Jesse #2
He lifted one shoulder in a small, self-conscious shrug. “We stay a working ranch as is, no one loses their livelihoods, then a portion of the cabins for those who need it most, and the other half expands, and we become a proper dude ranch like the ones in the plans you drew up for Walter.”
“You’ve seen those?”
“I did.” He gave a shy, almost hopeful smile.
“Cabins fixed, new builds, trails mapped, horses worked. A place where city people pay good money to escape for a week and remember how to breathe. We bring in a marketing guy who can fix up the website, make brochures, and get us on booking sites, maybe? Keep it low-volume, high-quality. No crowds. That side funds the refuge and keeps the ranch solvent.”
Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t empty. Lucas’s thumb brushed my arm, tentative at first, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to do it, and I unfolded my arms to hold the fabric of his shirt, choosing each other even with this sitting between us.
I swallowed; my throat hurt. “Lucas—”
“Horse therapy!” he said, words tumbling out of him now that he’d found momentum. “I mean, I read up on it, and it’s not just riding around in circles.”
I huffed out a breath despite myself. “Of course it’s not.”
“I’ve seen you with Boone,” Lucas said, the words coming faster now, less polished, more him.
“I’ve watched the way that horse settles when you’re calm, and the way he pushes back when you’re not.
You don’t talk much, but he listens anyway.
You set a boundary, he respects it. You lose focus, he lets you know. ”
“Okay.”
His hands moved as he spoke. “It works with teens and young adults who don’t trust, who flinch at questions, who shut down the second someone tries to get inside their head.”
“Come here,” I murmured, tugging him away from the table. Without meaning to, this had become how we found our way through hard things—bodies first, then trusting the words would follow. I helped him straddle my lap, which he did without argument, only one wince of pain.
“Jesse,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin as he curled into my neck, arms sliding around me as if he needed the contact to get the words out. “I love you.”
I tipped my head just enough to press my mouth to his hair. “I love you too.”
“I want to find a way through this,” he said, pulling back a fraction, his hands gripping my shoulders before loosening again. “I want—”
“What?” I asked quietly.
He swallowed, forehead dropping to mine. “I want to stay. I want you. I want us.”
My heart skipped, and something changed inside me. Love made room where there hadn’t been any before, made everything feel possible. “Where are the acres you want to sell?”
“East of the ridge, down to the road?” He phrased it as a question and half-hopeful, his gaze flicking up to mine and then away again as if he wasn’t quite ready to own the idea.
I huffed a quiet laugh, because of course that was the stretch he meant—the site of the almost-dying incident and land we couldn’t really use for much of anything practical anyway.
“And this company has people who actually want that?”
Lucas nodded. “It borders the road, so access is simple, and it sits outside the tightest easement restrictions.”
“Okay—”
“And they don’t want to build,” he went on quickly.
“They want land they can hold quietly. Fold into a conservation portfolio for their green credentials or park as a long-term asset as a tax write-off.” He shifted slightly on my lap, one hand coming up to rest on my shoulder.
“But we don’t go all na?ve. We tie it up as tightly as the law allows. ”
He glanced at me, tentative again, searching my face. “So, we don’t lose the ranch?”
“No, you don’t lose the ranch, and I sign over another twenty-five percent to you so we’re joint owners.”
“What?”
“And also, what if we offer everyone a stake? I mean, as long as me and you are equal partners, it would be so good to give everyone—”
I stopped him from talking with a kiss, but he wriggled free.
“It’s gonna hurt so bad when you leave,” I blurted, and the words were out before I could stop them.
I shook my head, already trying to pull back.
“I mean—fuck, that’s not what I meant—six months was always the deal.
You finish what you need to do here, and then you go back to Denver.
I get that, and maybe we could just do long-distance; I mean, it’s not that far, and I just—”
“No,” Lucas said, and cradled my face between his hands to make me look at him. “Jesse,” he said quietly. “I just said I wanted to do this together. Do you want me to leave?”
“No, jeez.” My chest felt too tight to breathe. “I love you,” I said. “You’re everything to me.” It felt like stepping off a cliff without knowing if the ground would be there; it meant trusting him and opening myself up to vulnerability, but I said it anyway.
He smirked then. “More than the cows?”
I sighed with relief. He was keeping it light. “Way more.”
“More than Boone?”
I smirked then. “Don’t push it, City.”
“I reckon Boone loves me just as much as he loves you,” Lucas whispered and kissed me.
“You’re probably right.” Then, I shook my head again. My throat burned. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
Lucas leaned in, forehead resting against mine. “I’m not running,” he said. “Not if you want me here.”
Well, that was an easy answer. “Yes.”
We stayed sitting that way until my legs ached, but I refused to get rid of my lap full of sexy Lucas, and he’d taken pain meds and was chatting quietly about plans for the future, and how he’d write up a job description for someone to do marketing, and how he’d get quotes for building work, and how he’d ask trades in town.
I listened to every word and kissed him in each pause.
He was staying, and never in my wildest dreams did I expect that I’d get to kiss him every single day.