Sweet as Honey (Aster Valley 2)

“Shit, Tiller. Sounds like you’ve already pulled together some great guys. You’ve been hard at work since the Super Bowl.”

Tiller nodded. “Mikey and I have been working our asses off. Ever since we met Rory, we realized what a big opportunity we had to launch this with his help. But we need someone to handle the construction and repair to get this place up and running sooner than we’d planned. You’ve been hiring specialty laborers for years. You know how to find the right person for these jobs. We need lift maintenance and repair, land clearing and grooming, and who the hell knows what else. You also know how to get the right permits and zoning shit handled. I need someone I trust to manage this part of it. And you can hire all the help you need, but the man at the top of operations needs to be someone we trust. That’s you.”

It was a big job, but god, it was exciting to consider. “I don’t have capital to invest. I mean, once I sell my place in Houston, I’ll have a little something, but…”

“No,” Tiller shook his head firmly. “Hear me out. I wanted to talk to you without Mikey because he gets emotional, and this is about business.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Right now this mountain investment has cost me peanuts. I’m not joking. They were desperate to off-load it because the family is old money, and they were horrified at what the scandal did to their reputation after the resort was sued out of business. They weren’t here full-time anyway. It was owned by a larger investment holding out of Chicago. Truman’s dad managed the resort itself, and another man operated the ski side of the business. I paid as much for this entire mountain as Peevy paid for his house in Boca. I want to put a hefty chunk into fixing it up and doing this right. But if I do that, someone needs to make sure it’s running to plan. I can’t do that while I’m still focused on the game.”

He was right. As the league’s highest-paid receiver, even after his injury last season, he needed to stay in top shape and focus on winning. At least for a few more seasons.

Tiller continued. “If you’ll be the man on the ground here year-round, we’ll offer you an equity share of the business as an incentive. It’s not special favors. It’s standard business practice. Julian’s already written up an official offer for you and made it all legal. We’re serious about this, Sam. But we don’t want you making this decision out of friendship debt. Make it because it’s going to be fun as shit and lucrative as hell. Do it if it makes sense for you logically. And that’s why Mikey’s not out here right now,” he finished with a wink.

And he was right. Mikey would have begged me and used our friendship to pressure me to say yes. But it didn’t matter.

I was going to say yes anyway.

I reached out my hand to shake. “I’ll have to close things out back in Houston.”

Tiller’s face split into a wide grin, and he yanked the handshake into a pounding hug. “Fuck yeah. Thank god.”

I felt the relief in his body and realized just how much he’d meant his words about wanting someone he could trust and trusting me. It made me feel appreciated and capable, like the hard work I’d done all these years was finally paying off with the respect of someone I cared about.

I cleared my throat. “I’m going to tell Mikey I said no, though.”

Tiller laughed. “Why would you put me through that?”

As we walked back toward the house, Tiller reminded me I could make one of the chalets my own. “Or you’re welcome to stay with us at the lodge. I just figured you might want more privacy.”

I wondered if there would ever come a time when I could make a home with Truman at the farm or if he even wanted a relationship long-term like that. We’d only known each other a handful of days, so it was ridiculous to even think that far ahead.

But I couldn’t help myself.

I felt lighter as we returned to the lodge. The future was exciting and challenging. For the first time in my life, I thought about what it would be like to live in a small town where I recognized people on the street and had a community to call my own.

Mikey shushed us when we entered the kitchen. Barney and Truman were at the kitchen table with a legal pad full of notes as Barney spoke authoritatively to the insurance adjuster on speakerphone. That was an important task ticked off the list. Maybe I needed to give Barney more credit despite his being a controlling asshole and blatant liar.