lived in Wolf Creek my entire life,” he offers. “But don’t get out much. I sure know your family, though.”

My lip twists into a grin. “Do you?”

“Course, I do.” He nods. “Knew your grandparents; went to school with ’em, and even played ball with your grandfather. Great man.”

My chest warms at the mention of my papa. He died when I was younger, but he certainly was a hell of a cowboy and a damn good man. “Hell, I bet you got some fun stories about him.”

Larry chuckles, the warm, weathered sound rumbling from low in his chest, and it brings a smile to my face. “You’d be right about that, son,” he says before nodding toward my dad. “Even got a few about your dad from when he was barely big enough to run around this ranch.”

I flick my gaze to my dad, finding him grinning from ear to ear too. “Well, I’d sure love to hear about ’em one day, if ya got time.”

“Oh, I’ve certainly got time,” he replies gleefully.

My foot trails up Ford’s calf while holding a conversation with Larry. Slow, deliberate, and electric. Glancing over at him, his cheeks are splashed pink, his shoulders tense, and I can see the sweat on his brow from across the table. I love it.

If Remi were to find out about this, he’d be pissed, and I hate fighting with him, so I really should put a stop to this.

I shouldn’t want to push Ford to his breaking point, shouldn’t want to jump back into bed with him, but god, I do.

There’s just something about him, even if I can’t quite put my finger on what it is yet, that I can’t seem to ignore.

And Ford’s ability to ignore it makes me want it even more.

It would be one thing if I knew he truly wasn’t interested.

I’m not one to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but that’s not the case.

Ford wants this.

Ford wants me, and if he thinks he can keep his distance for long, he’s out of his mind. He will break, and I can’t fucking wait to hear him beg for it.

My sights are set, and I always get my way.