I’ve never felt bad about my regular hookups. A person has needs, and when I meet up with a woman, we leave mutually satisfied. But somehow this message sours my mood.
What would Rosalie have to say about my roster? I don’t think she’d judge me, but something tells me it’d keep her more guarded, and that thought saddens me. I feel as though she’s letting me in—only a little bit, but a lot for her. I don’t want to do anything to compromise that.
Me: Thanks for the invite but I can’t.
Angela won’t be hurt or offended. Our relationship is purely physical. Come to think of it, I don’t know that I’ve ever had arelationship that wasn’t purely physical. I’ve never wanted more. At least, that’s how I’ve felt up until this year.
I don’t know if it’s my impending birthday or that everyone I went to high school with is coupled up and starting families, but recently the appeal of my lifelong bachelor plan has lost its luster. I still can’t imagine getting married or having kids, but I’m not allergic to the idea of a monogamous relationship. Not like I’ve been in the past.
This weekend with Rosalie cemented those feelings. It was nice to have someone to enjoy my day off with. I liked planning an outing for her. It felt good to do something with someone else’s needs in mind. It felt good to do something for her.
I don’t know exactly what I want with Rosalie. Hell, I don’t know that she’s open to anything other than friendship. But I don’t feel right keeping my options open when she’s the only woman on my mind.
Me: I’m off the market for a while.
I type out the text and press send before I overthink the decision. Yes, it’s a little premature. But I can’t expect Rosalie to invest time or energy exploring whatever this is between us if I’m still giving other women access to my life.
Angela: Off the market? I can’t believe the day has come! Sad day for women. Pussies are crying everywhere. And not in a good way.
I can’t help but chuckle at her joke. She makes it sound as if I’m out here servicing all the single ladies of Wilder Valley, and I’m certainly not. Sure, over the years I’ve hooked up with my fair share of willing partners. And maybe I took that to an extreme in my early twenties. I was devastated when my mom got cancer, and yeah, I canrecognize how I used sex to avoid my feelings. But I don’t do that anymore. My list of regular hookups is fairly small.
Me: The pussies will survive.
Angela: Yes, we will rebuild!
Angela: I’m happy for you, Jackson. Whoever it is must be pretty special. You deserve that.
“Jackson!” I’m staring at my phone when Ryan shouts my name. “Heads up!”
I whip my head up.
Nearly two tons of purebred muscle barrels straight for me and my horse.
“Shit!” I kick my heels and shout, barely moving out of the way as two steers thunder past, one chasing the other. My phone goes flying in the process. “Shit!”
The glint of the screen catches my eye, and I dismount to retrieve the device, relieved to find the screen is only covered in dust and not shattered. I shove it back into my pocket and climb back on my horse.
“Jackson,” my brother rides up to my side, pulling his reins to slow his approach. “Where’s your head today?”
“Sorry.” I lift my hat and rub my temple. “Didn’t sleep great.”
“Well, get your head on straight or you or someone is gonna wind up hurt.”
He’s right. There’s no room for daydreaming on the ranch. Especially when we’re moving cattle.
“Sorry,” I mutter, feeling every bit the little brother in this dynamic. I don’t love getting chastised in front of the crew, but in this case it’s deserved.
Overall, I don’t mind working for my brother. He’s been bossing me around since I learned to walk, and he’s a fair and honest man. Much more than our father ever was. But that doesn’t stop me fromfeeling like a child in situations like this. I don’t know that I’ll ever feel like an equal when it comes to working the ranch. Most days that doesn’t bother me. I’ve never wanted Ryan’s role. Too much responsibility. Too much paperwork. But sometimes I get the feeling he doesn’t see me as more than a hired hand. Does he know I’m capable of more?
My conversation with Rosalie about cooking the other night comes to mind. Have I dared to show him that I am? Maybe it’s time to start.
“We should get moving. That storm in the east looks rough, and the clouds are moving at a fast clip.”
Ryan tips his head to the sky and frowns. “You’re right.”
“They’ve had enough to make the trip.” I nod to where the herd is gathered at the watering station. “If we up the speed, we should be able to reach the pasture by noon. Want me to take the lead?”
“You want to lead?” The surprise in Ryan’s expression stings, but he quickly recovers and doesn’t give me time to answer. “Good call. Let’s get on the trail. It’s all you, little brother.” He nods, and maybe I imagine it, but there’s a hint of pride to his words.
