Page 12 of Boss and Brat

Carter glanced back at him, eyes steady, like he could see right through every wall Ethan kept trying to rebuild.

Ethan looked away fast, heat crawling up his neck. He didn’t know what he felt about Carter. Not yet. Not safely. But whatever it was… it was getting harder to ignore.

“Why are we here?” Ethan asked.

“Because if you need cover for any reason, come here.” Carter pulled a key from his pocket and held it out. “No questions asked.”

Ethan stared at the key as if it were something fragile. Something he didn’t deserve.

He took it anyway, stuffing it into his jeans pocket before his hands could shake. He wanted to say thanks. Wanted to saysomething that didn’t sound stupid or small. But the words stuck in his throat.

So, he just nodded, hoping Carter understood what he couldn’t say out loud. And Carter did. Of course he did.

Chapter Five

Ethan turned away from the cabin and walked toward the lake, unsure if he was supposed to start working or wait for instructions. The water shimmered through the trees, calm and silver, and he let himself stare at it just to settle his nerves.

Ethan twisted around. “We’re done?”

“Nope,” Carter said, stepping closer. “We’re gonna talk about my expectations for you.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and tipped his head back. Of course we are. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a long drag.

Carter raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t anyone tell you smoking’s bad for you?”

“What’s it to you?” Ethan muttered, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth.

“No smoking in my presence,” Carter said. “No smoking on the job or in your barn.”

Ethan ignored him and took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke directly toward Carter just to see what he’d do. He didn’t have to wait long.

Carter stepped forward, plucked the cigarette right from Ethan’s lips, tossed it to the ground, and crushed it under his boot.

“Don’t do that again,” Carter said, voice low but firm.

Ethan’s pulse kicked up. “What are you gonna do if I smoke?”

Carter didn’t answer. He just jerked his chin toward the cabin. “Follow me.”

Ethan tilted his head, half defiant, half curious, but he trailed behind him anyway even when he pretended he wouldn’t. Carter took the short path toward the cabin, trying not to stare but failing anyway. He’d been inside once, back when another ranch hand lived there.

Carter turned the key, the lock clicking open, and stepped into the entryway. Ethan followed Carter inside, trying not to look like he was casing the place even though that’s exactly what it felt like, and let the door swing shut behind him. The place hit him with that warm, woodsy smell he already associated with Carter—clean, steady, and no-nonsense.

“Remove your boots and socks.”

Ethan yanked off his boots, stuffed his socks inside, and tossed them against the wall without thinking. They hit with a dull thud and landed crooked, one tipped on its side.

Before he could turn away, Carter’s voice cut through the room—sharp, low, and impossible to ignore. “Straighten those boots. Like mine.”

Ethan glanced over his shoulder. Carter wasn’t yelling, but the look he gave him—steady, unimpressed, and way too calm—hit harder than a shout. Carter stood by the door, his own muddy boots lined up perfectly in the tray, toes even, heels touching. The man didn’t have to raise his voice; that stare alone made Ethan’s stomach dip.

For a second, Ethan considered ignoring him. Just to see what would happen. Just to push back. But Carter didn’t look away. Didn’t blink. Didn’t budge. That did it.

Ethan let out a quiet breath, more annoyed at himself than at Carter, and stooped to fix the mess he’d made. He set each boot beside Carter’s, matching the angle without knowing why he cared so much about getting it right.

He straightened up, feeling weirdly exposed. “Didn’t know boots had to pass inspection,” he muttered.

But he understood at least a little. Carter lived in a world where everything had a place, and Ethan… didn’t. Not yet. And maybe that was the part that bothered him most.