“Lieutenant, you keep leadin’ that crew the way you have been. You keep showin’ up the way your father did.”
I nod.
“You’re gonna do just fine. And he would be very proud you for that.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. But then he stands and offers his hand across the desk. And I take it. His grip is firm and steady, and I swear I see something like pride glint in his eyes.
“Lieutenant,” he says.
I nod. “Chief.”
When I step back onto the bay floor, the noise of the station hits me all at once. Laughter from the kitchen, a wrench clanking somewhere near the engine, the low hum of the radio. And just like that, the weight of this decision evaporates.
It’s done. I did it.
I followed my heart and was honest with myself.
My shift’s over, and as I climb into my truck, I decide to follow my heart again and go to the one place that’s calling to me.
By the time I pull onto the long dirt road that leads to the ranch, the sun is starting to dip low enough to turn the whole place gold. I sit in the truck for a second longer than necessary, the engine ticking as it cools. It’s ridiculous how wound up I feel. I turned down the promotion. That’s it. No disaster. No life-altering event. But it still feels like I cracked something open inside my chest, and now I’m not entirely sure what to do with it.
The barn doors are open as I walk up, the familiar scent of hay and leather hanging in the warm, late afternoon air. I hear the slow scrape of a shovel before I see him. Without even looking, I know it’s him. And I know we’re alone.
Gentry’s in one of the stalls, pushing fresh bedding around the small space. At the sound of boots on concrete, he looks up.“Well,” he says, leaning on the shovel handle. “You look like a man who either won the lottery or ran over his own foot.”
I huff out a small chuckle. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” I pause, dragging in a deep breath. “I turned down the promotion.”
He watches me quietly. No judgement. Just listening.
“It’s what I should’ve done a while ago. I like where I’m at, and that shouldn’t change simply because it’s what should come next.”
“Good for you, Remington,” he says genuinely. My chest aches. “Most men spent half their lives climbin’ ladders they never actually wanted to be on in the first place. Takes a lot of guts to go against the grain.”
Something tight and heavy shifts in my chest. “I just…” I blow out a breath. “I want a life that actually feels like mine.” The words come out rougher than I mean for them to.
Gentry studies my face for a moment, then something softens in his expression. “Come here,” he murmurs quietly.
Before I can even think of moving, he pulls me into him. One arm wraps around my shoulders, his hand pressing into my back. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until just now.
“You did good,” he whispers against my ear.
I laugh weakly into his shoulder. “I’m weirdly emotional about it.”
“That’s because you made a real choice.” He pulls back enough to look at me. “Not a convenient one. Not the one people clap for. The real one.”
My heart squeezes, and the back of my throat aches. I don’t know what to say. It’s not necessarily the words that have me choked up, butwhois saying them. “Thank you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gentry’s gaze dips to my mouth before coming back up. “You don’t need to thank me,” he murmurs before dipping his headdown and pressing his lips to mine. It’s soft and gentle, not meant to go anywhere. But it’s exactly what I need.
When the kiss ends, neither of us says anything for a moment.
“I better get home. Lukas is waitin’ for me.”
Gentry nods. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
Smiling, I say, “Me too.”
Twenty-Seven
