Page 11 of Boss and Brat

“I’m sorry you had to deal with Mrs. Wilcox, Ethan. She used to talk to me like that too.”

“She… uh… she really needs to mind her own business,” he said, voice quieter than he meant. He wouldn’t have said it if Carter weren’t standing right there. He knew that.

Ethan’s throat tightened again—just a flicker of that old fear—but Carter’s solid presence kept him anchored. Made it easier to breathe. Easier to speak.

“Yeah,” Andrew said. “She’s always been like that.”

Relief washed through him in a warm wave, loosening something that had been knotted up for years. It felt good, strange, but good, to hear someone who had a similar problem with Mrs. Wilcox too. For the first time in a long time, Ethan didn’t brace for impact after speaking to Mrs. Wilcox. And he knew exactly why.

“Anyway, breakfast is on us. Don’t be strangers?”

“I appreciate it,” Carter said, standing beside Ethan.

“Thanks.”

They left the diner and headed to the parking area. Ethan hopped on the back of the motorcycle, and they both put on their helmets. He tried not to think about how close he had to sit, or how good Carter smelled, or how safe he felt with his hands resting lightly on the man’s sides.

Carter started the engine, and the vibration rolled through Ethan’s chest. He swallowed hard and looked anywhere but at the back of Carter’s neck, even though that was exactly where his eyes wanted to land.

He didn’t know what he felt. Not in a way he could name without sounding stupid. Carter had stood up for him. Protected him. Shut down Mrs. Wilcox as if it were nothing. No one had ever done that for him before.

Dust kicked up under the motorcycle tires as they pulled into Dawson’s farm. Carter killed the engine—hopped off and strodetoward the feed store like a man on a mission. Ethan followed, hands shoved in his pockets, taking in the familiar smell of hay and grain.

Zane was behind the counter, leaning on it like he owned the place. His face lit up when he spotted Ethan.

“Well, look what the wind blew in,” Zane said. “You working out at the ranch now?”

Ethan shrugged, casual. “Yeah. Boss Carter hired me on.”

Carter shot him a look but didn’t comment. He was already rattling off the hay order like he’d memorized every bale in the county.

Zane nodded toward Ethan as he wrote down Carter’s order. “So what’re you doing out there? Fencing?”

“Nah,” Ethan said. “Mostly working with the horses and guiding riders on horse trails. Carter’s got me working with them every day.”

Zane grinned. “Figures. You always had a way with ’em.”

Ethan felt a small, quiet pride settle in his chest. “Guess he noticed.”

Carter finished his order and jerked his chin toward the door. “Let’s go, Ethan.”

Ethan gave Zane a quick wave. “See you around.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Zane called after him.

Ethan followed Carter back out into the sun, feeling like the job fit him a little better every day. Then they were back on the motorcycle heading back to the ranch.

The woods closed in around them, sunlight flickering through the branches. Wind whipped past Ethan’s face, cool and sharp, and he leaned in closer without meaning to. His forehead brushed Carter’s shoulder for a second. He pretended it was the wind pushing him forward, not him wanting to be closer.

Carter didn’t react. Didn’t stiffen. Didn’t pull away. He just kept riding, calm and solid, like having Ethan pressed againsthim didn’t bother him at all. That made something twist in Ethan’s chest. Made everything worse. Or better. He couldn’t tell.

The lake appeared in flashes of silver between the trees as Carter wove deeper into the woods. Ethan focused on the scenery, on the sunlight, on anything except the warm, stupid flutter in his chest every time Carter did something decent. But it kept creeping back in, no matter how hard he tried to shove it down.

He didn’t want to want anything from Carter. Didn’t want to hope. Didn’t want to feel… whatever this was. But he couldn’t stop it.

By the time Carter turned onto a narrow dirt road and pulled up beside a small cabin tucked deep in the trees, Ethan’s head was a mess—full of questions he didn’t want answers to and feelings he didn’t trust himself with.

Carter cut the engine, and the sudden quiet felt too loud. Ethan climbed off slowly, his hands lingering on Carter’s jacket a second longer than they should have. He didn’t mean to. His fingers just… stayed.