EIGHTEEN. #2
Ever clears her throat, straightens a little, and the passion slips into her voice as she explains.
She tells me there’s no grand strategy yet, but she wants a steady stream of photos and updates—shots of the animals, glimpses of daily life on the ranch, the small things we do here and what the place has come to mean to her.
Her words rise and fall with real feeling.
Her eyes brighten as she clicks through a few pictures she already has queued up.
I watch her more than the screen, caught by how much this matters to her—how she lights up talking about something that’s entirely her own.
Marissa chimes in every few sentences, hyping her up, bolstering her when she hesitates or sounds discouraged.
It surprises me, honestly. I half-expected her to use this time to nudge Ever back toward Chicago, toward family and the life she left behind.
Instead she’s been sitting here for hours, helping build something that belongs to Ever alone—not a financial obligation, not an inheritance from Linda, just hers.
And I can see how much that means to her.
“So I guess we probably should do a photoshoot at some point,” I mutter under my breath, letting out a deep sigh of surrender.
“There’s three very handsome men working on this ranch,” Marissa says with a humorous lilt. “Posting a photo of you guys in cowboy hats would make women implode.”
Ever laughs beside me, but she doesn’t bother denying it.
“Well, good thing we all know who’s the most handsome,” Jesse tests, his tone light but obviously fishing for Marissa’s verdict.
Ever and Marissa exchange a quick glance, eyes darting back and forth like they’re holding an entire silent conversation. Then they dissolve into giggles, the kind that hint at shared secrets and maybe a few dirty thoughts.
“Really? You think he’s better looking than me?” Jesse says, mock-defensive but clearly enjoying the game.
“Look, it’s nothing personal,” Marissa reassures him, letting her hand rest on his forearm. “I said there’s three very handsome men.”
“Okay. So between Caden and I.”
“You. Obviously,” she answers, like it truly is the most obvious thing in the world.
Jesse narrows his eyes at her playfully, satisfied despite himself, then turns the look on me. “Why are you so goddamn good-looking?”
“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” I shoot back.
Both girls laugh under their breath. Ever shifts her legs beneath the table making my hand slide lower along her thigh. This time, my breath catches.
“You should see the way girls hang on his arm,” Jesse goes on. “It’s not even funny.”
I glare at him, hating that he’s painting me like some playboy right in front of Ever, as if I ever indulge in that kind of attention.
“Don’t give me that look,” he says. “You know it’s true. And it’s wasted on you because you don’t give a shit about any of it.”
“Why would I?”
“Because the women that go after you are drop-dead gorgeous,” he says without missing a beat.
This time Marissa turns on him and smacks his arm. Ever and I laugh at the same moment, already seeing the hole he’s dug himself into.
“And you’re drop-dead gorgeous,” he adds quickly, trying to backpedal. “I wasn’t saying you’re not.”
“Uh-huh,” she mutters, glaring daggers at him.
“See,” I tell him easily. “Maybe you should try the whole flirting-without-words thing. Might help you out.”
Ever laughs harder, and even Marissa cracks a wide grin.
“Stay outta this,” Jesse says, wrapping his arm around Marissa’s waist. She doesn’t pull away—she leans into him instead, comfortable and easy, like she’s already decided he’s exactly where she wants him.
I slide my hand further down Ever’s leg, tracing the line of her thigh before curving around her hip to settle at the small of her back. I lean in until my mouth hovers near her ear, close enough that my breath brushes her skin.
“You wanna get out of here with me?” I murmur, the words meant only for her.
She turns her head just enough that her jaw is at my lips—so close I could close the last inch and taste her, sink my teeth in the way I’ve imagined a hundred.
“Uh-uh,” Marissa cuts in sharply, catching me off guard. “She’s not going anywhere with you, Mister.”
I shift my gaze to her, but my hand doesn’t leave Ever’s back. My fingers spread wider instead, splaying across the smooth expanse of skin exposed by her shirt, feeling the taut muscles shift beneath my palm. The contact is electric, feeding every fantasy that’s been running through my head.
“We still have work to do,” Marissa adds, leaning away from Jesse now too, like she’s decided her new mission is to tease us both until we’re half-mad with want and then yank it all away just to watch us squirm.
Ever clears her throat, her voice coming out rougher than usual, like she’s fighting to find steady ground again. “We actually do have a lot more to get done,” she says. “Maybe we’ll catch you guys around later.”
“Yeah, if you manage to keep your eyes off us long enough to get any work done,” Marissa says with a knowing smirk, laying bare what we already suspected—they’ve noticed every time Jesse and I slowed our steps crossing the field just to watch them longer.
I should feel embarrassed, maybe scramble for some half-assed defense, but I don’t. Neither does Jesse. There’s no point pretending we haven’t been distracted all day.
“Well, you girls are the ones taunting us,” Jesse replies smoothly, “sitting out here for hours looking the way you do.”
He leans back and slides out from under the bench.
I know I should follow—should stand up, walk away, get back to the barn before I do something stupid—but leaving Ever’s side feels harder every time.
My hand drifts to her hip, fingers curling in with a firm squeeze.
Hard enough to pull her attention, to say without words that I don’t want to go anywhere.
She turns her eyes to mine, studying me with that quiet intensity that always unravels me a little more. “If it makes you guys feel better, we’ve been sitting out here distracted by the two of you, also.”
“You’re not supposed to tell them that!” Marissa rushes out, laughing beside herself.
“Well, well,” Jesse drawls, grin widening. “How the tables have turned.”
Ever only shrugs, casual and unapologetic. My heart stutters at the admission—that they’ve been just as caught up, maybe even waiting for us to find the nerve to cross the distance.
I bite down on my lip when Ever’s gaze drops to my mouth and lingers there. She knows exactly what she’s doing—how that look makes my blood run hot and my restraint fray. I want to stay, want to keep my hand on her, but if I do, my control will snap completely.
I lean to the side, swing my legs over the bench, and stand. My hand stays on her back as long as it can, trailing up her spine one last time before I force myself to step away.
“I guess none of us are gonna get much work done today,” I tell them, making my feet take a few reluctant steps backward.
“Definitely not good for business,” Ever says quietly, the words pitched low so they feel like they’re meant just for me—our little inside joke, something neither of them would understand the full wight of.
“Definitely not,” I agree.
She grins wide before looking away, biting her lip and shaking her head like she’s trying to rein herself in. Heat floods through me in an instant. The insinuation hangs there between us, unspoken but clear, and I love that it’s ours—something small that belongs to no one but us.