“Are you going to fuck me all day long?” I countered. “Because if not, I need some fresh air, some sun, and some fucking shred of independence back in my life.”
“Okay, okay,” Nick sighed, putting his hands up in mock defeat. “We’ll go outside. But nothing else. You can walk and look and sit. That’s all. Got it?”
“Yessir,” I answered, putting extra emphasis on that last word. I knew it drove Nick crazy and teasing him was probablymy favorite thing to do. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating just a fraction.Got him.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but there was heat in his voice that made my stomach flip.
Twenty minutes later, I was standing on the porch of the main house, breathing in the crisp Montana air like it was the first breath I’d ever taken. The sun was warm on my face, cutting through the morning chill, and I could smell pine and grass and something sweet I couldn’t quite place. Maybe wildflowers down by the creek.
“Better?” Nick asked, standing close enough that his shoulder brushed mine.
“So much better,” I admitted, closing my eyes and tilting my face up. The breeze moved across my skin, cool and perfect, and I could hear the distant sound of cattle, the creak of the barn door, someone calling out instructions across the yard.
I’d been so focused on getting out of that room that I hadn’t really thought about what being outside meant. It meant people. Ranch hands. Eyes on us. On me.
My chest tightened. Would they be able to tell something had changed? Would they care? And if they did, would word get back to my father somehow?
“Hey,” Nick said softly, his hand finding the small of my back where no one could see. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. Then, more honestly. “I don’t know. Feels weird being out here now.”
I felt exposed standing there, like someone might look at me and just know what Nick and I had been doing behind closed doors. Like they’d see the marks he’d left on my skin under my clothes or somehow sense the way everything between us had shifted.
“Weird how?” Nick asked, his hand still resting against my back, hidden from view.
“Like everyone’s watching.” I scanned the property, taking in the ranch hands moving about their business. Most of them didn’t even glance our way. “Like they know.”
“They don’t know anything,” Nick said firmly. “And even if they did, this is our ranch. Our business. Not theirs. Besides, did they expect us to hate each other forever?”
Our ranch. The way he said it, like we were actually partners in this instead of me being the guy who’d forced him into marriage, made something warm bloom in my chest.
“Your dad’s waving us over,” I said, spotting Mr. Wesley near the barn with Angelo.
Nick’s hand dropped from my back as we started walking, and I immediately missed the contact. We kept a careful distance between us as we crossed the yard, close enough to talk but far enough apart that no one would think twice about it.
“Morning, boys,” Mr. Wesley called out as we approached. He looked better than he had in weeks. There was more color in his face, less tension in his shoulders. Working with Angelo seemed to have reassured him that I wasn’t planning on killing off the entire family in the dead of night. Still, he wouldn’t look me in the eye for long. “Ribs doing better?”
“Better every day,” I said, which was mostly true. They still ached, especially when I moved wrong or when Nick got a little too enthusiastic in bed, but the sharp, stabbing pain had faded to a dull throb.
“That’s good to hear.” He nodded toward the barn. “Angelo’s been telling me about some ideas he has for expanding the cattle operation. Thought you might want to weigh in, since you’re the one signing the checks.”
I glanced at Angelo, who looked uncharacteristically nervous. The big guy shuffled his feet and wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.
“What kind of ideas?” I asked, genuinely curious. Angelo had surprised me more than once since we’d gotten here. Maybe he had another one up his sleeve.
“Well,” Angelo started, then stopped. He looked at Nick, then at Nick’s father, then finally at me. “I was thinking we could maybe use some of that back pasture land. The stuff that’s just sitting empty right now. Jim says it used to be good grazing land before they had to cut back on cattle numbers.”
“We could support maybe fifty more head if we utilized it properly,” Mr. Wesley added. “Would mean more work, more hands, but also more profit down the line.”
I considered this, my mind automatically running through the numbers. The initial investment wouldn’t be small. We’d need to repair fencing, possibly drill a new well, and hire at least two more hands. But the Wesley’s knew this land better than anyone, and if he said it could work...
“What do you think?” I asked Nick, wanting his input. This was his family’s legacy as much as anything.
Nick looked surprised that I’d asked. His eyes searched my face for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if I was serious. Then his expression softened.
“I think it’s worth considering,” he said slowly. “That land’s been sitting idle for too long. My grandfather used to run cattle on it before...” He trailed off, and I knew he was thinking about the financial troubles that had led to all of this.
“Before your family hit hard times,” I finished for him, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “But that’s different now. We have the capital to make it work.”
