Chapter 28

Jackson

"Now we'll ease into plank," Annabelle says, her back straight as she balances on her toes and forearms. "Try to keep position, even if you get some company."

The class mimics her, some chuckling as goats climb on their backs or try to nibble their fingers. The kids of the goat variety love it, happy to dance around the class and get attention.

Ash seems to love it, too. He's right in the middle of the group, stretched out along his blue yoga mat. There's a wide smile on his face and a laugh at the corner of his mouth as he tries to flick his hair away from one of the goats without breaking his pose. The little bugger goes back in for another chomp.

Virginia comes to Ash's rescue, giving the goat a gentle nudge until it hops away.

"I like this," my mom says, leaning on the fence beside me.

I grunt, glancing her way. "What's that?"

"Growth," she says simply. "Forward momentum. It's good to see. Both for the ranch…and for my sons."

"Sentimental," I mutter.

My mom laughs. "Takes one to know one, Jackson dear."

She ignores my grumble.

"What did I used to tell you, hm?" she asks, nudging my arm. "When the days seemed dark…"

I sigh. "I just had to wait 'cause the sun was coming."

"That's right," she says firmly. "And look. Here he is."

My eyes seek out Ash again. He's lying on his back now, grinning up at the sky. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything as lovely as him.

"You here to gloat?" I ask my mother. "Take credit for the two of us coming together?"

She huffs a short laugh. "I can't take credit for that, much as I want to. It wouldn't have happened if it weren't right."

I can't argue with that.

" But ," she says.

"Oh, here we go."

"I would accept a thank-you for giving y'all a nudge. If you were so inclined."

I clamp my teeth together. "I'm not thanking you for keeping him here against his will."

"It was hardly against his will. He was happy to stay."

"You tricked him."

"Did no such thing," she says. "I only offered him a room."

"Instead of a vehicle."

"Are we gonna go around and around again? I'm happy to dance, Jackson, but you'll never out-step me."

"When you get old," I say slowly, "I'm gonna stick you in a home."

"You never would," she says easily.

No , I wouldn't.

"Come on," my mom says, looping her arm with mine. "Walk me back to the house."

I eye her as we turn around. " Are you getting old?"

She snorts. "I'm not a day over forty-five and never will be."

My laughter is loud. My mom pinches my arm.

When we get back to the house, my dad intercepts us at the door, looking downright giddy. My mom appraises him with a wary eye, as she should.

"What's going on, Hank?" she asks.

"Come, come," he says, waving us toward the kitchen.

At a loss, the two of us follow.

My dad picks up a small plate from the table. On it is a biscuit cut in half and smothered in what looks like honey. He holds it out toward my mom. "Here. Put this in your mouth."

My mom, rightfully , doesn't move a muscle. "What'd I tell you about making demands, Hank Darling? You want something in my mouth, you ask nicely."

"Oh, Jesus," I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. "I want that gone. I want that memory gone."

" Please ," my dad says, sounding contrite. "Just trust me, Mari."

I let my hands drop in time to see my mother accept the offering. She picks up the biscuit and takes a bite, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Is that…"

"Lavender honey," my dad fills in. "Did I get it right?"

My mom looks absolutely stunned. The plate lowers in her hand as she stares at my dad. "Did you get a colony of bees, take up beekeeping, of all hobbies, and spend an entire evening in the hospital after you forgot to wear your gear just so you could source your own honey?"

"Grew the lavender myself, too," he says proudly. "Took three seasons. I would've had a better honey yield, but it's only my first year. We'll get more next time. I think they like the pink hive. It's got a good energy, y'know? Pink makes folks happy. Suspect it's the same for bees."

"Why?" my mother asks.

My dad cocks his head. "You said you liked lavender honey. Couldn't find it anywhere around here, remember?"

"That was four years ago," she nearly whispers.

"It was. Took a while to get everything right, but I think it tastes pretty good. What d'you think?"

I leave my moon-eyed mother with her ex-husband, dutifully ignoring the sound of my dad's surprise as he gets the stuffing kissed out of him.

None of my business.

It's surprisingly warm as I finish out my afternoon of work. Snow will be here before we know it, but fall isn't quite ready to go. It seems to have gifted us with the perfect day before it's gone, too. The leaves have all but fallen, the ground littered in gold and brown. But the sky is blue and the air a pleasant whisper against my forearms as Starlight and I head back to the stables.

I'm just shutting the door to his stall when I hear a bell. A rather familiar bell these days. Letting out a sigh, I pull a date from my pocket.

"This is the last time," I grumble, holding it out as the Darling Donkey trots happily over. He snags the treat from my palm, teeth grazing a little too close to skin for comfort. "I mean it. No more."

He sniffs at my pocket, and I offer him a tentative pat.

"Thank you," I add a bit begrudgingly, not for the first time.

The donkey tries to take a bite out of my jeans, and I curse, pushing him gently away before heading out of the barn.

I have time to shower before dinner, so I walk the short way down the drive to my house and do just that. It's as I'm sifting through my closet, looking for a fresh shirt, that I find something I'd all but forgotten was here.

