Chapter 19
Cole
“Ihear you boys have been keepin’ busy,” Mr. Whitaker said as he climbed out of his black SUV. His boots crunched in the snow as he stepped toward the house, briefcase in hand. “Evelyn seems to think you’re not gonna have any cattle left by spring at this rate.”
“Yeah, we’re doin’ alright,” I replied, beckoning him toward the house. “Been so damn busy I barely have time to do chores.”
“So, you and Jesse have been working together to pack all these orders?”
I let out a loud sigh, trying to make it convincing that I wasn’t enjoying myself. It would be suspicious if things had gotten too amicable too quickly.
“He’s a pain in my ass,” I replied. “But I’m startin’ to see he’s got a good head on his shoulders. At least where business is concerned.”
Mr. Whitaker nodded, following me into the house. “Your daddy was right. That boy has skills this ranch needed.”
“That he does,” I agreed, hanging up my hat as I led the lawyer into the kitchen. I wasn’t ready to be too effusive about Jesse’s contributions just yet. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. His ego’s already big enough.”
Mr. Whitaker chuckled, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table. “How’s the living arrangement working out? Last time I was here, you two looked like you were about to tear each other’s throats out.”
I tensed slightly, wondering if he’d picked up on anything during his previous visits. “We’ve... come to an understanding,” I said carefully. “We’re civil. Professional.”
“Civil, huh?” Mr. Whitaker raised an eyebrow as he unbuttoned his coat. “Well, that’s more than I expected, to be honest.”
I busied myself with making coffee, keeping my back to him so he couldn’t see my face.
Three weeks of sneaking around with Jesse had me on edge anytime someone asked about our relationship.
Every question felt like a trap, like they somehow knew what we were doing behind closed doors.
We did everything we could to keep it a secret.
Hell, I even fought with him at breakfast most days.
Although that part of it wasn’t exactly staged. Jesse still annoyed the piss out of me.
“You want some coffee?” I asked, changing the subject. “Evelyn made a fresh pot before she headed into town.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He settled into a chair at the table, opening his briefcase. “So where is Jesse today? I’d like to go over some paperwork with both of you.”
“Post office run,” I replied, pouring two mugs. “Should be back any minute. He’s been handling most of the customer side of things.”
Mr. Whitaker accepted the coffee with a nod of thanks. “Smart division of labor. You manage the ranch, he handles the online business. Playing to your strengths.”
I grunted in response, not wanting to admit how well we’d been working together lately. Not just in business, but in other ways too. Ways I definitely didn’t want Mr. Whitaker thinking about.
“The will’s conditions seem to be working out exactly as your father hoped,” he continued, pulling out some papers. “The ranch is turning a profit for the first time in years, and you two haven’t killed each other yet.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. If only he knew how far from killing each other we’d gone.
“Yeah, well,” I mumbled into my coffee, “we’re making it work. We have to if we want to keep the ranch.”
The sound of the front door opening saved me from further conversation. Jesse’s voice called out from the entryway, “Cole? You home?”
“In the kitchen,” I called back, my pulse quickening despite my best efforts to remain calm. “Mr. Whitaker’s here.”
Jesse appeared in the doorway, his cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes still melting in his hair. He looked good. Too good, as usual. I had to force myself to look away before my face betrayed me.
“Mr. Whitaker,” Jesse greeted, his voice warm as he extended his hand. “Good to see you again.” He shook the lawyer’s hand with an enthusiasm that made me clench my jaw. “Sorry I’m late. You know how Betty down at the post office loves to talk.”
“Not a problem at all,” Mr. Whitaker replied, gesturing for Jesse to take a seat. “I was just telling Cole how impressed I am with what you two have accomplished in such a short time.”
Jesse shot me a quick glance, one that held a hint of that secret smugness I’d come to know so well these past weeks. The look that said, ‘I know exactly what you’ve been up to.’ It made my skin flush hot.
“Yeah, well, we’ve been working our asses off,” Jesse said, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair. “That freezer was definitely worth the investment and then some.”
I noticed how he casually rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tribal tattoos that ran down his right arm. The same tattoos I’d traced with my tongue just last night while he moaned into my pillow. I cleared my throat and looked away, my jeans already too tight.
