10. Ethan
Ethan
Colt is kissing me.
Holy shit.
His lips are soft and gentle as he tentatively keeps his lips against mine, asking if more is okay.
I return the kiss, and then Colt’s hand is against my cheek, roughened with calluses.
His thumb brushes across my skin, sending more shivers through me.
I’m…god, I feel like I might have found heaven.
When he pulls back, his gaze on me is a mixture of excitement and fear. A mirror of my emotions.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be such a good kisser,” I say, and Colt drops his head, resting it briefly on my shoulder.
“I wasn’t expecting to kiss you today, but I’m not complaining.” He repositions himself and sits next to me. Our shoulders press together, and I turn my head toward him. Colt assesses me in the quiet way he does so well.
“What?”
“I don’t kiss a lot of people, Ethan.”
“I figured. Are you okay with this?” I don’t really know if I’m asking him if he’s okay with kissing me or okay with kissing me while we’re technically working, or even if it’s something else.
He takes a few beats before he replies. “In this moment, yes, I’m okay. When we get back to the ranch, and I go home…I don’t know.”
Colt closes the small space between us and kisses me again, the tentativeness from the first time gone. I smile against his lips. “I could kiss you here all day. Nobody has ever kissed me like this.”
“Like what?” he asks before sitting back against the tree.
“I don’t know. It’s just…different; like it’s the only thing you have to do today. I like it, though.”
“Me too.” He smiles, and he’s back to the shy cowboy. “Do you want to fish more?”
“You know, I think I’ll pass. But I’d love to watch you fish, and I’ll just take photos if that’s okay?”
“That’s okay. But if you change your mind, let me know.”
Colt kisses me again quickly before walking back to the river’s edge. After setting my rod aside, he pulls a cigar from his fishing vest, and my eyes widen as he lights it. He stows the lighter and draws on the cigar before leaning his head back and blowing the smoke up into the sky.
I don’t care for smoking, but watching Colt enjoy a cigar is a turn-on for reasons I can’t explain.
Maybe it’s because I thought he was too innocent for something as badass as puffing on a cigar.
It’s not a thick cigar, but it’s small enough that he holds it in his mouth while he casts and draws the line back, puffing on it here and there.
He’s effortlessly cool and completely in his element.
Pushing off the tree, I walk over to the horses where I stowed my camera bag. Yes, I brought a spare battery pack, but I also brought the camera so I could take some shots with a better zoom. Colt catches my movement, and I give him a thumbs up that all is well with my good thumb.
Why is that cigar so sexy? I can’t stop watching.
He hooks a fish and clamps the cigar between his teeth as he pulls the fish in.
He doesn’t use his net this time. Standing in deeper water that threatens to spill into his boots, he holds the fish with one hand and removes the hook with the other.
It’s efficient and effective, and my dick definitely likes it.
Before releasing the fish, he turns my way with it, cigar at the corner of his lips and the fish glinting in the sun.
I snap photos like my life depends on it, while my knees quake. Colt releases the fish and returns to fishing. I need to return to work mode, and quickly. The ranch gifted us this single day, but we both still have work to do.
After strolling along the river and taking more photos, I return to our spot and find Colt removing his rubber boots.
“Did you find anything on your walk?” he asks when he notices me.
“Some cool-looking rocks; saw some fish in shallow water. That was neat.” When his gaze meets mine, I just go for it. “A super-hot man smoking a cigar and fishing. I liked that a lot.”
Colt looks away and fights a smile. “Thanks. Um, we should probably eat and start back soon.”
“Sure.”
He hands me a paper bag from one of the saddlebags. Inside is a simple ham sandwich on white bread, a cookie wrapped in cling wrap, and an apple.
“I used to get a lunch like this at a summer camp I went to.”
“Oh?” Colt chews and swallows. “What kind of camp?”
“Maybe camp isn’t the right word.” I laugh because it’s likely not. “It was a program to teach kids about photography. The only outdoor part of it was wandering city streets and parks to take photos.”
“Is that what got you into this…influencer stuff?”
Colt’s brows scrunch together, and I’m internally sighing at how adorable it is.
“Sort of. You really want to know how this kind of thing became my job?”
“Of course. Your career means something to you, and it’s part of you. I want to know what you love about it.”
Colt speaks with an intensity I’ve not heard from him yet, but I’m pleased it’s for a topic that includes me. Even if it isn’t a glamorous story.
“Okay, I told you my mom was a journalist, and my dad was in the military. Both of them are super career people. I love them, don’t misunderstand that, but as a child, we moved constantly, and there were times I was with one parent and not the other for months at a time.
” Some people enjoy constantly moving and seeing new places, and until a few years ago, I was one of them.
It was exciting. “My mom gave me her old camera when I was sixteen. I needed to do a project for my high school English class. Take a single photo, then write a short paragraph selling it.”
I glance at Colt while I take a bite of my sandwich. He’s listening. Actually listening.
“After no less than a hundred photos, you know what I picked to talk about and sell?”
Colt shakes his head. “I can’t even guess. What?”
“An orange.” I laugh.
“But the photo spoke to you. How did you sell it?”
Finishing my sandwich, I take a moment to compose my words. I know Colt won’t laugh, but I’ve never shared this with anyone. Nobody has ever asked either, and perhaps that’s something I need to remember, too.
