Silence settles for a second.
Then—he exhales and turns to me.
“About last night,” he says.
I stiffen.
“Don’t,” I mutter.
He ignores that too.
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were on your own,” he says, voice steady.
I glance at him.
He meets my eyes.
“If Esme’s yours,” he continues, slow and deliberate, “then she belongs to the ranch.”
My chest tightens again.
“And we protect what’s ours,” he finishes.
Something in me shifts at that.
Not relief.
Not exactly.
But something close.
“You sure about that?” I ask, because I need to hear it.
Because this isn’t just about me.
This is about everything we’ve built.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Yeah,” he says. “I am.”
Then, after a beat, he adds, “You’re not alone in this, Benji.”
The words land.
Deep.
Because I didn’t expect them.
Didn’t ask for them.
But I damn sure needed to hear them.
I nod once, slow.
“Appreciate it.”
He takes a sip of his coffee, then smirks just a little.
