Page 76 of Boss and Brat

Carter caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ethan said, cheeks warming. “Just… you look good today.”

Carter laughed. “I look the same as every day.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “That’s kinda the point.”

Carter didn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile.

They rolled down the long ranch road, gravel popping under the tires. When they reached the main road, Carter turned right, heading toward town. Ethan relaxed back into the seat, watching the world blur by—fields, fences, the familiar stretch of sky. Then the church came into view.

Ethan stiffened. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s the crazy church they forced me to go to.”

Carter slowed just a little, eyes flicking toward the building. “Yeah? Looks like every other church around here.”

“It’s not,” Ethan muttered. “They’re… intense. Controlling. Judgmental. I hated it.”

Carter nodded once. “My parents made me go too. Every Sunday. Every holiday. Every time the doors were opened. I hated every minute.”

Ethan looked over at him, surprised. “You did?”

“Hell yeah,” Carter said. “Didn’t matter what I felt or believed. They wanted obedience. That’s all church ever was to them.”

Ethan swallowed, his throat tight. “I saw my mom’s car,” he said. “She’s probably inside.”

Carter’s jaw flexed. “Ignore it. She doesn’t get a say in your life anymore.”

Ethan nodded, but his stomach still twisted. He turned his gaze out the window again, watching the church shrink behind them.

After a minute, he said, “If it weren’t for Sarah, I don’t think I would’ve made it with them. She’s the best sister. She used to visit me at Chico all the time. She’s going to Paris this week. I’m gonna miss her.”

Carter’s voice softened. “She sounds like a good one.”

“She is,” Ethan said. “She’s the only one who ever treated me like I wasn’t broken.”

Carter was quiet for a moment, then he said, “I get that.”

Ethan looked over. “You do?”

Carter kept his eyes on the road, but something in his expression shifted—like he was letting Ethan see a part of him he usually kept locked away.

“I grew up in Berclair, Texas,” Carter said. “Higgins Riverbend Ranch. Youngest of three boys. Mason and Harley… they made damn sure I never forgot it.”

Ethan leaned in, listening.

“They pushed me. Mocked me. Tested me. Everything was about proving you were a man. Hunting, fishing, drinking, chasing girls. And if you didn’t fit that mold…” Carter shook his head. “They turned mean.”

Ethan’s insides tightened, refusing to settle. “Carter…”

“They hated I wouldn’t date girls,” Carter said. “Hated that I didn’t enjoy killing animals for fun. Thought I was soft. Weak. After college. Even after I joined the Marines. Nothing was ever enough.”

Ethan stared at him, filling him with awe. Carter wasn’t just strong—he’d survived things Ethan couldn’t even imagine. And he’d done it alone.

“You’re nothing like them,” Ethan said. “You’re… better.”

Carter didn’t look at him, but his grip on the wheel eased. “Didn’t feel that way growing up.”

“Well,” Ethan said, voice soft but certain, “I think you turned out pretty damn amazing.”