Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

15. Farron

FIFTEEN

FARRON

brEAKFAST it wasn’t exactly my choice to have you stay here,” I mutter, noticing Adrian visibly wince at my words. Fuck , I’m an asshole. He’s just trying to be nice, and he even thought of Magnum.

Swallowing down some of my bitterness at the whole situation, I decide to extend an olive branch. “Do you want to come in?” I offer, pulling the door open wider for him.

Adrian hesitates momentarily before stepping inside, quickly recovering with a playful wink in my direction. I roll my eyes at him and gesture for him to follow me to my tiny kitchen, where I take a seat at the bar-top.

Adrian sets the tray in front of me, immediately focusing on Magnum’s cheese and placing it on the floor next to the food bowl. Before he takes a seat at the bar-top with me, he quickly makes work of opening every single one of my kitchen cabinets. Once he finds my dishes, he returns and places a plate and fork in front of me.

“Do you have a habit of making yourself at home?” I quip, raising an eyebrow as he divides the food between our plates.

He chuckles lightly but continues with his task before meeting my eyes. "I like taking care of people," he responds, his tone sincere.

I reply with a non-committal hum before digging into my meal.

As I eat pieces of bacon, I find myself stealing glances at him, unable to resist taking in every detail. It looks like he shaved but kept some of the scruff. His curls look perfectly tousled like he spent an hour on them this morning. With each blink, his long lashes dance over his eyes, and I lose my focus staring at his mouth for a moment as he eats. My attention is drawn away from his mouth to the little gold hoop in his nose, which only makes him that much more attractive. He’s wearing a black short-sleeved t-shirt that makes it impossible to ignore how well it fits him, highlighting his broad back, strong shoulders, and muscular arms. Arms covered in tattoos that keep catching my eye.

I don’t want to get caught staring at him, so I discreetly avert my eyes from him every few seconds but find myself drawn back to the artwork on his body. I try to take in as much of his tattoos as I can. His arms are covered in black and gray artwork with a few pops of color, and they appear to showcase a love for horror movies.

One arm seems to be focused on more modern classics, covered in horror movie icons like Ghostface from Scream, Michael Meyers, and Art the Clown - all intertwined with some classic settings and items like the red balloon from IT. The other arm looks like it has a more vintage vibe with Frankenstein’s Monster, the sultry Elvira, and Dracula-related art. Both arms are beautifully done, each a masterpiece in their own right. Though my curiosity burns with questions about his tattoos, I hesitate to ask him about them, not feeling mentally prepared to dive into Adrian on a deeper level.

I try to get myself to think about something else, and it’s then that a wave of self-consciousness washes over me as I become aware of our surroundings. I look around my space, scrutinizing how dirty everything is. My living space reflects my neglected mental state: dishes piled up high in the sink, clothes all over the ground, and over the furniture in the living room. I’m surprised Adrian was even able to find clean dishes, given the state of things. Leaning down discreetly, I even sniff my sweatshirt to make sure I don’t stink, given that I just grabbed it up off the floor this morning. God, I must look like Magnum did when I first found him—a trash creature.

“Sorry about the mess,” I mumble out apologetically, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Adrian pauses mid-bite, setting his fork down. “Sunshine, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who came here unannounced,” he reassures me, gently patting my thigh. I feel heat radiate through me at his touch, traveling up my body and warming me to my core. “How do you like your coffee?” He prods, reaching for the cream and sugar.

“Just a little bit of sugar would be great. ”

He adds a spoonful of sugar while a maniacal little giggle escapes him, making my brows furrow. “Just how Kenji likes it,” he comments with a grin. Hurriedly, I take a sip of the coffee, nearly scalding my tongue to avoid having to respond to that. I’m nothing like Satan.

Pushing thoughts of the grumpy man with the tree trunk thighs aside, I take a bite of the eggs and let out a deep groan. These might be the best eggs I’ve ever had. How did he manage to make eggs taste this delicious?

I glance over at Adrian, finding him staring at me with wide eyes. Swallowing, I offer an apology, “Sorry, these are just really good.”

Clearing his throat, I watch as he readjusts in his seat. “Don’t apologize to me, Sunflower. That’s the best compliment I could get,” he replies, briefly dropping his gaze to my red cowboy boots before returning to meet mine. “Honestly, I never knew if I would be able to cook like this again. This community is amazing. It’s strange being here; it feels like the apocalypse didn’t touch this place.” He says earnestly.

Scarfing down the rest of my eggs, I respond, “At the beginning, it did. From what I heard, a lot of the dead in town made their way over here.” I can’t shake the thought that maybe some people could have been saved if I was here. “That's why there's an additional fence around all the farms. I wanted to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen again.”

“You weren’t here?” Adrian asks.

I pause, considering my response. Despite how kind Adrian has been to me, I can’t trust him. Hell, I barely know him. "Um, no, I wasn't. I arrived a little over a month after the outbreak," I admit cautiously.