“So, what brings you by today?” Jesse asked, helping himself to coffee. “Everything okay with the will?”
“Everything’s fine,” Mr. Whitaker assured him, shuffling through his papers. “Just a monthly check-in as specified in the terms. Jack wanted me to monitor progress, make sure you two were actually working together.”
“And what’s your verdict?” Jesse asked, leaning back in his chair with that easy confidence that still drove me crazy. “Are we playing nice enough for you?”
Mr. Whitaker chuckled. “Well, neither of you has a black eye, so I’d say that’s progress from our first couple of meetings.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with how close the conversation was veering toward our relationship. “We’ve been professional,” I stated flatly. “Like I told you, we’ve come to an understanding.”
“Understanding is one word for it,” Jesse muttered into his coffee cup, his eyes meeting mine briefly over the rim.
The double meaning wasn’t lost on me, and I had to fight to keep my expression neutral.
Underneath the table, I felt Jesse’s boot nudge against mine deliberately.
The bastard was testing me, seeing how far he could push before I’d crack.
It was a game he’d been playing since that first night after the shower.
He loved to see how much he could get away with when other people were around. How much he could make me squirm.
“Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s working,” Mr. Whitaker said, oblivious to the tension crackling between us. “Jack would be pleased.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. If my father knew what was happening between his son and his stepson, I doubted he’d be pleased at all. The thought sent a familiar wave of guilt washing over me, one that I’d never quite been able to shake.
“So what do you need from us today?” I asked, eager to get back to business.
“Just some signatures,” Mr. Whitaker replied, sliding papers across the table. “And I’ll need to take a full inventory of the ranch assets for the report. Livestock, equipment, property improvements, the works.”
Jesse’s boot nudged mine again, more insistent this time. “Sounds like a lot of paperwork. Cole hates paperwork.”
“I don’t hate paperwork,” I muttered, though we both knew that was a lie. I shot him a warning look that only made the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
“Well, I can help with the inventory,” Jesse offered, leaning forward.
“I’ve been keeping pretty detailed records for the website, anyway.
Tracking inventory, sales projections, that sort of thing.
And I’ve reorganized all the tracking for the ranch since tax time isn’t far off. I can get you a copy of what I have.”
Mr. Whitaker nodded approvingly. “That’s exactly the kind of collaboration Jack was hoping for.”
I felt Jesse’s foot slide up my calf under the table, and I nearly choked on my coffee. The smug bastard kept a perfectly innocent expression on his face as his foot continued its journey up my leg.
“You alright there, Cole?” Mr. Whitaker asked, frowning.
“Fine,” I managed, shooting daggers at Jesse with my eyes. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
Jesse’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he pulled his foot away. “Maybe you should be more careful about what you’re swallowing.”
I kicked him under the table, hard enough to make him wince, but he just smiled wider.
“So,” I said, desperate to change the subject, “are you and the wife throwing your annual New Year’s Eve party again this year?”
Mr. Whitaker leaned back in his chair and grinned. “As a matter of fact, we are. Caroline’s already making her lists and driving me crazy with decorations. You two should come this year.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The thought of attending a social gathering with Jesse, surrounded by people who’d known us our whole lives, made my stomach twist into knots. What if someone noticed something? What if I looked at him the wrong way?
“I’m not much for parties,” I said quickly.
“Oh, come on,” Jesse interjected. “It could be fun. Besides, it’s good for business to socialize with the locals. Network a little, right Mr. Whitaker?”
The older man nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely right. Half the county’s biggest deals happen at our New Year’s bash. Lots of potential customers for your beef operation too.”
“See?” Jesse’s eyes met mine, that challenging glint I’d come to know so well dancing in them. “It’s practically a business obligation.”
I clenched my jaw. “We’ll think about it.”
“Caroline would be thrilled to have you both,” Mr. Whitaker said, gathering his papers. “It’s been years since either of you attended. And Jesse, she’s dying to hear all about your time in Seattle. She’s always threatening to run off and buy a summer home up there.”
“I’d be happy to tell her all about it,” Jesse replied, his tone deliberately light. “Though some stories might not be appropriate for mixed company.”
