Chapter 14

Jackson

The tension inside the bar is rife, the silence heavy before Nicholas utters, "Partner?"

"What are you doing here, Nicholas?" Ash asks, ignoring his ex's question and curling his hand over the top of my own.

My heart is pounding so heavily I can hear it in my ears.

Nicholas's arm falls back to his side, his eyes swinging between me and Ash. Finally, he focuses his attention Ash's way. "Like I said, I need to talk to you."

"Okay," Ash says slowly. "So talk."

The guy looks Virginia's way, like maybe she might rescue him. But she doesn't move a muscle, her face a blank mask. Looking back at Ash, he says, "Could we go somewhere private?"

"We can talk here," Ash says, giving my fingers a quick squeeze before he heads toward the table.

I quickly follow, grabbing the seat next to him as Virginia stands. "I'll grab drinks," she says, walking off.

Slowly, Nicholas retakes his seat, angling his chair Ash's way. "You left quickly," he says.

I nearly wince. Strike one for the ex. Starting off with an accusation.

Ash stiffens next to me, and I give the back of his neck a squeeze, fingers sifting through the soft hair at his nape. There's a distant part of me wondering what in the hell it is I'm doing, but the voice is easily ignored.

"That was my choice to make," Ash answers calmly.

"But we didn't get a chance to talk things through," Nicholas responds, placing his palm flat on the table, almost like an offering. His eyes flit to me again before he says, voice low, "Does he have to be here?"

Ash's lips tip up the tiniest bit, his smile sharper than usual. "You can ask him to leave if you want. I don't control him."

Nicholas's eyes flick to me. "Could you give us some privacy, please?"

"No thanks," I answer.

Ash huffs a laugh beside me as Nicholas frowns.

"Nick," Ash says before making a soft sound and starting again. "Nicholas, I suggest you say what you came here to. I'm here. I'm listening. But I'm not feeling very patient."

Nicholas lets out a breath. "I want you to come home."

My hand flexes against the back of Ash's neck.

"It's not my home," Ash answers. "And I'm sorry if you're having second thoughts, but I'm not. We're done."

"Just like that?"

"There was no just about it," Ash says, voice taking on a flintier edge. "We were roommates, Nick. For a long time. Do you even remember the last time we had sex?"

Nicholas's face shutters, and he sits back in his seat, tension lining his frame.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to be a criticism," Ash says softly, letting out a sigh and setting his elbows on the table. I shift my hand down to his lower back, not wanting to let go. "It's not about sex. There was no intimacy left between us, and you know it."

"So—what?" Nicholas says, tone harsh. "You just ran and jumped into someone else's bed?"

"Don't," Ash replies, his voice surprisingly calm. "We were broken up, and this"—he motions between him and me—"has nothing to do with us . Don't try to twist this around on me. You had your chance to ask me to stay, and you didn't."

"Would you have if I'd asked?"

"No," Ash answers simply.

I release a breath.

Nicholas looks off to the side of the bar, where a row of saddles are hung up along the wall as coat hooks. His jaw is tense, and I don't know him well enough to tell if his expression is one of stubbornness or resignation.

Virginia takes that moment to return, setting four glasses with a finger each of what I assume to be whiskey down on the table before reclaiming her seat. She toys with her glass, looking around at the rest of us.

"What's really going on here?" Ash asks, breaking the silence. "This isn't like you, coming all this way just because I didn't pick up the phone."

"You can be impulsive, but I can't?" Nicholas says, grabbing his glass. He sniffs the contents before downing it, trying to contain his small wince.

"Fair enough," Ash mutters.

"I miss you," his ex says roughly, setting his glass down with a clunk and staring resolutely at Ash. "I miss you, Ashley. The house is so… empty without you there."

Virginia and I exchange a glance, and I do my best not to jump in— again —knowing I've already overstepped. As it turns out, I don't have to do a thing. Of course Ash is perfectly capable of defending himself.

"I'm not a couch or a placeholder to keep your loneliness at bay," he says seriously. "If you want company, adopt a pet."

"I didn't mean—"

"You did," Ash says. "You always liked being needed, Nicholas, and there's nothing wrong with that. But I'm not your boyfriend anymore, or your patient, or your…your houseplant. I'm not yours , period."

Nicholas heaves a breath, but Ash goes on.

"Look, I'm sorry you came all this way, but nothing has changed for me. We're done, and I'm not coming back."

There's a prolonged pause before Nicholas seems to deflate. Ash sits back, too, leaning into my touch.

