Chapter 7 #2
“Asher.” His name came out steadier than I felt, my voice firm despite the very unwelcome arousal clawing its way up my spine. I refused to let my body react to him like this. Or acknowledge it for that matter. “What’s up?”
He exhaled slowly, finally speaking again. “My brother bought me a plane ticket home.”
That’s it? I wanted to reply.
I tried not to find the insult in his hesitation to tell me this. Like I’d actually be that much of an ass to keep him away from his family during the holidays.
Sure, most of the hands at the ranch didn’t have much of a home to go back to once the holidays rolled on by. They stayed here, we celebrated together, we made do with what we had, and in a way, it had become its own kind of family tradition.
But that didn’t mean I was some heartless bastard who’d keep a guy from seeing his family just because the rest of us didn’t have the same luxury.
Did he think I would?
Was that how he saw me?
A hard-ass boss who had no care for his staff’s happiness?
The thought twisted in my chest, sitting heavy, uncomfortable.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay level. “And?”
His brows tugged together, just slightly. “And... I wanted to check with you before I made plans to leave.”
I let out a short breath, shaking my head as exasperation settled into my bones.
Goddamn it.
One of these days, Asher Torres was going to put me into an early grave.
What brand of stress would end up being the final nail in my coffin, though?
That was still up in the air.
Would it be after he pulled some reckless stunt with one of the horses?
Or would it be in how he somehow managed to find something broken out in the pasture and get himself tangled up in trying to fix it before I could get to him first?
Or in the way he worked himself to the bone, always the first one up at the crack of dawn and the last one to put his tools away at night, like he was physically incapable of sitting still for longer than five minutes.
Or maybe—just maybe—it would be something else entirely.
Something I had no business even entertaining like this.
Either way though, I was fucked.
“You don’t have to ask permission to go home for Christmas,” I replied.
His lips parted again, like he wanted to argue, but one lift of my brow had him exhaling, shoulders loosening just a fraction.
I huffed out a small laugh, shaking my head again. “I’m not that much of a tyrant, you know.”
And damn it if I didn’t wish I knew why he’d thought otherwise.
The moment the words left my mouth, his eyes went wide.
“That’s not—” He practically choked, stumbling over himself. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that you were. I— Wilder... I don’t think that.”
I let him scramble for another second before I waved a hand, cutting him off before he sent himself into a full-blown panic.
“Relax,” I said, my voice dry. “You don’t need to spare my feelings, kid. I can handle it.”
The problem was, that was a lie.
And lying through my teeth?
Not exactly a practiced skill of mine.
Because as much as I told myself I didn’t care, as much as I liked to think I had a thick skin when it came to what people thought of me, something about the idea of Asher seeing me as just another hard-ass boss didn’t sit right.
But I really didn’t have the time, or the want, to unpack why.
His face flushed. “I swear that’s not what I mean. I... okay, so my return ticket isn’t until after New Year’s. The flight out leaves a week before Christmas.”
Oh.
Realization clicked into place, blooming warm in my chest as the pieces of his hesitation finally slotted together.
“Three weeks, huh,” I drawled.
His lips pressed together, his expression twisting into something tight and guilty. “You can say no...”
The words came out quiet, almost reluctant, like he expected me to. To be fair, three weeks was a long time to be away from the ranch. Even with a full staff on deck, we needed each and every one of us to keep this place moving.
There were no weak links, no extras—just a team, all pulling in the same direction, knowing that if one person slacked off or disappeared, the weight fell harder on the rest. No one here was just a body filling space.
Every single person mattered. Everyone had a role, a place, a purpose.
And Asher?
He wasn’t just good—he was one of my best.
Hardworking. Reliable. Losing him for three whole weeks wasn’t a small ask, but it wasn’t like he was leaving for good.
And, hell—if anyone deserved a break, it was him.
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my jaw as I studied him. He stood there, eyes unwavering as he watched me carefully.
“Of course you can go,” I finally said.
The surprise on his face was instant.
It was both endearing and a little hard to reconcile with, considering the fact that I’d never once given him—or anyone else on this ranch for that matter—any reason to believe I wouldn’t let them go home for the damn holidays.
“You serious?” he asked.
I huffed out another, small laugh. “I just said yes, didn’t I?”
Relief flickered across his face. It was fleeting, just a moment. But then, just as quickly, a wide grin followed, stretching across his face with the kind of unrestrained joy that hit me square in the chest.
And before I could even brace myself, before I could fully process what was happening, Asher flung his arms around me and squeezed.
Every muscle in my body locked up.
Desire rocketed through me so suddenly, so sharply, that for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t been close to him before this. We worked side by side nearly every damn day since he arrived, moved in the same spaces, passed tools back and forth, stood shoulder to shoulder during feedings or when tending to the horses.
But this?
This was different. So, so much different.
Because we’d never been this close.
Neither of us had ever crossed that line, had never had contact outside of an accidental brushing of hands when passing things between us during a job.
And now—
Now, he was wrapped around me, chest pressed tight against mine, his arms locked around my ribs. Desire rattled inside me, wanting me to stay here feeling the solid warmth of his body pressed against mine. To memorize the way he fit like he belonged here tangled up in me.
Shit.
Before I could even process that thought—before I could figure out what the fuck to do with it—he pulled back, bouncing away with all the energy of a damn firecracker.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
A shiver rolled up my spine, unpleasant and unwelcome, at the loss of his warmth. I hated it, too sharp and too sudden.
He didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. Just had that same sunshine-y grin, his deep brown eyes sparkling as he pivoted backward, walking away with that easy, weightless energy of his, like the moment hadn’t just cracked something inside him like it had me
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir!” he called, his voice teasing, playful. “All the way from Baton Rouge!”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly tight. “Sure.”
It was pathetic, to have my entire axis thrown off by a simple hug. A brief moment of contact that was sure to haunt me long after he climbed into a cab to take him to the airport. Long after he boarded his flight back to Louisiana.
And long after he was finally gone, off spending Christmas with his family while I was stuck here, trying to pretend like none of it had absolutely shaken me to my core.
Fucking hell, I was in trouble.
I had three weeks.
Three weeks to get my bearings back. To shove these godforsaken feelings so deep into the ground that by the time Asher came back, they’d be buried for good.
Because there was absolutely no way I was going to keep dealing with this—with feelings—for a goddamn nineteen-year-old at my age.
No way in hell.