LUCAS: I miss you too. Tell me what happens at work
DALTON: Will do
I slid the phone back into my pocket and picked up the box again. I’d always known Logan was an asshole, the kind who cut corners and smiled while doing it, and if he’d finally been caught out, then fine. Good, even. But the collateral damage mattered. Dalton mattered. The idea that Logan’s mess could cost him his job, cost people their livelihoods, sat wrong in my gut. That part was fucked-up.
And it meant I couldn’t screw this up.
This wasn’t just a project or a clean exit anymore. It wasn’t about proving I could handle Jesse or a colder-than-hell ranch. If this sale failed, the charity wouldn’t get the millions to make it bigger and better.
Six months wasn’t optional for me to then up and leave empty-handed.
Thishadto work.
I’d almost madeit out of the door without seeing Jesse, trying to put on boots so quietly no one would ever suspect I was leaving the house, particularly not the cowboys I’d decided to avoid for the next six months.
“Wait a minute, City!” Jesse called from the kitchen.
City?
“My name is Lucas,” I called back, one boot on, the other off. He didn’t reply, which made me tense, and I took off the one boot and stalked into the kitchen. “What?”
“Where are you going?” he asked, glancing at my socked feet, then back at my face.
“None of your business,” I said.
“What happens on this ranch is always my business, City.”
“Lucas.”
He shrugged. “City. Lucas. Whatever. Not like I need to know your name.”
“Are you deliberately?—”
“This radio goes wherever you go. Clip it to your belt. Or your jacket. Or put it in your coat pocket.” Jesse turned it in his hands. “This isn’t optional.”
He held the radio up between us. Close enough that I could see the scuffs on the casing, the worn lettering on the buttons.
“Watch carefully. The volume knob is here,” he said, turning it. “Channel stays on three unless I tell you otherwise. This button—” He pressed the side. “—you hold to talk and let go to listen.”
He handed it to me. Our fingers brushed. Just skin, just contact, barely there. My brain short-circuited, and the radio slipped from my grip. I was angry with him, so why in god’s name was I getting so flustered?
“Shit—” I fumbled, catching it to my chest before it could hit the floor.
Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Save me from idiots,” he muttered, stepping in. “Hold it like this.”
I bristled at being called an idiot but didn’t have time to process it when he reached around my hands, repositioning my fingers. His palm pressed briefly against mine, his thumb firm over my knuckles.
Too much touching. Way too much.
Every nerve I had lit up as if it had been waiting for this exact moment.
“There,” he said. “Don’t choke it. It’s not fragile.”
I let out a squeak and hated myself for it. “Right. Sorry.”
“Press,” he said, thumb guiding mine to the button. “Say something. Go on.”
My mouth was dry. I’d forgotten how to make words. There was nothing in my head but smelling Jesse and eyeing the stubble on his jaw.Get a grip. “Uh,” I said. Brilliant. “Lucas to…”