"I might stick around a while," Nicholas says, making me tense.

Ash only chuckles. "You always did want to vacation in the mountains. You're overdue."

Nicholas nods tiredly, wiping his hand down his face. "Yeah. This is the first time in two years I've taken time off. I assume there's a hotel in this town?"

"Right down the street," Virginia answers tightly, shooting Ash a look. He doesn't seem to notice.

Nicholas stands, hesitating. "I guess…I'll see you later then?"

Ash smiles a little sadly. "Take care, Nick."

He nods, eyes flicking to me once before he walks off. The door closes slowly in his wake, and then Virginia spins Ash's way.

"Really?" she says. "Inviting him to stay?"

"I didn't invite him," Ash replies, practically slumping against the table. "Telling him to get lost wasn't going to accomplish anything, Ginnie. Whatever he's doing here, it's not about me. Not really."

"Uh," Virginia says slowly. "Did you miss the part where he said he misses you and wants you back?"

Ash shakes his head, picking up his glass of whiskey and taking a small sip. "He doesn't. Something else is going on. Maybe he's the one having a midlife crisis."

Virginia clicks her tongue. "Well, I sure as shit hope you're right, baby boy. 'Cause otherwise, I'm pretty sure Jackson here will be showing him the door. Likely with his boot."

I try to temper my lingering scowl, but by Ash's huff of laughter, I don't think I managed it.

"Yeah, about that," Ash says, turning in his chair to face me. He wings up an eyebrow. "Partner?"

"And on that note," Virginia sing-songs, standing swiftly and grabbing her and Nicholas's empty glasses, "I'll just be, uh…watering the flowers."

She walks off, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor, and Ash waits. I reclaim my arm, rubbing my hands on the tops of my thighs.

"Yeah," I say, voice a bit gruff. "Uh. Sorry."

His eyebrow lifts higher. "Sorry?"

"About the, uh…"

"The dick-measuring contest you had with my ex?" he fills in.

"I didn't—"

"Jackson, you practically whipped it out and pissed on me."

I groan, but fuck , he's not even wrong. "I just thought… I don't know what I was thinking. Like I said, sorry."

"I never asked you to apologize," Ash says, downing the rest of his drink before setting his glass on the table.

"But—"

I pull in a breath as Ash shifts, bringing us closer. He takes hold of my jaw, his fingers stroking lightly over my beard hairs. "I liked it, Jack," he says, gaze holding mine, brazen and clear. "If we weren't in public, I'd show you just how much."

My breath hitches, and Ash's lips curl into a smile. He lets me go as Virginia walks back into the room.

"Do I need to water more flowers?" she asks bluntly.

Ash huffs a laugh. "What would you say to lunch, Ginnie? Jackson's treat."

"Well," Virginia says, hazel eyes swinging my way. "I'd say lead the way, cowboy."

It's midafternoon by the time Ash and I get back to the ranch. I pull the truck to a stop, tug up the parking brake, and wait, not sure what to expect now that we're finally alone.

For Ash to dress me down?

For him to jump me?

Neither happens. He hops out of the truck and looks at me expectantly. I follow him out of the vehicle, boots kicking up dirt.

"You have a few minutes?" he asks.

Technically, there's a lot I need to do today: check in with my weekend crew, assess a damaged portion of fence one of the ranchers noticed, and order some new machinery for the milking barn. But I nod, and Ash smiles in response.

We walk in silence for a minute, heading along the dirt road that leads to the petting farm.

Finally, Ash says, "Ginnie likes you, you know."

I grunt. "'Cause I know what she's capable of."

He stutters a step, looking at me with wide eyes. "What? She's not violent ."

"No," I say with a scoff. "That's not what I meant. I don't know her like you do, of course. We were never close. But we grew up together. Went to school together, even though I graduated…what? Five years ahead of her?"

Ash nods, looking at me curiously, and I go on.

"I've seen folks underestimate your friend," I tell him. "Guys or, heck, even teachers, just because she's small and a woman. Virginia is only harsh to the folks who don't show her the respect she deserves. The respect anyone does. I'm not that foolish. Hence, we get along just fine."

Ash huffs a breath, shaking his head as we come to a stop in front of the petting farm. He kicks a hip against the fence and crosses his arms loosely, peering at me in a way that makes me feel like I'm under a microscope.

"Just when I think you can't surprise me any more, you go and say something like that," he says, blonde hair blowing gently in the breeze. It falls in front of his eyes, and he swipes it back, nimble fingers tucking the strands away behind his ear.

