32. Cami
Cami
Memory Lane by Old Dominion
I wake up to the smell of coffee and the feeling of being loved. A warmth fills me that I didn't realize I needed.
There’s a soft clink on the nightstand, followed by the slow creak of the mattress. Then, warm hands slide around my waist, and Jack’s mouth brushes my shoulder. “Wake up, baby,” he murmurs, voice still thick from sleep.
I hum into the pillow, my body heavy with that delicious post-sex, post-emotional-vulnerability-last-night kind of bliss. “If this is a dream, I swear to God…”
“It’s not. But I did bring coffee and your cinnamon scones.”
My eyes snap open. “Say less.”
I roll over and sit up, hair a total disaster, wearing nothing but Jack’s worn and soft flannel. He’s beside me on the bed, shirtless, looking at me like he’s the damn patron saint of morning-after romance .
God, he’s mine. It was exhausting pretending to hate him when I love him so much it hurts.
Faint light from the lamp spills across his bare chest, his hair is still messy from sleep, and he looks at me like I personally hung the stars.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, taking the mug.
“You love me.”
I do. I really, really do.
Before I can respond, he leans in and kisses me soft and slow, like we have all the time in the world. And when I kiss him back, something in my chest breaks open. It's terrifying. And electric. And a little bit magic. It feels like...I'm home. Like, everything makes sense with him here.
“Okay,” I breathe when we finally pull apart. “You don’t have to try so hard to get me to fall in love with you, Jack. I’m already there.”
“Too late,” he says, grinning. “I watched you do it in slow motion last night. Twice.”
I grin. But he's not wrong.God, he's cocky. But he's also perfect. And mine.
"What are you thinking?" he asks as he reaches over and picks up his own mug that used to be my grandpa's.
"Just wondering how the show is going to go and what's going to happen," I admit. "You've been looking awfully cozy with Elena."
He sighs and looks at me. "Jenna had us sign NDAs. But I can tell you that if I had to give up everything for you, I would. But we just have to hold out a little longer."
"Very cryptic," I shrug and take a sip of my coffee. "Mmm, Jack. Did you put cinnamon in it?"
He smiles. "Learning from the best."
A little later, we’re saddled up and riding out past the barn, coffee thermos and treats for the horses and Love in the saddlebags like habit. The air is cool and crisp, the quiet that only belongs to early mornings on the ranch. Our favorite time of day.
Jack looks stupidly good on a horse. Relaxed, confident, like the land is part of him. And the way he glances at me every few minutes like he still can’t believe I’m here? Yeah. I’m toast.
I squint up at him as he shows off like some kind of Marlboro ad. “Flexin’ on a horse like a romance novel cover?”
He throws a smirk over his shoulder. “Jealous?”
“Of your ego? Never. Of the horse? Maybe.”
He laughs, and dammit, it’s unfair how good he looks doing it. “Don't worry, you can take me for a ride later.”
I laugh. “Deal. But don’t let it go to your already-too-big head.”
"You weren't complaining about the size of my dick earlier..."
"Jack!" I playfully laugh.
We ride for a while in comfortable silence, sipping coffee, pointing out calves and fence lines. Then we come over the ridge, and there it is.
Our tree.
The big, crooked oak in the middle of the pasture. Twisting, defiant, beautiful. Half hers. Half his. Just like always.
I slow my mare without thinking, my chest suddenly tight.
Jack pulls up beside me, watching me carefully.
“This tree,” I murmur, “has always felt like ours.”
His brows lift. “It is ours.”
My fingers tighten the reins. “When we were kids, after everything… we’d meet here. Sit up in the branches like we owned the world. Like we were safe.”
“You were always safe with me," he says softly.
I look over at him.
His voice is quiet. Sure. Full of things he doesn’t always say.“You still are,” he adds .
And just like that, I’m falling all over again.
I blink hard, staring at the tree. “I think part of me always thought that if we ever figured it out, it would be here. With this land. That tree. You.”
He reaches across and takes my hand in his, right there across our saddles.
“I think everything in my life led me back here,” he says. “To you.”
Tears sting my eyes, stupid, inconvenient feelings, and I laugh to cover it up. “God, you’re so cheesy.”
He grins. “You love it.”
“I really do.”God help me, I love everything about him. His quiet steadiness. His stupid perfect smirk. His stubborn protectiveness. His deep, fierce love.
This is what it feels like to be chosen. To be safe and to be home.
We ride a little further, then loop back to the tree.
