Chapter 14
Jesse
Luck, it seemed, was on our side. The blizzard that seemed to blow up out of nowhere, was no more than a stiff breeze by sundown. However, the temperature never came back up. That meant trudging through snowdrifts all the way home. But that was a problem for tomorrow.
The moment the storm died down, Cole was out of the tent, calling to the other ranch hands to get a fire going. I heard them split off into groups, some of them collecting firewood, some prepping food, and the rest going to find the horses that had run for shelter during the storm. I, however, stayed inside, feeling too sorry for myself to worry much about food.
I hadn’t moved since Cole had pulled away from me. My pants were still loose and open around my waist, my ass cheeks still smeared with his drying cum. Light bruises had appeared on my hip where he’d dug his fingers in to get a better grip, to fuck me harder. I still felt the stretch, still wished he was there with me.
But Cole hadn’t spoken to me in hours. We’d just sat there, three feet apart in a tiny tent, listening to one another breathe. The air was thick with regret. And now, more than ever, I was certain Cole completely and utterly despised me.
I traced the bruises on my hip with my fingertips, wincing slightly at the tender spots. They were proof that what happened between us was real, not just some desperate fantasy I’d conjured up in the cold. What started as Cole’s selfless act to save me from hypothermia had turned into a confession that led to probably the best sex I’d had in my life. But the look on Cole’s face afterward… that had been real too. Pure horror, like he’d committed some unforgivable sin.
Maybe he had, in his mind. Maybe in his world, this was worse than anything he could imagine. I’d spent fifteen years in Seattle, surrounded by people who didn’t bat an eye at who I slept with. Cole had spent those same fifteen years here, in a place where men like me were still whispered about, still treated like there was something wrong with us.
The tent flap rustled, and I quickly pulled my pants up, fumbling with the zipper. Mitch’s face appeared in the opening.
“Fire’s going,” he said, his breath visible in the cold air. “Cole says we’re eating in twenty. You coming out?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Mitch hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in my disheveled state.
“You alright? You look a little rough.”
“Just tired,” I managed. “Been a long day.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer. “Well, get your ass out here before the food’s gone. Gonna be a cold night, and you’ll need something hot in your belly.”
After he left, I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. I couldn’t hide in this tent forever, no matter how much I wanted to. I had to face Cole eventually, had to sit across from him at the fire and pretend nothing had happened. That his cum wasn’t still inside me. That I couldn’t still feel the ghost of his hands on my throat making me his.
The cold hit me like a brick wall when I finally emerged from the tent. The sky had cleared, revealing a canopy of stars sobright and numerous they seemed close enough to touch. Under different circumstances, I might have found it beautiful. Now, it just felt exposing, like those countless stars were witnesses to my shame.
The fire crackled in the center of our makeshift camp, surrounded by ranch hands huddled in thick coats. Cole sat among them, his face illuminated by the dancing flames. He didn’t look up as I approached, just continued staring into the fire like it held the answers to this entire mess. I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked in the firelight, each plane of his hard visage more rugged and beautiful than ever.
I took a seat as far from him as possible while still benefiting from the fire’s warmth. Someone handed me a tin plate of beans and beef, and I mumbled my thanks, not bothering to check who it was. The food was hot and filling, but I barely tasted it, mechanically shoveling it into my mouth while keeping my eyes fixed on my plate.
The ranch hands talked among themselves, sharing stories and jokes that would normally have interested me. Tonight, their voices were just background noise to the storm in my head. What the hell had I been thinking? I’d let things go too far. Hindsight suggested that Cole’s confession wasn’t an attempt to get me to indulge his fantasy, but to tell him it would never happen. To reject him permanently. And instead, I gave into my own fantasy.
I glanced up briefly, catching Cole’s gaze across the fire. For a split second, our eyes met, and I saw something there. It wasn’t disgust or anger, but pain. Raw, unfiltered pain. He looked away quickly, but that glimpse was enough to make my chest ache. I’d hurt him again.
One by one, the ranch hands finished their meals and drifted off to their tents. The temperature continued to drop, frostforming on the ground around us despite the fire’s warmth. Soon, it was just me, Cole, and Mitch left by the flames.
“I’ll take first watch,” Mitch offered, stretching his arms above his head. “Make sure the fire stays going and the horses don’t wander off again. Ya never know what kind of creatures these storms are gonna bring out.”
Cole nodded, still not looking in my direction. “Wake me for second shift.”
“Will do, boss,” Mitch replied, settling himself on a log with a thermos of coffee.
This was it. The moment I’d been dreading. Cole and I would have to return to our shared tent, to the scene of what had happened between us. My stomach twisted as I watched him stand, his movements stiff as he kicked snow from his boots.
“Night, Mitch,” I managed, rising to my feet.
The walk to our tent felt like a death march, each step bringing me closer to the inevitable confrontation. Cole entered first, ducking through the flap without holding it for me. Inside, he was already unzipping his sleeping bag that was separate from mine now, as far to the opposite side of the tent as possible.
I stood awkwardly in the entrance, unsure what to do. The air between us was thick with unspoken words.
“Cole,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We need to talk about what happened.”
“No, we don’t,” he replied, his back still turned to me. “Nothing happened.”
