The Legacy of Falcon Ridge: The McLendon Family Saga - Book 8 by D.L. Roan

Author:D.L. Roan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Copyright © D.L. Roan

Chapter Twelve

Grey leaned back in his seat and patted his full stomach. “Beau, those were the best barbecue spareribs I’ve ever had.”

“No kiddin’,” Matt added, mirroring Grey’s appreciation. “I feel like a busted can of biscuits.”

“It oughta be good,” Clay scoffed. “It’s the only thing he knows how to cook.”

“One more than you,” Beau countered, tipping his beer bottle to Grey. “Hope that girl of yours knows how to cook, or those two are gonna starve by spring.”

“Just because I don’t hunt and slaughter my own food doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook,” Clay argued. “And, yes. Dani can cook. She makes a mean lasagna.”

“I taught her that,” Mason bragged.

“Wrong,” Matt argued. “I’m the lasagna king.”

“Yeah, but I taught her not to burn it,” Mason said.

Levi laughed. “You two are as bad as Beau and Clay.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Grey followed their gazes to see Clay scratching his cheek with his middle finger. He shook his head and reached for his beer. Levi was righter than he knew.

“Seriously though, man…” Mason leaned around Matt to address Beau. “The ribs were great.”

“Thanks,” Beau said. “As they say, the secret’s in the sauce.”

Virgil dropped his last bone on his plate. “The secret’s in the prime beef I work my ass off around here to raise,” he said around a mouthful, shooting Beau a ribbing glance.

“You sayin’ I don’t contribute, Pop?” Beau challenged.

“Only want credit where credit’s due.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Levi chimed in with a smug grin, tapping his finger against his temple, “then you should all be thankin’ me for my genetics genius that created that prime flavor and texture.”

Virgil paused, his napkin poised at the corner of his thick mustache. One white brow rose in ire as he finished the motion and laid the napkin on his plate. “Where exactly do you think that genius streak of yours came from?”

“Oh, shit. Here we go,” Clay said under his breath, elbowing Grey with a chuckle.

At the other end of the table, Levi picked up his beer and held it up in a toast. “Momma was one hell of a woman,” he answered with a wink.

“Here-here!” Beau and Clay raised their beers and stretched across the table to clink them to Levi’s.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “No respect,” he mumbled, even as he joined their toast. “But, no less true, God rest her soul.”

Grey laughed at their comradery and banter. A dozen years older than himself, he’d been surprised to find so much in common with Clay’s dad. He’d admired the man for years, for his reputation as a salt-of-the-earth cowboy and well-accomplished businessman, but getting to know the ranching legend personally had been a bit surreal.

Virgil was easy to like, both plainspoken and down to earth, and reminded him a lot of Uncle Cade. Which could be a good and bad thing, he thought with a private chuckle. But after touring their ranch, the behemoth operation that it was, Grey couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by his success, and a little envious if he was being completely honest.

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