I want you to know something, even if you never hear it from me. I didn’t make your dad leave, but I might as well have. I was a stubborn fool; I should have gotten him help when he wrecked his first car, when the drinking got too much, when he took money to gamble, but I didn’t understand, and that is on me. I should have done better.
I stood my ground because I didn’t know how to bend without breaking. But the truth is, I wish I’d chased after Dennis when he left. I wish I’d gone after my son instead of letting pride keep me where I was, then maybe I could have been the grandfather who showed you all the amazing things on Snow Creek.
That’s my regret, Lucas. And I hope one day, somehow, you’ll understand that and forgive me. Maybe you’ll turn up one day, ignoring how your mom and dad have reframed the past.
You will always have a home here.
I won’t send this. I know that. My son and daughter-in-law would never let it reach you because they’re teaching me a lesson, and I won’t put you in the middle of old anger that isn’t yours to carry. One day, maybe I’ll come to you.
I’m a stubborn old man, and I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. But loving you, wherever you are, isn’t one of them.
Your loving grandfather,
Walter Barrett Esq.”
There wasa letter for every year, written long after Lucas’s mom’s updates had stopped, the most recent one dated last year. Lucas read them all out loud, his voice steady even when the words weren’t, and the cabin grew warm around us. He stayed small in my arms, curled in on himself as if he were bracing for impact, and every sentence felt as though it landed in my chest instead. I listened, helpless and furious and aching all at once, hearing the years Walter kept reaching into silence.
By the time we left the cabin, Lucas was lagging, quiet, and he’d left his mom’s demanding letters in the cabin but had pocketed every single one from Walter. I lifted him just before the bridge—he weighed nothing in my arms—and when he wrapped his legs around my waist and buried his face in my neck, I felt a hundred feet tall.
I heated soup, made him eat a few careful spoonfuls, even though he clearly wasn’t hungry, then sent a message to Gunner and Miguel to say I was in for the night—call if it was an emergency, otherwise I was off-grid. The ranch could run without me for a few hours.
I took him to his room after that, one hand steady at his back, feeling how tired he was in the way he leaned onto me. I turned away while he undressed and got into bed, giving him as much privacy as I could without leaving.
“Jesse?” His voice was small, barely there.
“Yeah?” I turned back. He was already under the covers. He shifted to one side, a faint wince crossing his face, then patted the empty space beside him. “Sleep in here tonight?”
I set my phone on the nightstand and stripped down to my T-shirt, suddenly aware of how wrung out I felt, how much the day had soaked into my bones. “I’ll be back in ten,” I said, and took the fastest shower of my life.
He was half asleep when I returned.
“You came back,” he murmured, soft and drowsy, and I slid in beside him, careful not to jar him, not sure what came next.
He leaned onto me without hesitation, fitting into the perfect Lucas-shaped space, and was asleep almost immediately.
I stayed awake long enough to feel his breathing even out, steady and warm against my chest, before sleep finally took me too.
Chapter 23
Lucas
Ilay still, half-buried under the weight of the quilt, my body warm where Jesse’s had been pressed to mine. His breathing was slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest a rhythm I’d grown used to over the past thirty minutes of watching him sleep. He’d upended my whole world, and I didn’t know how or when it had happened. I’d come here with a clear purpose—to persuade him to sell once my six months were up—but instead, he’d held me while I faced the possibility that my grandfather might have wanted me here, and somewhere in that moment, the ground had shifted under my feet.
Could I sell from under him? Was there another way? I brushed the hair from his face, careful not to wake him, my thumb tracing the warm line of his temple. He leaned into the touch even in sleep, a quiet, instinctive thing that tightened something in my chest. But then, he stirred beside me, a low murmur escaping his throat as he shifted onto his side, one arm slung over his eyes. “Morning, City. What time isit?” His voice was rough with sleep, the words barely more than a growl.
I tilted my watch, squinting at the blurry glow. “Four-thirty.”
He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face before pushing himself up onto his elbows. The sheets pooled around his waist, exposing the lean lines of his back, the way his muscles shifted under skin still flushed from sleep. “Goddamn it. Gotta be up in an hour.”
I reached out, my fingers brushing over the warm dip of his spine before sliding down to the curve of his ass. He shivered, just slightly, but didn’t pull away. “Then we’ve got time,” I murmured. “For kissing and things.”
Jesse exhaled, a sound that might’ve been a laugh if he weren’t so half-asleep. He rolled his shoulders, then swung his legs over the side of the bed, the mattress dipping as he stood. “Teeth and piss,” he announced.
I reached over to switch on the small bedside lamp and watched the play of shadow over his body—the way his boxers clung to the swell of his ass as he shuffled toward the door, his movements slow, still half-dreaming.
The floor was cold under my feet as I followed him into the hallway and into the bathroomafterI heard the toilet flush. I didn’t need to pee, but if he was doing the teeth thing and there was any chance of more kissing, then so was I. The tile bit into my soles, but the shock of it was nothing compared to how my body reacted to the sight of him bending over the sink, his back flexed, his arms tensing as he braced himself against the counter. I stepped up behind him,close enough that my chest brushed his shoulder blades, and reached for my toothbrush.
“You okay?” he asked, then hugged me after wiping his mouth. “I mean, after the video and hearing all that…”
