EIGHTEEN.
Tobias
——————————
Freedom.
It’s been hours now, and I’ve lost count of how many times my gaze has drifted to the small table under the big oak tree outside Ever’s house.
Ever and Marissa haven’t moved from their spots all day, heads bent over phones and laptops.
Jesse noticed almost as fast as I did. Every time we cross the open field between the barn and the house our eyes lock onto the two of them.
Neither of us says a word about it. Like speaking the attraction out loud might shatter whatever possibility hangs in the air, like naming it could jinx the whole thing.
This time when we reach the barn, Jesse stops dead in the doorway, hands planted on his hips, shoulders squared as he stares straight down the hill at them.
I shake my head and keep moving inside to sort my gear.
Fixing the entire training ring wasn’t on today’s list—hell, it wasn’t even on the week’s list—but waiting any longer would’ve meant someone getting hurt.
When I step back outside Jesse is still standing in the same spot. He throws his hand out toward the girls in a sharp gesture. “What the hell are they doing?”
I scoff under my breath and move to stand beside him, squaring my own shoulders to them. “Why don’t you go ask ’em?”
“They’ve been staring at those screens for hours,” he says, exasperation thickening his voice.
My eyes settle on Ever—she’s sitting with her legs tucked under her, back straight as she leans forward on her elbows. I can’t stop the thought that slips through: how it would feel to slide my hand along the line of her spine, up to her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin through her shirt.
“Maybe Marissa’s got work to catch up on,” I offer.
“She works at a bookshop,” Jesse counters. “She doesn’t have work.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, defending her even though I don’t have a clue what they’re actually doing. I’ve never been able to sit still that long in my life.
“I can’t keep my damn mind together knowing they’re just sitting there,” he mutters.
“If you’re aiming at Ever—”
“Please,” he cuts me off with a lazy wave of his hand. “I knew you were gunning for her the moment I saw you staring at her at the funeral. I’m not that dumb.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. I haven’t exactly been hiding it from him, but we’ve never come right out and talked about it either. “Then why don’t you go talk to her? If they’re not doing anything important, I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“Alright, then come on,” he says, nudging my shoulder before starting down the hill.
I stare after him, wide-eyed, my heart suddenly thudding too hard. He turns and walks backward a few steps, a wide, lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Come on, Mr. Macho Man.”
He laughs—bright, loud, carrying clear across the field—and both girls look up at the sound.
They lean toward each other, heads close, whispering and giggling.
The next time Ever glances up our eyes catch.
My feet start moving before my brain catches up, boots eating up the distance while the half-finished work in the barn suddenly feels pointless.
“Don’t make me look like an idiot,” Jesse whispers as we get closer, his tone playful but edged with nerves.
I roll my eyes but bite down on my lip, trying to wrestle my own pulse back under control.
Marissa looks at me first, then at Jesse, and her eyes go soft and fluttery in that unmistakable way I’ve seen before. She’s into him, and a small, selfish part of me is glad for it. Maybe it’ll give her a reason to keep coming back here instead of trying to drag Ever back to Chicago.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Jesse drawls, his voice laced with easy humor.
Marissa sits up straighter, leaning forward just enough to draw attention to the low cut of her shirt, while Ever unfolds her legs and turns in her seat to face us.
“What can we do for you boys?” Marissa asks, confident, her gaze never leaving Jesse’s.
“We couldn’t help but notice the two of you glued to your screens,” he says. He props one boot on the edge of the bench Ever’s sitting on and leans his weight forward. “We wanna know what you’re plotting over here.”
They both chuckle under their breath. Marissa is the first to move, turning her laptop screen toward him in an obvious invitation for him to get closer. “We’re setting up social media accounts for the ranch.”
Jesse drops his foot from the bench and circles around to stand behind Marissa.
He leans over her shoulder, close enough that his chest presses lightly against her back, and turns her laptop screen toward himself with an easy confidence I didn’t know he had in him.
The effect is immediate—Marissa’s breath catches, audible in the quiet afternoon air.
He’s smooth, damn smooth, and I have to give him credit.
I honestly didn’t think he had this kind of game.
“Where are all the pictures of me?” he asks, scrolling through the draft posts with his fingers gliding over the trackpad.