“It was an older orange from the fruit bowl on our counter. I took a photo from the best angle in the sun while sitting on the couch. Then I told a story about how cheerful it is with dimples and how sweet it is inside. I made it out to be the most fun fruit in the store, and my teacher was so impressed he put me in touch with a local newspaper. I got my first job taking photos around town and just…writing to sell whatever it is.”
“That’s super cool to have that talent and opportunity.”
“Yes, I was fortunate.”
“But?” Colt asks, and I risk a glance. He’s watching me with an expression I can’t read.
“Why do you think there’s a but?”
He pauses for a moment and clears his throat. “You lost your animated expression at the end. You were smiling when you talked about the orange photo. Then it faded when you spoke about the newspaper job.”
“Did I?”
He hums, and I scan his profile as he eats the lunch cookie. I’ve massively underestimated this quiet man.
“I never wanted to sell things I wasn’t in love with.
It feels dishonest, but I needed a job, and with all the experience I had from the first newspaper, it just launched me into the world of social media.
At first, I only took offers from companies I liked or supported.
That’s how I made money and got perks like free shoes and clothes. Nothing important, but it helped.”
“If it’s important to you, it’s still important, Ethan. Don’t let other people dictate your inner beliefs.”
“Do you love what you do, Colt? Is this what you saw for yourself when you were thinking about the future?”
I’m almost positive Colt loves this ranch and what he does, but what he says surprises me.
“It’s not what I pictured for myself initially, but I’m happy.
I love working outside and with horses. I love fishing.
Most days, this barely feels like work. What I pictured was something different, but I’m not unhappy with what I do for work.
” He drinks from the water bottle and passes it to me.
“I’m often unhappy with myself, but never work. ”
Our gazes lock, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes before he suddenly stands and gathers our things. “We need to get back to the ranch. It’s a long ride still, and you should stop for some photos on the way back. The view of the valley is gorgeous at dusk.”
I watch his back as he walks to the horses before standing and joining him. We work together with quiet instructions to hand him things, and before we ride, Colt turns to me.
“I’m not unhappy with meeting you, Ethan. I just wish you could stay.”
Then he urges his horse forward, and I’m left to watch his back for the long ride back to the ranch.
I’m not unhappy with meeting him either.
He might even be the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.
When we return to the ranch, Colt lets me help with the horses this time.
Our conversation is back to being about the ranch and the horses we just rode. I take more notes and watch him closely while his words about being unhappy with himself keep tumbling through my mind like the river water over the rocks.
“Do you need a fresh bandage for your thumb?” Colt’s words jolt me back to the present. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. I’m sure there are bandages in the cabin.”
The internal war in Colt plays out on his face, and I wonder if this is part of what he means by being unhappy with himself.
“Can I give you a spare bandage, just in case?” His voice is soft, almost timid, and I nod.
“I won’t say no. Thank you.”
Colt ducks into a small room in the barn, and the door hangs open while he rummages around an old first-aid box. After a few minutes, he holds up a couple of fresh bandages while closing the door behind him.
“I’ll walk you to your, uh, door.”
A pink flush shows on his neck even in the low light, and I silently agree. Our feet crunch in the yard as we cross to my cabin, and I’m still so stuck on everything he said today that I don’t notice we’re already standing outside my door.
“I had a great day, Ethan. One of the best days in a long time.”
“I did, too. You’re a great teacher, and I think I need to practice fishing more for next time.”
His smile picks up. “Yeah? You want to do it again?”
“Definitely.”
We stand there in the glow of the fluorescent light on my porch, staring at each other, and I’m not sure why he walked me here. He’s not the type to look for sex so soon, and for once, I agree.
“We should probably get some rest. Thank you again.”
“I really want to kiss you again,” Colt whispers.
I reach for him, and his strong hands are cupping my face before my hands meet his chest. He tastes a little smoky and sweet from the cigar earlier, and I like it more than I thought I would.
My hands slide up his muscled arms, and my mind goes to places again, thinking of what it might feel like to be wrapped up in them.
Colt breaks our kiss slowly and steps away. “I, um, I wanted to ask you for your number before I kissed you, but I got carried away.”
“My phone number?”
He nods and hands his cell to me. “Put your number in. If I try, we’ll be here until sunrise.”
With a quiet laugh, I enter my number and name and send myself a text to show him.
“All set. Text me, video, or call. Although with the reception here, I’m not sure how often things will come through.”
Colt nods and slides his phone back into his pocket.
“Goodnight, Ethan.”
He spins and walks away, and I call out. “Goodnight, Colt. Drive safe.”
After closing the door behind me and sagging against it, the day’s activity hits me, and I stagger into the shower with the most contented bone-tired exhaustion I’ve ever had.
I laugh when I realize he never gave me the extra Band-Aids.
I don’t think I need them, but I have a feeling Colt wanted more time, and it was a convenient excuse.
The grin on my face grows with that thought.
After I’m dry and in a pair of sweatpants, I pour a bowl of cereal as a snack and, out of habit, pick up my phone.
There’s a single text waiting from Colt.
Colt
I made it home safe. I didn’t give you the bandages.
I snort a laugh, but a vise squeezes my chest, and I absently rub my hand there.
Ethan
thank you, and I didn’t need one anyway, but I appreciate you thinking of me
Colt
you’re welcome
Colt
have a good day tomorrow
Ethan
you, too
No other message comes, and I don’t know what to say anyway. We’re both tired and need sleep. After placing my bowl in the sink, I crawl into bed and fall asleep thinking of oranges and a job I never wanted.