“Where were you?” Adrian follows up, his curiosity obvious.

Knowing I’m not ready to go into everything that happened, I quickly change the subject. “How did you learn to cook? I thought my eggs were good, but these are great.” I say, trying to divert Adrian’s attention to something else while I pick up a piece of bacon.

“My mom taught me,” he responds, his tone a bit solemn, and I find myself filled with gratitude that he doesn’t ask me any more questions about my past. “My mom makes the best tostones, and my youngest sister's mofongo is to die for. But I make the best pernil,” he adds with a wink. What is up with that wink? It’s simultaneously mesmerizing and annoying as hell, especially when combined with his gorgeous smile.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell him sheepishly.

“Puerto Rican food, Sunburst,” he says with a big smile. “Trust me, I’ll make some for you one day, and you’ll be shocked at how delicious my food is when I cook the stuff I love most.” I can’t help but feel a blush creeping up my cheeks as I nod, feeling frustrated at myself that all these little nicknames he’s using for me are affecting me. I don’t even know where he’s pulling them from now.

“Where are they?” I ask bluntly. “Your mom and sister, I mean.” And from the way he tenses up, I can tell it’s the wrong thing to say. How could I be so insensitive? I remember yesterday that they mentioned they were looking for family, and I was just as confident then as I am now that they wouldn't find them here. For someone who doesn’t want anyone prying into their past, I should expect the same, especially with getting hit with the news that your family isn’t somewhere you were hoping for.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” I rush out before he has a chance to respond. His shoulders visibility loosen, and he takes a deep breath.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” He says as his lips slightly turn up into a soft smile. “The answer is that I don't know where my mom or my younger sisters are. We were going through different groups and communities we could find to see if they ended up somewhere. They weren’t at their house when we arrived, but they got out at least.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "We've been moving since the first day, traveling to a few different states in search of them, but nothing. We heard of this place, and I guess I was hoping they would be here.”

I can’t tear my eyes away as he tells me about his family. My eyes glisten with tears that I refuse to let fall, understanding all too well the hope of finding your loved ones safe after everything that has happened, only to be let down and left feeling alone.

He takes a deep breath and gives me a shaky smile. “This was the last place we were going to look.”

He says that last sentence with finality, as if he’s already resigned himself to the idea that he’ll never find them again. I can see his eyes glisten with unshed tears, and clears his throat like he’s clearing the painful thoughts away. I can’t stop the single tear that runs down my cheek at the thought of the pain he must be feeling. He leans closer, lifting his hand and gently brushing it away with his thumb.

I instinctively lean back on my stool, creating some distance between us. Sensing my discomfort, he speaks up. “But don’t worry, Sunshine. We are all lost people. Coming to terms with that is the hardest part.”

His words resonate with me, my mind automatically drifting to Holden. Despite having my grandparents, I know they won't be here forever. Holden is the only person I have left. I don’t want to come to terms with him being gone. I don’t think I can.

“What about the other two?” I ask, shifting my focus away from my own thoughts .

Adrian finishes his sip of coffee and takes a deep breath. He puts his cup down and says, “That's their story to tell.” I can respect that; I wouldn't want my grandparents sharing details about my past or the people I've lost.

Adrian quickly cleans our dishes and takes them to the sink despite my protests that he doesn’t need to. “Like I said, I like taking care of people,” he reminds me with another wink.

Why does it feel like there's more behind that wink than just cleaning dishes? My cheeks flush, and I suddenly feel uncomfortably warm. When did it get so hot in here? I tug at my sweatshirt, trying to get some air inside. Glancing at Adrian as he finishes with the mugs, I find myself lost in thought.

He's undeniably attractive—actually, they all are. I can't comprehend how three beautiful people found each other and ended up on my doorstep. Adrian hums a tune, and I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through his chocolate curls. I imagine they'd feel like silk. I picture his tan hands wrapping around my waist as he lifts me onto the counter, spreading my legs as he steps in between them, gripping my hips and pressing up against m–

“Farron?” Adrian’s voice breaks through the fantasy I have no business having, bringing me back to reality. “Did you want any more coffee?”

I shake my head in an attempt to shake off the lingering daydream.

“Um, no, I'm good,” I reply as I stand up to walk him to the door. As Adrian steps outside, I thank him, gesturing back towards the kitchen. “And sorry again about the mess.”

“Anytime, Sunshine,” Adrian responds, placing his hands in his front pockets before heading back towards the main house. But just as he's about to disappear from view, he spins on his heels and shouts back, “Hey Cowgirl, maybe we can go howl at the moon next time?” accompanied by a flirty wink.

Confused by his comment, I look down at Magnum, who seems equally puzzled. But as my gaze drifts back up, I catch sight of the sweatshirt I hastily grabbed this morning—on it a picture of a full moon with images of wolves howling at it. Letting out a frustrated groan, I slam the door shut, run back to my room, and throw myself onto my bed.