I tug the sleeve of the flannel out from the very back of the rack. The shirt is buffalo plaid. Brown and orange. It was Otto's—the one thing he left here, forgotten or by choice, I'm not sure which.

I let my fingers run over the fabric for a moment, trying to drum up even a hint of those feelings that used to swamp me every time I thought of my ex. But there's nothing. No lingering regret. No anger. No pain. There's just an empty space, a box where memories used to live. It's aired out now, full of nothing but dust.

In my head, I close that box. Push it aside. I don't need it anymore.

Warm arms circle me from behind, hands landing flat on my chest. Ash leans his chin over my shoulder, his palms giving me a cheeky little squeeze.

"I like finding you naked," he says.

"I'm wearing a towel," I point out.

One of his hands slips down, giving the edge of the towel a tug. It falls to my feet. "Naked," he says.

I huff a laugh, letting the sleeve of the flannel go. "You get everything squared away with your new truck?"

"Edith is parked out front and happy to be here," he answers. "She's such a pretty red."

"Just like Edna."

"Mhm," he hums, hands back on my pecs, lips pressing a quick kiss to my neck. "You were staring at that shirt for a while. Is something wrong with it?"

I let out a sigh, curling one of my hands over Ash's wrist. "It was Otto's."

He's quiet for a moment. "What do you want to do with it? Burn it? Make a pincushion?"

I snort before sobering. "I wanna let it go."

He gives my neck another kiss. "I have an idea," he says, bending down to grab my towel. He backs slowly toward the doorway with it in hand.

"And what would that be?" I ask, turning to watch him.

"It's supposed to be a full moon tonight," he says, lips lifting at the corner. "Want to make it a triple?"

It takes a second for his meaning to compute. "Ash…"

He tosses the towel over his shoulder and unbuttons his jeans. "Come on, Jack. You said that night was because of him, right? So let's take it back. Let's make it our own."

My heart thumps as Ash drops his pants and underwear down to his feet. He tugs off his shirt next and then wraps the towel around his bare neck.

"Go skinny-dipping with me?"

I shake my head, even as I'm smiling. "What do you think?"

"That you're not going to say no to me."

"You'd be right," I admit.

Ash grins, a big, beaming thing, as I walk toward him. He starts backing up again, naked as the day he was born.

"It's not dark yet," I point out, not that I think that'll stop him.

"It will be soon," he says, reaching the back door. He twists the handle. "Race you?"

Against all common sense, I find myself running next to Ash as we head toward the river. It's ridiculous, beyond reckless, but neither of us cares. The grass is brittle underfoot, the occasional leaf crunching, and even though the sun has started to set, anybody looking our way would see two grown-ass men streaking across the ranch.

Ash makes it to the river first, dropping the towel and then yipping when his toes touch water. "Oh, fuck," he says, doing a little dance that has me gasping for breath after the run we took.

I follow him in, cursing as the cool water flows up to my ankles, my knees, my cock. I cup myself on instinct as my balls try to recede into my body.

"Fucking fuck," Ash says, his ass peeking out over the water. "I didn't know it'd be so damn cold."

"It's nearly winter. Of course it's cold."

"Fuck," he says again.

I laugh, a sound that takes Ash by surprise, if his grin is any indication. He walks over to me, arms out at his sides for balance, the base of his cock visible as he tries not to sink too far into the water.

"So what now?" he asks, beautiful and wet and so very mine.

"We look at the mountains and contemplate life," I tell him.

"Is that what you did?" Ash asks, turning to the west and leaning against my side.

I nod, the both of us shivering. "It is."

"All right, then."

We're quiet for half a minute before I say, "My mom used to tell me this story. About the sun. And the mountains."

"Yeah?" he asks.

I nod, watching the color that's bleeding across the sky. The sun is a small sliver of gold now above the mountain's peak, casting everything in coppers and reds and even dusky purple. "She said the sun loved the mountains very much. Had since the beginning of time. But the mountains were stuck, you see. Forged in stone and bound to the earth, no matter how hard they tried to reach up into the sky. So the sun had to chase them. Every day. Every night."

Ash hums, looking over at me, and I go on.

"So that's exactly what the sun did. It flew across the sky, every day, every night, without fail, until it could be with the mountains again. When the world went dark, the sun and the mountains were together. They were one."

Ash slips his hand into mine, his fingers chilled but his grip sure.

"It was just a bedtime story," I say. "Meant to make me less afraid of the dark. But when I was scared or when I was sad, my mom would remind me that the sun was coming. That good things were ahead."

I let out a breath and look to my side. Ash is watching me steadily.

" You are my sun, Ash," I tell him seriously. "My sunshine. My good thing ahead. Thank you for chasing me, even when I was being a stubborn ass about it."

"Fuck, Jack," he says quietly, tightening his grip in mine. "I…" He cuts off, huffing what might be a laugh and shaking his head. "When I came to Darling, I was singing this song. I remember because my car had just broken down, and Earl picked me up on the side of the road, and I was fairly sure I was going to die."

My chuckle is hoarse, and Ash smiles, a gentle thing.

"So I remember that moment pretty well. It was Cat Stevens, the song. It felt fitting. Because I'd traveled west on the setting sun. And I never, not once, wanted water. I didn't want that place I came from."

