31. Jack
Jack
The Good Ones by Gabby Barrett
B y the time I pull into Cami’s driveway, I’m bone tired and more than a little dazed from the chaos of the day. Love greets me at my truck and wiggles her whole body when she sees me with happiness. I love that dog.
She’s standing in the kitchen, barefoot in jeans and a soft t-shirt that’s falling off one shoulder like she has no idea how sexy she looks.
Her cheeks are pink. Her hair’s pulled up in a messy bun, little pieces curling around her ears.
She’s stirring something in a pot on the stove like it’s just a normal night.
I could come home to this every night. Every single damn night.
“Hey, baby,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
She turns and smiles. Not her usual cocky smirk. Not the I-just-mouthed-off-and-you-love-it grin.
It’s soft. A little nervous. Shy.
“Hey,” she says. “You hungry? ”
“Always,” I say slowly, stepping forward. “Is that… my favorite?”
She nods. “Biscuits. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes with the good gravy. And… peach cobbler for dessert.”
I blink. “Okay. What happened. Am I dying?”
She laughs, cheeks flushing deeper. “No.”
“You burn something down?” I tease.
“No, but thank you for thinking that’s my version of affection.”
I step a little closer, trying to make sense of her. “Did you drink Poppy’s moonshine again?”
She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she walks right up to me, looking like she has hearts in her eyes, fire in her chest, and wraps her arms around my neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And then she kisses me.
Her hands tangle in my hair, her body pressed against mine, and I kiss her back because I’ve been dying to for months. Years. Always. I grip her waist and pull her closer, her mouth sweet and warm and finally mine.
When we break apart, she’s breathless. I’m stunned. And in love with her in a way that feels so right , it almost hurts.
I kiss her again. Harder this time. My hands sliding into her hair, her body melting into mine. Everything I’ve held back pours out of me all at once, months of pining, years of wanting. She’s all heat and softness and impossible magic.
She reaches over and turns off the stove, dropping a lid on top of a pan. Dinner forgotten, we stumble toward the couch. She tugs my shirt up over my head like she’s wanted to for years and never let herself. I trail kisses down her neck, her shoulder, whispering her name like a prayer.
Because this moment is what I've fought for. Even when I felt like I was fighting for this on my own, I've been fighting.
She whispers mine right back. And I love hearing her say it.
There’s nothing rushed about this. Nothing frantic. Just hands and mouths and hearts colliding like they’ve been waiting for this moment forever. I take my time with her, worshipping her like she deserves. She pulls me close like she’s never letting go.
This time, it’s slow. Unhurried. Almost like all the promises we made materialize in this moment.
Even feeling like we have all the time in the world, the bedroom still feels so damn far away, so I walk backwards to the living room.
With one hand on her throat, gentle pressure on each side to keep her exactly where I want her, and the other pulling her with me by the belt loops of her jeans, I sink down on the couch, and she follows, straddling me, giving me all her weight.
When her core presses against my cock, I hiss as my hips lift from the couch without my permission, grinding into her. The contact draws a long, low moan from her as she lowers her head and sucks my bottom lip between hers, nipping with her teeth.
“Cami,” I moan, squeezing her ass and dragging her core down my hard ridge.
Seconds meld into minutes, and I could stay wrapped up in this woman forever.
Later, tangled together beneath a throw blanket on the couch, her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my ribs, I feel it settle in my bones.
This is it.
This is home.
“You know,” she murmurs, “I still think your gates are obnoxious. ”
I grin, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re going to marry me one day, and those gates are going to be our obnoxious gates.”
She chuckles. “You proposing already, Jessop?”
“Not yet,” I say, pulling her tighter. “But I’m gonna.”
And from how she tucks herself against me and sighs like I’m everything she’s ever wanted, I know she believes me.And that’s all I’ll ever need.
The world outside is dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that only happens late at night in Bridger Falls, when the wind settles and the stars take their watch. But inside Cami’s bedroom, it’s warm. Peaceful.