Jack pulls a blanket from his saddlebag, because, of course, he brought one, and we sit beneath the branches like we used to, but we are older now.
Wiser. A little more broken in. Just like that tree.
It kept growing, and it was always here.
Like it was waiting for us to get it together.
He pours the rest of the coffee into the mugs, hands mine over, and says, “So… when we combine the ranches, we’re building our house here, right?”
My heart flips so hard I swear I feel it in my toes. For a moment, I just stare at him, the way the early light hits his face, soft and golden, like the universe is underlining this very second. And all I can think is, he means it. He really means it.
Not just a someday promise. Not a maybe. Not a when-it’s-convenient. He’s building me a home. Not just any home, our home. In the place where my dreams first took root. The place where his arms feel like the only shelter I’ll ever need .
My breath catches.“You’re serious?”
He nods and looks out over the field. "Where do you want your big farmhouse kitchen?"
I picture it. The kitchen. The wide porch. Bread baking while he chops wood. Holidays with friends. Mornings in bed. Dogs at our feet. A future so vivid I could almost reach out and touch it.
I look at Jack, this man who used to drive me absolutely insane, and now loves me like it's the easiest thing in the world.
And I realize, I'm not dreaming. I'm already home.
I glance up at the tree again, sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting shadows over the grass. "I don't mind where it is as long as you're in it with me."
He smiles as he stares out as if he's imagining it.
“Our house by our tree,” I whisper.
“Yup,” he says, nudging my boot with his. Casual. Like, he doesn’t just say things that wedge themselves under my ribs and stay there.
I glance down at our boots, then back up. “Is this your new thing? Emotional whiplash with a side of flirt?”
He shrugs, grinning. “Hey, if it gets you to smile…”
And damn it, I do. I bite it back, but it’s there.
“You’re such a menace,” I say, my voice a little too soft.
“Maybe,” he says. “But I’m your menace.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s useless. I’m already smiling. Already feeling that stupid burn behind my eyes I pretend isn’t there.
I shake my head, laughing just enough to keep it from turning into something else. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Yeah,” he says, quieter now. “I really, really am.”
He watches me for a beat, then leans in and kisses me slow, reverent, like I’m something holy.
And I realize something deep in my bones. I’m not just falling for Jack Jessop. I’m already his.And this? This is where I was always meant to land.
Later on that morning when I pull into the parking lot of Bridger Falls Community Bank, I almost reverse right back out. When Jack asked me to meet him in front of the bank, I wasn’t sure what he was up to. Now, I’m really wondering what he’s up to.
Because standing out front with cowboy boots planted, arms crossed, all intimidating and rugged as hell, are the three Jessop brothers.
Jack. Weston. Tucker. Just... waiting. My heart kicks into gear like a spooked colt.
I park and climb out of the truck slowly, eyes narrowing. “Okay,” I say warily as I walk toward them, “what are you guys doing here?”
Jack’s the first to move. He steps forward, that calm, steady look in his eyes that always makes me feel a little braver than I am.“We all need to handle some ranch business."
I glance between them, Jack, Weston, Tucker. All of them watching me and they're serious.
“We?” I ask slowly.
“All of us,” Jack says.
My spine straightens before I even know what I’m doing.
I glance at Weston. He gives me a single nod, eyes steady. Tucker tilts his chin like hell yeah, you too.
I swallow. “What do you need me for?” I ask, and my voice cracks just a little.
Jack’s voice is soft but certain. “You’re a part of major ranch decisions now. You’re one of us.”
It hits me like a punch to the gut. The good kind, the one that knocks the air out of your lungs and fills your chest with something bigger than fear. I look at them again. Really look. They’re not humoring me. They’re not doing this out of guilt or pity or some weird cowboy chivalry.
They mean it. Holy shit.
The girl who used to get talked down to at this very bank, the one who fought tooth and nail to hold on to her land, who everyone thought would lose it. And here I am,standing outside the same bank, shoulder to shoulder with three of the most powerful ranch owners in Bridger Falls.
And they’re waiting for me.“I—” I clear my throat. “Okay.”
Jack steps closer, taking my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You belong here. Right next to me. Always.”
And just like that, something inside me clicks into place. “I guess it’s time we show this town what Wilder and Jessop Ranch can do together.”
Weston grins. “Damn right.”
Tucker smirks. “Let’s go handle some business.”
I square my shoulders and nod, still not sure what business we're handling. “Let’s.”
And for the first time ever, I walk into that building not alone.
I walk in like I’ve got an empire at my back.