I clear my throat, pulse heavy. "I'm not actually an asshole."

"Never thought you were," he says easily. "But a few weeks ago, you would have brushed off my comment about Ginnie liking you, probably grumbling all the while. You wouldn't have said something so…revealing. Not to me."

He's not wrong, but admitting I've… softened toward him isn't an easy thing to do. So I lean my elbows on the fence and watch the families inside the petting farm enjoy their Sunday afternoon. The goats will be well fed today.

Ash shifts his posture to mimic mine, our elbows brushing. "I was fourteen when I had my first boyfriend," he says, voice quiet enough not to carry. "It wasn't anything serious, obviously. We barely even kissed. But I remember asking my mom how to tell him I liked him. She told me to be patient. To wait for the right time because I have a tendency to come on too strong, and that I might scare him off."

He huffs a small breath, and I glance over at him. There's a half-smile on his face as he watches Snickerdoodle attempting to steal carrots out of a child's hand.

"Coy is not my strong suit, Jack. It never has been, and it never will be. I don't like playing games, either. You called me your partner."

My heart pounds as Ash meets my gaze, unflinching. His pinkie nudges mine, the smallest touch. The biggest.

"You meant it," he says, eyebrows popping up as if amazed. "At least, you wanted it to be true. So I'm telling you I want that, too. I know we're just figuring this out, and we don't have to define anything if you don't want. But… I'm in this, Jack. I'm going to treat you like my partner. Because when I look at you, and when I look around at this place, I don't see temporary. I see what I want my life to be. So I'm warning you, one last time, if you want me to back off, you need to say so. Now."

There's static in my head. A whole lot of noise mixed up with the rushing of wind and the pumping of blood through my veins. There's this man standing in front of me telling me he wants to give this a go. That, out of everywhere he could be traveling, he wants to hang up his hat here. That there's something here worth exploring.

I don't know if I have the conscious thought or my body moves before my mind has caught up, but when I find my lips pressed to Ash's, I don't regret it. He makes a small sound against me, his hand coming up to fit to my cheek. It's not a kiss of passion or even one of lust. It's something infinitely more terrifying, and Ash accepts it with ease, his mouth soft, his sigh even softer. I feel fragile as I pull back, stripped down in a way that has never come easy to me.

As if he knows as much, Ash doesn't call attention to it. He simply gives my collar a tug and smiles. "Noted," he says, facing the petting farm againand clearing his throat. "What kind of chickens are those? The ones with the fancy head floofs."

It takes me a moment to recalibrate. "Fancy head floofs?"

"What else would you call them?"

"Feathers," I say flatly.

Ash snorts, smacking me on the chest for reasons unknown. "What are they?"

"Silkies," I answer. "Not very good egg layers, but folks love 'em."

"I can see why. They look soft."

We both watch as a young toddler tries to touch one of the chickens. The chick deftly evades them. Silkies have calmer temperaments than many breeds, and, yes, softer feathers, which makes them good pets. But even the happiest chicken knows to avoid a tottering child.

Ash turns, leaning his back on the fence as he looks in the other direction, off toward the mountains. He lets out a soft sigh before rolling his head my way. "You need to get to work," he says, not a question.

I nod.

"What's your favorite food?"

"My…what?" I ask, thrown.

"Your favorite food," he repeats, a small smile on his face. "Remi likes biscuits. Colton, as he told me—with an entirely straight face, mind you—prefers sausage that's big enough to ‘really feel the weight of it on your tongue.'" Ash raises an eyebrow, and I snort. My oblivious, straight brother. "And Lawson is a fan of beef stew because it's Wendy's favorite, which is just the cutest. So how about you?"

It takes me a long moment to answer him. "Rice pudding."

I half expect him to make a joke. Maybe tease me that pudding is a dessert , not a food . But he doesn't. He only hums. "Rice pudding. Got it. Shall we?"

Feeling all sorts of mixed up in a way I'm not used to, I nod, and the two of us leave the petting farm behind. Ash splits off to head into the main house, and I turn to watch him go. When he disappears through the dining room door, it takes considerable effort to continue on my way toward the milking barn. For once, all I want is to ignore my responsibilities for a little while and do something selfish. Something that involves the man inside the ranch house. The one who grabbed on with both hands when I called him partner . The one who looks at home in a pair of brand-new cowboy boots, the mountains a backdrop behind him.

I don't skip work. Not this time.

But I know, in the depth of me, he'd be worth it.