Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Jack
Ican’t believe I kissed her. What in the Hell was I thinking?
The truck rattles over the uneven dirt road, the low rumble of the tires filling the silence between us.
I grip the edge of the seat with one hand, the other resting on the doorframe, my knuckles tight and pale.
My jaw is clenched so hard it feels like it might crack.
I tell myself it’s because of the damn fence, because of the mess I just saw and the irresponsibility it screams. But that’s not the whole truth.
It’s because I can’t get her out of my damn head. Why in the hell was I so quick to kiss her?
I can still feel the warmth of her body against mine, the way she fell into me like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way her lips tasted—sweet, soft, and maddeningly addictive. The kiss wasn’t supposed to happen. Hell, none of this was supposed to happen.
I’ve spent years building walls around myself, brick by bitter brick. My marriage to Savannah started out great, but after many failed attempts at getting pregnant, we just kept drifting further and further apart.
I think I knew for at least a year that she was sleeping with my best friend, Dave, but I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to believe that either of them was capable of such betrayal, but I was wrong.
Savannah and I have been divorced for a year, and I swore off women altogether.
Love, commitment, trust—they’re all just fairy tales people tell themselves until reality slaps them in the face.
Savannah slapped me hard enough to knock me flat, cheating on me and taking damn near everything I had in the divorce.
Since then, I’ve focused on what I can control: making money and staying the hell away from anything that even remotely smells like vulnerability.
But Brynn… she’s like a crack in my foundation, a fissure I can’t patch up no matter how hard I try.
She’s stubborn and reckless, always biting off more than she can chew.
And yet, when she was in my arms, all that fire melted away, leaving something soft and raw in its place. It scared the hell out of me.
I’m not going to allow another woman to wreck me. She got in this once, but she’ll never get through my defenses again.
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye.
She’s staring straight ahead, her hands tight on the wheel, her profile illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun.
She looks as wound up as I feel, her lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders tense.
I wonder if she’s thinking about the kiss, too. If it shook her as much as it did me.
I shake my head, forcing my gaze back to the road. I can’t let myself go there. Not again. I’ve already learned the hard way what happens when you let someone in, when you let yourself believe in something that’s destined to fall apart. I’m not going to make that mistake twice.
When we pull up to the main house, Brynn kills the engine and sits there for a moment, her fingers still gripping the wheel. The silence between us is heavy, charged with everything we’re not saying. Finally, she exhales and moves to get out.
“I’ll take care of unloading everything,” I say, my voice gruffer than I intend.
She pauses, her hand on the door handle. For a second, her eyes meet mine, and she nods quickly, her cheeks flushing, and then she’s out of the truck, hurrying toward the house without another word.
I watch her go, my chest tight, my head spinning.
Damn it, Jack. Get a grip.
Shaking off the lingering haze of that moment, I climb out of the truck and start unloading the boards that we didn’t use. I head to the barn with them. Laughter is coming from the barn, and the sound grates on my nerves.
Inside, the ranch hands are gathered near the tack room, laughing and joking like they don’t have a care in the world. Lane’s smirking and leaning against a post, while the others chuckle at something he’s said. The sight makes my blood boil.
I drop the boards on the ground with a loud thud, and the laughter stops instantly. All eyes turn to me, their expressions shifting from amusement to unease.
“What the hell are you all doing in here?” I demand, my voice is cold and sharp.
“We’re just taking a break, boss,” says Harvey, a dark-haired ranch hand. He’s an older man, starting to go gray at the temples, but his sun-worn face says that he’s been doing this for a while.
“Have the horses been fed? Have the cattle been fed or moved? Have the horse stalls been mucked?”
“We’re getting around to that,” Lane chuckles.
I pull in a very slow breath, my fists clenching at my sides. I have a feeling these men have gotten away with slacking off and being little assholes for a while now, and it stops right this second.
“It’s ten in the morning; it all should have been done by now.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“And your point is? I don’t see any of you in church clothes, so if you’re not going to pay your respects, don’t be using the excuse that it’s the Lord’s day,” I hiss.