She’s curled into my chest beneath a pile of blankets, one bare leg hooked over mine, her hand resting just above my heart like she knows exactly how fast it beats for her. Her hair smells like vanilla and honey. Her breath is slow. Steady.
We haven’t moved much since we came up here after we made love and finally made it through dinner, just shifted enough to tangle together, limbs and hearts knotted so tightly I’m not sure where I end and she begins.
I think she’s drifting off when her voice breaks the quiet.
“The bank was rude to me. I think I want to find a new one.”
I glance down, brushing a hand slowly up her back. Her voice is soft, but there’s something sharp beneath it. Hurt. Shame.
She continues. “They’ve always been rude. I used to tell myself I was imagining it. But I wasn’t. I think I want to find a new bank.”
My stomach tightens. I shift just enough to see her face. She’s staring at the ceiling now, her brow furrowed, eyes distant.
“What do you mean?” I ask gently. “What happened?”
She swallows. “It’s not what they said. Not exactly.
It’s the way they talked to me. Like I wasn't worth their time. Like I was some clueless girl with no idea what she was doing. Like… like Wilder Ranch didn’t mean anything.
Just a number. A dying piece of land with a dumb little girl clinging to it. ”
I feel the anger rising, steady and hot. I know what that feels like. I’ve felt it before. It’s the way people look at someone they’ve already decided isn’t worth listening to. How our family has felt and how we've been working so hard to rebuild our name with the community.
“They acted like I was ridiculous for trying to save it,” she says quietly.
“Gave me deadlines they kept changing. Bullied me into signing paperwork. They kept telling me I’d need a miracle if I wanted to keep it.
Talked me in circles. Sometimes I think that if I were a man, they never would have done that to me or treated me that way. ”
My jaw clenches. “Why didn't you tell me before now?”
She nods once. Doesn’t look at me. “I was just embarrassed. I wanted to save the ranch. I didn't want to lose it.”
"You did save your ranch.” I brush my knuckles down her cheek. “That's why I wanted to fight with you. I saw how hard you were fighting.”
Her eyes finally meet mine. “Thank you, Jack. You didn't have to do that.”
The vulnerability in her voice guts me, and I whisper, "Of course, baby. I'd do anything for you."
“I always pretended like I could handle things. Like I was strong and capable and didn’t need anyone. But I did. I needed you. ”
I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. “You are strong. And capable. And so damn smart. And you're not alone.”
She sniffs, blinking fast. “It felt like the town saw it too. Like people knew I was barely holding on. They were polite but... distant. Like they were waiting for me to fail.”
I exhale slowly, keeping my voice low and steady. “People in this town don’t always know what to do with someone who fights for what they love. But that doesn’t mean they look down on you. That means they don’t know how to measure your kind of strength.”
She closes her eyes for a second, her forehead pressing to my chest.
“I didn’t want you to save me at first,” she whispers. “Because I didn’t want you to see me as some damsel in distress.”
I tilt her chin up gently. “I’ve seen you shovel horse crap in a blizzard while screaming at a raccoon to get out of your hay barn. You’re the least damsel-y woman I know.”
She laughs through her tears, and I smile, brushing them away with my thumb. "I'd forgotten about that," she says softly.
“I think that was the night I fell in love with you,” I add, my voice quieter now. “We were just kids, but even then I knew."
She nods, her fingers curling tighter against my chest.
“I just want us to work,” she murmurs.
“We will work. Every single day,” I say, and I mean it with every part of me. “You’re everything to me.”
She exhales shakily and shifts closer, tucking herself tighter under my arm like she’s finally letting herself rest.
“I wish I’d told you sooner,” she says softly.
I kiss the top of her head. “You told me now. That’s enough.”
We lie there in the quiet, hearts beating in rhythm, wrapped up in warmth and truth and everything that’s been waiting between us for years.
She’s not hiding anymore.
And I swear, I’ll never let anyone, especially not a damn bank make her feel small again.
That night when she's sleeping, I fire off a text to Weston and Tucker and tell them to meet me at the bank in the morning.
It's time we handle business around town and let people know that neither Wilder or Jessop Ranch is going anywhere. And we won't be putting up with anymore bullshit.