I shot him a warning glare that he completely ignored.
“Well then,” Mr. Whitaker said, oblivious to our silent exchange, “let’s get these papers signed and then you can show me around the operation. I’m particularly interested in seeing this entire direct sales setup that’s causing such a stir.”
We spent the next half hour signing documents and going through the legal requirements of the will.
Jesse kept his foot to himself for the remainder of the meeting, but I could feel his eyes on me whenever Mr. Whitaker wasn’t looking.
By the time we headed out to show the lawyer our new setup, my nerves were beyond frayed.
“This is quite impressive,” Mr. Whitaker said as we walked him through the converted barn where we’d installed the freezer and packing operation. “Your daddy would never have thought of something like this.”
“That was all Jesse,” I admitted, gesturing to the organized workstations where we packaged the meat for shipping. “I just made sure the electrical could handle it.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Cole,” Jesse said, his hand briefly touching my shoulder. “You’ve been instrumental in making this work.”
The casual touch sent electricity up my spine, and I stepped away quickly, hoping Mr. Whitaker hadn’t noticed.
“Well, whatever you two are doing, keep it up,” the lawyer said, making notes in his little book. “This is exactly the kind of innovation Jack was hoping for when he wrote that will. I know I keep saying it, but you boys are really doing him proud.”
After we finished the tour, I walked Mr. Whitaker back to his SUV, watching as he climbed in and drove away. The snow had started falling heavier now, thick flakes coating the ground. I stood there for a moment, letting the cold air clear my head after the tension of the meeting.
“That went well,” Jesse said, coming up behind me.
“You’re a goddamn menace,” I muttered, not turning to look at him. “What the hell were you thinking with that foot business?”
He chuckled, moving to stand beside me. “Just keeping things interesting. Besides, you looked so serious when I came in. All stiff and proper for the lawyer.”
“Because that’s how normal people act around their lawyer,” I hissed, glancing toward the house to make sure no ranch hands were nearby. “Not like they’re trying to play footsie under the table.”
“Normal is vastly overrated,” Jesse replied with a shrug. “And besides, it worked. You relaxed.”
“I didn’t relax. I nearly had a heart attack.”
Jesse’s laugh echoed across the yard, and I couldn’t help but notice how the snowflakes caught in his eyelashes, making them look even longer. “Come on, admit it. You liked it a little.”
I scowled, but my heart wasn’t in it. “You’re going to get us caught if you keep pulling stunts like that.”
“No one suspects a thing,” Jesse insisted, lowering his voice. “They all think we barely tolerate each other.”
“And we need to keep it that way,” I warned, finally turning to face him. “Especially at parties like the Whitakers’.”
Jesse’s expression softened. “So, we’re going then?”
I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this battle. “I guess we are. But we need ground rules.”
“Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Like no touching. No inside jokes. No... looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“How am I looking at you?” His voice dropped lower, a hint of that gravel that drove me crazy.
“Like you’re thinking about what we did last night,” I muttered, feeling heat creep up my neck despite the cold.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Ooh yeah, that was really fun, wasn’t it? I especially liked it when you flipped me over and—”
“Jesus Christ, Jesse,” I hissed, glancing around again. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t say shit like that where someone might hear.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave at the party. Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever even a scout?”
“Nope,” he admitted with a grin. “But I fucked a couple ecology majors in college. Pretty much the same thing.”
Despite myself, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “Why am I not surprised?”
“If you want,” he offered, nodding toward the house. “I could show you what I learned about knot-tying from the circus guy I dated for a couple weeks.”
“A circus guy?” I scoffed, smiling through the pang of jealousy. “Sounds like a freak to me.”
“He was,” Jesse nodded. “In several ways.”
“I… I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Just say yes. And come to my room tonight,” Jesse smiled. “I’ll show you what I mean.”
My jeans were getting very tight again. “Fine. But you leave the bozo wig and the red nose in the drawer.”
“Yes to the nose. But the wig stays on.” He lifted an eyebrow, punching me lightly in the shoulder as I searched for a response. “You take everything too seriously. Just come over tonight, okay?”
I nodded, not sure what I was getting myself into. “Alright.”