Paulo, a younger ranch hand, nods as he pushes himself off the wall. “Chaz and I will get the horses, sir.”
“Calm down, Paulo,” Lane says with a dry chuckle as he holds his hand out to start. “You’re not going to make the rest of us look bad while we’re on a break.”
“Sitting around, goofing off, while the fence out there looks like it’s been through a damn war? Is that more important than ensuring that the cattle stay on the property?”
The men exchange uneasy glances, but no one speaks. Finally, Lane steps forward, his arms crossed over his chest. “Brynn said she’d take care of it,” he says, his tone casual, almost dismissive.
Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us in two strides, getting right up in his face.
“What kind of man lets a woman take care of it?” I growl dangerously.
“You’re paid to make sure this ranch is operational.
You’re paid to handle problems like that fence before they turn into disasters.
And instead, you’re letting the boss’s daughter do your damn job for you? You’re pathetic.”
His jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t say anything. The other ranch hands shift uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze.
“She doesn’t like the way we do things,” Lane says. “She always does it before we get around to it.”
“Before you get around to it?” I ask with a low chuckle. “Maybe she’s tired of asking and things not getting handled. Do I need to schedule and monitor your breaks?”
“We’re not children,” Lane snaps.
He walks over to one of the stalls where a horse is, opens it, and grabs a pitchfork. He makes a gesture to me as if to say, You happy?
“You could have fooled me.”
I put my arms across my chest, eyeing all of them. “If those horses get sick because they’re standing around in their own filth, well, the vet bill will be coming out of your paycheck.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You get fed, you have a roof over your head, you have internet, and you get more than a fair day’s wage to work on this ranch. And instead of doing the labor that you’re so graciously paid to do, you’re in here playing grab ass while your boss is losing money.”
“We took a break for five minutes.”
“While your boss’s daughter was up with the sun to go out to the north pasture by herself to repair the fence. By herself. Not one of you was awake at that time to help if she’d gotten into trouble.”
The horse starts sniffing Lane. He keeps batting it away before he turns and swings his fist toward her head. I instantly react as I lunge for him, grabbing his arm just as it glances off the horse’s head.
“That’s on her,” Lane says as he rolls his eyes. He looks around at the other ranch hands. “My brother always said she wasn’t too bright, but she could suck—”
“Lane, you’re fired,” I hiss as I grab him by the back of the shirt and throw him out of the stall and onto the ground. He scurries up quickly, and I get up on his face. Paulo immediately goes into the stall with the horse.
“You can’t fire me.”
“I just did. You’re not going to abuse a horse. I can call the sheriff and have you arrested. You’re also not going to disrespect Brynn or anyone else on this ranch.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, a smirk. “This won’t last. Sheriff won’t do shit. Brynn and the old man won’t let me be fired. I’m family.”
“Get your things and go,” I growl.
He rolls his eyes and surprisingly walks out of the barn.
That went better than I thought it would.
“This stops now,” I say, stepping back and addressing the group as a whole. “Things are about to change around here. If you can’t do your jobs—if you can’t take pride in your work and take responsibility for this ranch—I have no problem firing every single one of you. Do I make myself clear?”
There’s a murmur of agreement, but it’s not enough. “I said, do I make myself clear?” I bark.
“Yes, sir,” they answer in unison, their voices subdued.
“Good.” I point to the boards on the ground.
“Get those loaded up and out of the way. Get your normal work done, but that fence needs to be checked and reinforced along the entire line. That takes priority. And if I see one more thing out of place—one more sign that you’re slacking off—you’re done. All of you.”
With that, I turn on my heel and walk out of the barn, my fists clenched at my sides. My heart is pounding, and my head is a mess of anger, frustration, and something else I don’t want to name.
As I head back toward the house to talk to John, the image of Brynn flashes in my mind again—her wide eyes, her flushed cheeks, the way her lips felt against mine. I curse under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
I can’t afford to let her get under my skin. Not now. Not ever.