I slide my hands into my pockets, feeling suddenly awkward. Ever sits right in front of me, watching the whole exchange unfold, and I can’t help wondering what she sees when she looks at me compared to Jesse’s effortless charm.
“Maybe we can do a photo shoot of you guys sometime,” Marissa offers, leaning back into him and tilting her head so she can look up at him through her lashes. “For content, of course.”
“Of course,” Jesse replies, his voice playful and low.
Ever and I both drop our gazes to the table in front of us at the same moment, avoiding the obvious chemistry sparking between the other two.
I steal a quick glance at her. Her hands are clasped tight in her lap, fingers twisting together in that small, nervous way she has when she’s trying to keep herself steady.
“I think I’ll pass on that,” I mutter, finding the confidence to speak up. I lift my eyes to Marissa as she lowers her gaze. “I’d rather not be around the two of you with all this going on.”
Ever lets out a soft chuckle under her breath, her shoulders shaking just enough to make me want to keep saying things that earn that sound from her. Marissa doesn’t look offended in the slightest—she truly has zero shame.
“I am curious what you’re doing, though,” I say, finding a thread of courage to keep going.
I step forward and slide onto the bench beside Ever, close enough that the heat of her shoulder and thigh presses against mine the second I settle in.
The contact sends sparks racing through me, short-circuiting every coherent thought I had left.
She turns her laptop slightly so I can see the screen better, and I lean in, letting more of my weight rest against her.
“Rose and Thorn Ranch, Strawberry Plains, Tennessee,” I read quietly, almost to myself, taking in the simple bio—who we are, what we do here, what this place means to Ever. It’s wholesome in a way nothing on social media usually is.
She clicks to the Instagram tab and scrolls through a handful of photos already posted. I point to one that catches my eye, and she opens it without hesitation. It’s a shot of June galloping across the open field, far ahead of the rest of the herd. The caption is just one word: freedom.
I lift my eyes to Ever’s, and hers meet mine steadily, unflinching. Freedom. The word echoes in my head. It gives me hope that she might actually choose to stay, that this place could become home for her the way it’s become something more than just land and work for me.
Jesse slides onto the bench next to Marissa, and the two of them immediately fall into their own rhythm—more banter and teasing than anything to do with social media or ranch accounts.
But my focus narrows to Ever, to the way her warmth seeps into me where we touch, to the quiet way she breathes beside me.
Being this close to her does something to my entire world.
It shrinks down until there’s nothing else.
“You know,” Jesse says suddenly, loud enough that I know it’s aimed at me. I turn my head to look at him. “Flirting requires actual words.”
“No it doesn’t,” I tell him, and as the words leave my mouth my hand finds her knee under the table. When I glance sideways her lips are parted just slightly, and her eyes flick over to mine, burning with something that makes my pulse kick hard.
“Oh, that’s right,” Jesse continues, grinning. “The quiet brooding aura. Like all those fantasy romance books the girls are reading these days.”
Marissa laughs under her breath. I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I don’t care.
“Well, don’t get any ideas about that,” Marissa tells him, leaning in closer. “I fully enjoy the way you talk to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jesse glances down at her mouth. “I bet I can talk you into other things too.”
“My goodness, Jesse,” Ever says with a short, exasperated chuckle.
I squeeze her knee again and let my hand slide just a fraction lower—not far enough to cross any real line, but enough to make her breath come a little harder, a little faster.
“I don’t want his name on your lips,” I tell her, voice low and rough. The tension between us crackles.
“Then what name should I say?” she whispers harshly, her voice catching like the heat between us has stolen the rest of it.
A slow curl tugs at the corner of my mouth. I grind my jaw, eyes dropping to her lips as the memory of the dream surges back. The image is so vivid I can almost taste her. It takes everything not to close the distance right here at the table.
“Damn,” Jesse breaks in, shattering the moment with a low whistle. “I’m gonna have to steal that line. What the fuck.”
Ever laughs shyly and ducks her head toward her computer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. When she does, I catch the flush creeping across her cheeks. I slide my hand back to her knee, settling it there without pushing further—just enough to remind her I’m still close.
“So, social media,” I say, steering us back to safer ground before the tension swallows us. “What’s the plan there?”