“Nothing with a face,” Ryan responded.
“Not chicken, either, or fish?”
The incredulity in his voice made Ryan laugh out loud. “None of the above.”
Adam shook his head. “I’m a meat-and-potatoes man to the bone. For me, living that way would be like dying a slow and painful death.” He picked up the restaurant menu, a simple two-sided sheet covered in plastic, and placed it back down with hardly a glance. “We have a couple salads on the menu,” he suggested. “They’re fairly straightforward but I’ve eaten them a time or two. Honestly, they don’t get ordered much. But we wanted a few healthier options along with all the fried stuff. We also have a turkey burger but that won’t help you, either.”
“No, but it’s okay. I’m not that hungry.”
“But if you were, your choices would be limited. Honestly, with all the time we spent on the menu we didn’t give vegetarians much consideration. This is a huge meat-eating town, everything with a face.”
Ryan laughed. This guy was delightful.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten meat?” Adam asked.
“About five years.”
“Why’d you stop?”
“Because a screw came loose,” Dennis joked. “Anyone who’d turn down a good burger can’t be right in the head.”
Adam looked at Dennis but didn’t laugh. Ryan appreciated his nonresponse to her brother’s barb. For as much as she loved Dennis, he could be a bully and often made her uneasy. Hurtful, disparaging comments in the guise of teasing were something she’d endured from him for much of her life.
“Do you work with your brother?” Adam asked in her silence.
Ryan glanced at Dennis. His eyes conveyed a message that she couldn’t read. Her answer was noncommittal. “Not really.”
“She doesn’t butcher cows,” Dennis said. “But she does work for me from time to time, typing and other things that can be done online. She’s really good at stuff like that.”
What? Updating Dennis’s résumé and typing up a couple reports hardly qualified her as being Dennis’s employee, especially when she did those things for free. Again Ryan assumed this was part of why she’d been brought here. To contradict him outright wouldn’t look good. Dennis wouldn’t like it. Ryan’s mother had taught her a long time ago that Dennis was the golden child and image was everything. Even so, she barely concealed the question from being broadcast on her face.
“You live here?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” Ryan answered.
Dennis turned to Ryan. “Adam works with his family but he has his own company, too, Breedlove Ranch, where they raise cows for market.
“You guys hiring?” he asked Adam. “If you have any openings in the office, Ryan here would make a great employee.”
This time the message in Dennis’s glance was clearly conveyed. Play along.
Ryan gripped her fingers together beneath the table. Otherwise she could imagine them around her brother’s neck! To say that she worked with Dennis was ludicrous, and that she’d have anything to do with a company that bred animals for food was an outright lie.
But then Adam looked at her with those bedroom eyes and said, “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
And Ryan felt that appearing to go along with her pushy brother, at least through lunch, couldn’t hurt. She didn’t see herself seriously dating a sexy meat-and-potatoes stallion like Adam. But she could certainly ride him for a night or two.
Adam was surprised at how Dennis teased his sister, and didn’t like it at all. He’d been on the receiving end of such treatment. That’s how he and Dennis had become friends. The guy he remembered from high school was one who defended people who were being treated badly. That he’d been rude to his sister bothered Adam, maybe more than it should. He sensed Ryan wasn’t comfortable with the situation, either. So he decided to let the matter go...for now.
Zoe returned with their drinks and to take their entrée order. Dennis and Adam opted for the house specialty and the most popular menu item—a half pound of Breedlove beef on a toasted bun topped with onion strings, dill pickle slices, and a homemade condiment blend of spicy mustard and creamy aioli.
Adam looked at Ryan. “Would you like a salad, possibly with smashed potatoes or fries?”
“What type of oil is used to cook them?” Ryan asked.
“Good question,” Adam said. “I have no idea.”
Ryan’s query led to a visit from the chef. Once schooled in the preparation of her limited choices, her order was taken.
Dennis took a large swig of beer and then set down the bottle. “So, Adam...how’d you go from casinos to cows?”
Adam shrugged. “Wasn’t planned, although if you’ll remember, I always had a little bit of cowboy in me.”
Dennis grinned. “That I do recall.”
“Me and Christian had accompanied my father on a trip to Tokyo, where we’d just opened a second hotel. For dinner our host served us Kobe beef. It was hands down the best bite of meat I’d ever put in my mouth. I asked the host about its origins and basically became obsessed with finding out everything I could about how it was processed. When a family meeting led to a large tract of unused land being up for grabs, I jumped at the chance to come as close as I could to producing that taste in America. It’s been five years in the making, but we’re confident that Breedlove Ranch is about to deliver that product. Not Kobe, of course—that type can only come from the region that bears its name—but the best Wagyu beef ever produced in this country.”
“Is that what’s served here?” Dennis asked.
Adam shook his head. “Not yet. We’ve had customers sample the Wagyu, but here we’ll continue to offer the less expensive prime Black Angus.”
He looked over as Ryan made a face. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem,” Ryan responded.
“Tell that to your face,” Adam drawled. “You just scrunched up your nose like you got a whiff of poo.”
The comment caused Ryan to burst out laughing yet again. From a woman who Adam felt was somewhat guarded, the sound was as carefree as it was unexpected. It was a sound he decided he quite liked. A lot.
“Where is your meat processed?” Dennis asked.
Adam glanced at Ryan before answering. “Until now we’ve sold the bulk of cattle wholesale, keeping back a supply for the hotel, a few restaurants and stores in this area, that are processed by a small, family-owned business in Henderson. But we’re four to eight weeks away from completing our own facility.”
“Having your own processing plant has got to be exciting.”
“It is,” Adam replied. “Four thousand square feet, state of the art.”
Adam saw Ryan reach for her purse. “Excuse me,” she said, standing up.
“Don’t go,” Adam responded. “We can talk shop another time.”
“No, really. It’s okay. I want to wash my hands.”
Adam watched her walk away. He was struck by her beauty to be sure—curvy figure, curly hair, skin the color of hot cocoa and he imagined just as sweet. But there was something else about her, an aura of calm assuredness, a peacefulness that somehow calmed him, too. These days,