He eases out a breath, and I swear I hold my own, my lungs needing his words like oxygen.

"I think I was born for this life, Jack. Maybe even born for you. Maine was never home for me. And I didn't know what home was until I came here and saw those damn mountains. Until I found you."

"Ash."

"So if I'm your sun, then you're my mountains, Jackson Darling. Any running I do will be to come home to you."

My eyes prick, and I blink rapidly, that promise something I didn't know I needed. It's hard, sometimes, to let go of our hurt. To move past it. But Ash has made it easier. Whether it's him or simply him at the right time, I don't know. I don't think it much matters.

He's here. He's not going. Won't ever go. I trust that. I just do.

I bring his hand up to my lips. "I wouldn't have let you go. Not like he did."

His eyes soften, understanding there. Ash isn't my ex, no. And neither am I his.

"I would have fought for you," I go on. "I will always fight for you."

His lips tremble as I kiss his knuckles, my hands doing their best to keep his warm. His voice is almost amused when he says, "I can't believe we're doing this with our dicks out while we freeze our balls off in a river. First the hayloft, now this?"

My laughter is a raspy thing, sharp almost in the quiet night.

Ash leans against me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "We'll both fight for this. It's what you do when you're partners."

"Partners."

"Yeah, Jack. That's us." He hums before adding, "Look."

The sun is barely visible now, the smallest hint of gold above the mountains. I sigh as it sinks fully away.

"I like that story," Ash says softly.

"Me, too."

He loops his arm through my own, the both of us huddling together for warmth as the river laps at the tops of our thighs. "So…" Ash says slowly. "How long do we stay out here? Not that I'm complaining, exactly. But I'm starting to lose sensation in my dick."

I snort through my nose. The sound turns into a chuckle and then a full-out belly laugh. Ash laughs with me, the two of us clinging to one another as we freeze. It takes me a moment to hear the other noise coming from behind us. The hooting and hollering.

"Oh, hell," I mutter.

"Is that…" Ash turns his head, looking over my shoulder. "Yep. That's everyone, isn't it?"

He lifts a hand and waves at what is surely the entire dinner crowd at the ranch house having caught us in the nude. I decide if I don't turn around, I can pretend it's not happening.

"They're just standing there," Ash says, still waving. "Shit. I think Colton took a picture."

"I'm gonna hide every single piece of his underwear in the damn milking barn," I grumble.

Ash laughs even louder. "I'll help."

Huffing a breath, I point out the obvious problem we're now facing. "You realize we only brought one towel, right?"

"What does that have to do with… Hey ."

I take off, and Ash runs after me, both of us splashing through the water as we race toward shore. I hold one hand in front of my junk, but honestly, if folks are still watching, it's their own damn fault if they get a peek. I make it to the side of the river first, snatching up the bathroom towel and holding it out wide.

Ash is puffing when he catches up to me, immediately sinking against my front. I wrap the towel around us. "Thought you were going to leave me here," he says, a little out of breath.

"Considered it," I admit.

He huffs, and we turn as one, heading for my house as someone lets out one final wolf whistle. It's a little clunky holding the towel around our midsections, but I manage, keeping our dignity somewhat intact.

"Everything ready for your mom's visit?" I ask. Ash's arm is around my waist, his body brushing against mine as we walk.

"Yep. She'll stay in my old room."

" Your old room, is it?"

He chuckles. "It was mine for a little bit. I'm excited for her to see this. To meet everyone."

I give Ash a squeeze. "You realize my mom's gonna have her mucking stalls by the end of her stay, right? It's how she shows she cares. By roping folks into manual labor."

Ash grins my way. "Remind me to take a picture."

I snort.

By the time we reach the house, we're a pair of icicles. We jump into the shower, setting it to scalding, both of us huddling under the spray to warm up. Once we get out, we dress and wander into the kitchen, Ash grabbing some leftovers to heat up while I warm some cider on the stove. He brandishes a container my way I hadn't noticed earlier.

"Rice pudding," he says happily. "Stole some earlier to keep here. I'm glad I did. I doubt those hooligans would have saved us any."

I watch Ash as he sets the rice pudding on the table, rambling all the while about how although I suppose we're the hooligans, huh? Considering we were the ones that went streaking. They just watched. But honestly, they're a bunch of troublemakers. You can't deny that.

He cuts off, looking at me with a curious tilt to his head, those stormy eyes bright. "What?"

"Nothing," I say, drawing him close and running my thumb over the dimple in his chin. I tip his face up, bringing our lips together in a short, soft press. He hums against me, arms encircling my waist.

I feel… overwhelmed , but not in a bad way. I'm swamped by my emotions. Grateful for everything that's found its way into my life.

Grateful for him .

"Would you sing me that song later?" I ask. "The one from when you arrived in town?"

His arms tighten around me, his hair brushing the side of my head as he leans his cheek against mine. I close my eyes, heart feeling so damn full I'm not sure how I can withstand it.

"Yeah, Jack," he says softly, his lips near my ear. "Don't you know? There's not a single thing I wouldn't do for you."