For the first time in my life, I didn’t fight the urge to reach for him. I pulled him against me, my mouth finding his in a kiss that was gentler than before, but no less intense. He melted into it, his body molding against mine as if it belonged there.
When we finally broke apart, he was breathless, his eyes wide with surprise. “Well,” he said, a little dazed. “That’s one way to shut me up.”
I found myself smiling, actually smiling, as I released him. “First thing that’s ever actuallyworked.”
Jesse gave me some serious side eye. “I’m gonna let you get away with that one. But just this once.”
Jesse’s laugh echoed off the bathroom walls, warming something inside me that had been cold for far too long.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing my clothes. “Let’s go clean up our mess.”
Chapter 19
Cole
“Ihear you boys have been keepin’ busy,” Mr. Whitaker said as he climbed out of his black SUV. His boots crunched in the snow as he stepped toward the house, briefcase in hand. “Evelyn seems to think you’re not gonna have any cattle left by spring at this rate.”
“Yeah, we’re doin’ alright,” I replied, beckoning him toward the house. “Been so damn busy I barely have time to do chores.”
“So, you and Jesse have been working together to pack all these orders?”
I let out a loud sigh, trying to make it convincing that I wasn’t enjoying myself. It would be suspicious if things had gotten too amicable too quickly.
“He’s a pain in my ass,” I replied. “But I’m startin’ to see he’s got a good head on his shoulders. At least where business is concerned.”
Mr. Whitaker nodded, following me into the house. “Your daddy was right. That boy has skills this ranch needed.”
“That he does,” I agreed, hanging up my hat as I led the lawyer into the kitchen. I wasn’t ready to be too effusive about Jesse’s contributions just yet. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. His ego’s already big enough.”
Mr. Whitaker chuckled, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table. “How’s the living arrangement working out? Last time I was here, you two looked like you were about to tear each other’s throats out.”
I tensed slightly, wondering if he’d picked up on anything during his previous visits. “We’ve... come to an understanding,” I said carefully. “We’re civil. Professional.”
“Civil, huh?” Mr. Whitaker raised an eyebrow as he unbuttoned his coat. “Well, that’s more than I expected, to be honest.”
I busied myself with making coffee, keeping my back to him so he couldn’t see my face. Three weeks of sneaking around with Jesse had me on edge anytime someone asked about our relationship. Every question felt like a trap, like they somehow knew what we were doing behind closed doors. We did everything we could to keep it a secret. Hell, I even fought with him at breakfast most days. Although that part of it wasn’t exactly staged. Jesse still annoyed the piss out of me.
“You want some coffee?” I asked, changing the subject. “Evelyn made a fresh pot before she headed into town.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He settled into a chair at the table, opening his briefcase. “So where is Jesse today? I’d like to go over some paperwork with both of you.”
“Post office run,” I replied, pouring two mugs. “Should be back any minute. He’s been handling most of the customer side of things.”
Mr. Whitaker accepted the coffee with a nod of thanks. “Smart division of labor. You manage the ranch, he handles the online business. Playing to your strengths.”
I grunted in response, not wanting to admit how well we’d been working together lately. Not just in business, but in other ways too. Ways I definitely didn’t want Mr. Whitaker thinking about.
“The will’s conditions seem to be working out exactly as your father hoped,” he continued, pulling out some papers. “The ranch is turning a profit for the first time in years, and you two haven’t killed each other yet.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. If only he knew how far from killing each other we’d gone.
“Yeah, well,” I mumbled into my coffee, “we’re making it work. We have to if we want to keep the ranch.”
The sound of the front door opening saved me from further conversation. Jesse’s voice called out from the entryway, “Cole? You home?”
“In the kitchen,” I called back, my pulse quickening despite my best efforts to remain calm. “Mr. Whitaker’s here.”
Jesse appeared in the doorway, his cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes still melting in his hair. He looked good. Too good, as usual. I had to force myself to look away before my face betrayed me.
