Jesse nodded, which was something.
“You been around horses much?” Matt asked.
“Some,” Jesse answered. “But none that crap likethis.Holy shit, Urban—what’re you feeding them?”
The thing that had begun to coil tight in Matt’s gut relaxed. Whatever that moment had been—if it had been anything—it hadn’t changed things between them.
They settled down to work, Jesse bickering amiably with him every now and then. Matt found a new peace in the rhythm of thework, with the quietness of the barn broken only by the occasional rustle and stomp as a horse changed weight, and the presence of Jesse close to him.
Stalls finished, they returned to the house. Matt always thought of the kitchen as its heart. More than the living room, it was the place where everyone headed first, where they all congregated, in good times and bad.
Jesse was a step ahead of Matt through the back door when he froze. “Crap.”
“What?” Matt couldn’t see anything amiss. Jason was chopping vegetables by the stove, Tristan was in the middle of some story that involved a lot of arm waving, and Bryce was drinking coffee.
Jesse turned betrayed eyes on Matt. “You didn’t tell me Bryce is a damn cop.”
His reaction opened up a whole new can of worms Matt hadn’t even thought of. “You got any warrants out on you?”
Jesse scoffed. “I ain’t a fool, Matt. Just had a few run-ins over the years, is all.”
“Imagine that,” Matt marveled. “Who’d have thought, with your smart mouth and oh-so-agreeable attitude, butting heads with the local PD. Speaking of which, you should probably know—Bryce is my deputy. I’m sheriff of Elk Ridge.”
He grinned at the open-mouthed shock on Jesse’s face. Perhaps the first time he’d really taken Jesse by surprise, and it wasglorious.His wolf agreed, wanting nothing more than to curl up around Jesse and tease him gently.
At that reminder, Matt abruptly sobered. He couldn’t give in to the growing pleasure he was finding in Jesse’s company. Jesse was leaving, and that was the right thing.
“I need to brief you,” he said to Bryce, and led the way out of the kitchen to his den.
JESSE
Guessing he wasn’t invited, Jesse washed up—after Jason had sent him to the mudroom to do so. “Not the sink where I prepare the food. For God’ssake, Jesse.”
He thought he might have to revise his first impression of Jason as someone who wouldn’t say boo to a goose.
When he came back, he was drawn into helping Tristan set the table. Tristan was tall and rangy, reminding Jesse of nothing so much as a colt who hadn’t yet grown into his frame.
Tristan didn’t seem to have any qualms about sharing everything that crossed his mindasit crossed his mind. But to Jesse’s surprise, he had enough awareness—or manners—not to pry into Jesse’s presence here. Although his hazel eyes were full of questions as he looked at Jesse, bright and inquisitive, he merely asked how Jesse’s day had been.
“Sides from getting assaulted by chickens, you mean? I saw Missy’s foal.”
Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? I’ve been trying for days, but she never lets him come near the door when I’m around. Usually, she’s all over me for treats.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes, assessing him. From what little he’d seen, Tristan didn’t have a mean bone in his body. What he did have was a surplus of energy and a tendency to charge into spaces like an enthusiastic golden retriever. No wonder Missy panicked.
He glanced at Jason, who was at the stove doing something that smelled incredible with garlic and onions, and decided the kitchen was too crowded for what he had in mind.
“You want to come see him?” Jesse asked.
The answer was obvious. Tristan’s grin spread like wildfire, and he stepped on Jesse’s heel in his eagerness as he followed him out.
Instead of heading straight to the barn, Jesse steered him toward the table and benches beneath the big, spreading cottonwood in the center of the yard. There, he coached Tristan into breathing slowly and deeply, until his body relaxed.
When Jesse was finally satisfied, they walked—slowly and calmly—over to the barn. Tristan knew enough to stay back, and Jesse encouraged him to sit on the floor beside him, where they were even less of a disturbance. Missy snorted at them, keeping her foal behind her, and Jesse could feel Tristan start to tense beside him.
“Breathe,” he reminded him. “And then you can tell me what it’s like livin’ here.”
Suddenly,hewas the one who couldn’t breathe. He’d simply wanted to ask Tristan something unimportant, to get his mind off the foal so he’d calm down again, but somehowthatwas what had come out.
