Page 13 of Boss and Brat

He trailed Carter through the living room, feet treading softly on the floor. The living room was the first shock. The leather couch looked practically new, the chairs angled just right, the huge TV mounted perfectly level. Nothing was crooked. Nothing was tossed aside. Nothing looked lived-in the way Ethan understood it.

Pictures of Carter in the Marines—uniform crisp, expression serious. A couple of Texas Tech degrees in Agricultural Business. Certificates arranged in perfect rows. But no people. No family photos. No friends. Nothing personal, except the proof that Carter had lived a whole life before this ranch.

They drifted down the hallway, and Carter nudged open the bathroom door. Ethan leaned in and blinked. The place smelled like cedar soap, sharp and clean. Fresh towels hung straight. The sink gleamed. No mildew. No clutter. No damp towel thrown over a chair because someone forgot about it.

Ethan said nothing, but something in his chest tightened. He wasn’t used to spaces that didn’t feel like they were one bad day away from falling apart. Next, he trudged behind Carter into the kitchen, and that’s where it hit Ethan—really hit him.

The warm brown cabinets, the mosaic tile, the spotless counters… everything looked arranged with purpose. Not obsessive, but intentional. Like someone who knew exactly where things belonged and why.

Ethan dragged his fingers along the counter, the smooth surface cool under his hand. And suddenly the comparison slammed into him without warning.

His barn.

His chaos.

His life that never had edges or structure or anything that stayed where it was supposed to.

This kitchen wasn’t just tidy.

It was a life built on discipline.

A life that made sense.

And for a moment, Ethan felt something twist low in his stomach—envy, maybe. Or grief for the version of himself who might’ve grown up in a place like this, with someone who taught him how to keep things steady.

He pulled his hand back quickly, like the counter had burned him. Carter didn’t comment. Didn’t look smug or judgmental. He just watched him, arms crossed, like he knew exactly what Ethan was feeling and would not make him say it out loud. And that made the moment land even harder.

“Let me show you the bedrooms so you know where things are.” He showed Ethan the two bedrooms.

Both simple. One clearly Carter’s bed made tight, more boots in disciplined rows, a folded blanket at the foot. The other room was empty except for a spare bed and a dresser, as if it were waiting for someone who never came. And all walls in both rooms were empty.

The realization hit Ethan harder than he had expected. It wasn’t just the empty walls—it was a quiet that didn’t belong to a man who’d lived this much life.

A small chill slid down his spine, the kind that had nothing to do with temperature. His throat tightened before he could stop it, and for a second his own mess of a barn flashed in his mind—clothes everywhere, half-finished projects, the chaos he lived in because he didn’t know how to live any other way. Carter’s cabin had none of that. No clutter. No noise. No people. Just order. Just silence.

And suddenly that silence turned heavy, like a weight pressing against Ethan’s ribs. For a man who seemed so put-together, the emptiness on those walls said something else entirely—something lonely, something private, something Ethan wasn’t sure he had any right to notice. But he noticed anyway.

“We’re going to talk in the kitchen,” Carter said.

Chapter Six

Ethan followed him down the short hallway, his feet dragging a little. He wasn’t scared—he told himself that twice—but his stomach still tightened as if he were walking into a test he hadn’t studied for. The kitchen felt even smaller with Carter standing in it, all broad shoulders and quiet authority.

“Sit.” Carter pointed to a chair and stayed standing.

Ethan dropped into the seat, shoulders tight. He was pretty sure a lecture was coming—almost definitely about the cigarette. And yeah, maybe he deserved that part. He’d pushed it, blowing smoke right in Carter’s face. He knew he had. But another part of him wasn’t convinced he’d crossed some unforgivable line; he’d just wanted to see how far he could go. Wanted to see what Carter would do. Wanted to know where the line actually was… if there even was one.

“I’m going to write out the rules and consequences after we discuss them,” Carter said.

“Rules and consequences?” Ethan asked. “You said expectations.” He sounded annoyed, but he was really feeling abit thrown off. He’d poked the bear, and now he wasn’t sure what came next.

“First,” Carter said, “your father has given me complete authority over you. Without your agreement, I won’t work with you.”

“He told me already.”

“And?”

Ethan shrugged. “I do what you tell me.”