Chapter 68

Not that Tom would say a word about it, although it did piss him off that a wonderful morning spent in bed wouldn’t be happening. Jack would probably be gone most of the day.

There wasn’t any point in Tom getting up at five freaking thirty. He drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and fell back to sleep.

* * * *

It was quiet in the kitchen when Tom finally got out of bed.

“Morning, JT.”

“Morning, Thaddeus,” he mumbled.

“Good morning, JT.” Rush had been living at the ranch for six months now, and he’d become such a part of the family. His little city boy.

“Morning, Rush. There any coffee?” A mug was pressed into his hand, and he raised it to his nose, inhaling deeply and then taking a grateful swallow. “Ah. Thank you.” More awake, he smiled at the two young men. “So, what’s on the menu?”

“I thought I’d make French toast?”

“Sounds good.” Tom chuckled as Thaddeus went to the freezer and took out a box of Aunt Jemima French toast. The boy did wield a mean toaster.