Page 31 of Boss and Brat

Two men stood at the barn door, fists raised like they were ready to pound again. One wore a leather vest that reeked of stale beer even from a distance, patches peeling at the edges. The other had a chain wrapped around his knuckles, links clinking as he shifted his weight. Their boots didn’t match anything worn on a ranch—slick city soles, dusted with gravel from the road, not dirt from the fields.

Carter didn’t slow down. He pulled up hard, engine growling, dust swirling around him. “Back off,” he said, voice steady with a weight that made both men freeze like they’d just stepped in front of a charging bull.

In unison, they turned to face Carter. Up close, they looked even more out of place—eyes too wild, shoulders too loose, the kind of swagger that came from picking fights they thought they could win. One had a busted lip with dried blood crusted at the corner. The other’s jacket hung open, showing a knife sheath strapped to his belt.

Not ranch hands.

Not locals.

Trouble that didn’t belong anywhere near Ethan.

Carter stepped off the motorcycle, shoulders squared. “You heard me. Leave.”

Something in his tone made them rethink whatever they had come for. They exchanged a look, muttered something under their breath, and backed away. Within seconds, they were gone by foot and swallowed by the dark road leading off the property.

Carter didn’t watch them leave. He was already heading for the barn.

“Open up. Carter here.”

Ethan unlocked the door and stood inside the doorway, barefoot, hair messed up, phone still in his hand. His eyes were wide, chest rising fast as if he’d been holding his breath.

“You okay?” Carter asked.

Ethan nodded, but the tremor in his hands said otherwise. “They just… showed up. I didn’t know what they wanted.”

Carter stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’re not staying out here tonight.”

Ethan blinked. “What?”

“Grab your clothes. Whatever you need.” Carter jerked his chin toward the cot. “You’re coming to my place.”

Ethan hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “For the night?”

“For as long as it takes,” Carter said. “I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

“But what about my father?”

“He’s not your problem. He’s mine, so don’t worry about him.”

The barn creaked around them, wind slipping through the cracks. Ethan swallowed hard and nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me get my stuff.”

Carter waited by the door, jaw tight, eyes on the dark road where the men had disappeared. The protective pull in his chest tightened again, and much stronger this time, impossible to ignore.

Chapter Thirteen

Carter kept Ethan close on the ride back, the motorcycle’s engine humming under them, the night air sharp against his bare arms. Ethan gripped the back rail so tight his fingers cramped around the metal, the vibration from the bike running straight through his hands. His gaze stayed locked on the cabin ahead like he needed something solid to aim for.

Inside, Carter flicked on the lights. Warm yellow filled the space, chasing off the cold that clung to Ethan’s clothes. The kid hovered near the door, duffel slung over one shoulder, looking like he wasn’t sure he could step farther in.

“Spare room is this way,” Carter said, nodding down the hall.

He led him to the small bedroom across from his own. Though the bed was already made by force of habit, he still fussed with it, smoothing out an insignificant crease in the blanket. Ethan stood in the doorway, watching him like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Carter stepped back. “It’s not fancy, but it’s clean. Sheets are fresh. Bathroom’s right across the hall.”

Ethan nodded, but his eyes were still wide, still shaken. The poor kid hadn’t fully come down from the adrenaline.