25. Roman
Roman
The mountains should calm me.
They always have. There’s something about the thin, crisp air, the deep quiet, and the incredible beauty of those towering pine trees that usually settles my spirit. For most of my life, whenever the voices in my head get too loud, I come up here.
Today, however, it’s not working.
Nestling comfortably in the saddle of Ranger, my mustang, I guide the guest’s mule along the narrow trail, trying to focus on the scenery instead of the thoughts chasing each other in my mind.
It has been three days since the power outage—three days since I realized Jude and Taylor were more than friends.
Three days since I ignored the warning in my head, the one that urged me to leave the living room.
Three days since I did the one act I’d vowed never to commit.
My fingers tighten around the reins as the memory flashes across my mind. The heat from Taylor’s tight body. Those sexy moans he made. The sight of Jude’s cock thrusting in and out—
Fuck. I promised myself to forget it happened, but it would be easier for me to relinquish control of my ranch.
The sex wasn’t simply good or even pleasurable.
It was out of this entire world. Threesomes were never my thing because I didn’t like the thought of sharing, but with Jude and Taylor, it felt natural.
Natural.
Oh, fuck me.
It only worsens my guilt when I remember the promise I made to his mother. She trusted me. I can almost see her offer going up in flames if she finds out. If that happens, I can’t envision Silver Sage surviving for much longer.
There’s no need to worry about that, so I won’t. What happened in that living room will remain buried right there.
The guest—Mr. Wilson—clears his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is Taylor your son?”
I cock a puzzled eyebrow at him. “What?”
“The kid working at the front desk. Is he your son?” he replies, his smile casual.
My gaze sweeps over him. He’s around my age, maybe older. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d taken a liking to Taylor. For his fucking sake, I hope not. “No.”
“Relative?”
I hesitate for a beat. “My step-nephew.”
Wilson nods. “Interesting.”
Something about the way he says it puts me on edge, but I don’t respond. I keep guiding the animals up the trail. A few minutes pass before he speaks again. “How long has he been working here with you?”
It sounds like a casual question. My stomach still clenches. Sitting deep in the saddle, I gradually slow my horse down. “What exactly is your interest in Taylor?”
Wilson gives me what he thinks is an innocent smile. “I was thinking of writing a feature on the resort. He would make the perfect face for the article.”
“Why?”
His smile slips slightly. “Well, he is an attractive young man. Think about how many eyes would be drawn to a feature that displays his face.”
On paper, his explanation makes sense, but something does not sit well with me. “What do you do for a living?” I ask.
For the first time, he hesitates. “I’m a travel writer,” he replies, but the response comes a moment too late.
“And why would you be interested in writing a feature on Silver Sage?”
Another pause. He grimaces. “On second thought, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. I should think this through.” He turns his gaze back to the pathway. “Do you know what I love about the mountains this time of year?”
I snort, softening my hold on the reins and continuing up the trail.
Suspicion still curls tightly in my gut.
He launches into a lengthy speech about winter landscapes, untouched wilderness, and photo opportunities that sounds like a goddamn word salad.
I tune him out. My mind goes back to the ranch.
Back to Taylor, to the countdown that has been running through my head since I fucked him the other night.
It’s inevitable. He’s going to move back to San Francisco, where he belongs.
Life will return to normal, just the way I like it.
The thought should give me relief, but there’s a hollow sensation in my chest.
Wilson keeps yapping. Something about snowdrifts and dunes, and I’m almost tempted to end the tour and turn this shit around.
Soon, the trail reaches a scenic overlook where the valley stretches beneath us, a brilliant white beneath the sun that appeared a few minutes ago.
Usually, I would stop here and point out landmarks. Today, I simply stare.
Two months.
There will be more silence and fewer complications, no temptations, guilt, or risk. So, why does the thought of him leaving feel so wrong?
The answer arrives before I can stop it.
Taylor brought something with him when he arrived.
He brought energy, noise, and laughter. Life.
I think of our mornings in the kitchen, those late-night dinners.
The way Jude teases him. How he blushes in response.
The way they drag me into conversations I never meant to have.
The ranch feels fuller and warmer now that he’s here. Hell, even I feel different.
The realization lands hard enough to steal my breath. I’ve been telling myself his presence only complicates my life, but in fact, I’ve been breathing easier since he arrived.
“Beautiful,” Wilson mutters.
I stare out into the valley; the wind brushing across my face. I now understand why I’ve been struggling. It’s not because of what happened in front of the fireplace, or because I still desire him when every fiber of my being knows I shouldn’t.
It’s the thought of him leaving that bothers me.
I don’t want to lose what he has brought to this place.
To me. To Jude. Realizing that should make things clearer, but it’s worse.
Dangerous. No good will come from wanting him to stay.
The future of Silver Sage depends on his mother’s trust, and I’ve gotten away with breaking it once.
Next time, I might not be so lucky. If I let myself feel whatever I think this is, eventually, I’m going to make a crucial mistake.
The beeping from my watch confirms that it’s time to turn around. Half an hour later, I spot the ranch in the distance. I stare at it as we descend. Since Taylor arrived, I’ve been counting down to his departure like a man waiting for his sentence to end.
Now, for the first time, I wonder what happens when the countdown reaches zero.