Page 95 of Boss and Brat

Ethan leaned forward in the seat, watching him with that steady, earnest look that always made Carter feel seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

“You’re protecting me,” Ethan said. “And during… we fell for each other. Right?”

Pressure gathered beneath Carter’s ribs, sharp and sudden.Yeah. They had.And that was the problem and the truth all at once. He nodded. “We did.”

They reached the coast just as the sky started turning that soft, late-afternoon gold. Carter pulled into a beachside restaurant with a wooden deck that overlooked the ocean. The distinct aroma of grilled fish and the briny scent of the sea filled the air, accompanied by the persistent roar of the ocean meeting the stone shore.

They ordered dinner, and while they waited, Ethan pointed out toward the water. “I used to come here with Sarah,” he said. “We stayed with our grandparents. We’d swim all day. They took us kayaking, tide pooling… all kinds of stuff.”

“Why did your family choose this beach near Fort Bragg?” Carter asked.

Ethan leaned back in his seat, watching the water with a soft, familiar smile. “My grandfather retired here,” he said. “He was an Admiral. Coast Guard. This was his favorite stretch of the coast.”

Carter’s grip stilled.

An Admiral.

Ethan kept talking, voice warm with memory. “He used to bring us down to the station sometimes. Not inside, but close enough to see the boats go out. He loved it here.”

“Did your father also enlist in the Coast Guard?”

“No, he told me he was too busy at the ranch.”

Carter didn’t say anything right away. The idea of Ethan’s childhood tied to this coastline—sun, salt, a man in uniform teaching him how to read the tides—settled over Carter in a way he didn’t expect.

“The odd thing was my grandparents didn’t speak to my father because they hated my mother. So, my grandfather picked us up in front of our home and took us here and returned us.”

Carter almost had to laugh at his grandparents not approving of Ethan’s mother, but he didn’t. She was a major problem for the Evans family.

Ethan reached across the table and took Carter’s hand, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. “Tell me why you’re not smiling.”

Carter blinked, caught off guard. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Ethan squeezed his hand. “Why are you so upset? Did you… change how you feel about me?”

The question hit Carter like a punch. He sat back, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to scare Ethan. He didn’t want to lie either.

“No,” Carter said. “I didn’t change how I feel. That’s the problem.”

Ethan frowned, confused.

He didn’t look at Ethan when he spoke. He didn’t trust what might show on his face.

“Something changed. I feel it,” Ethan said.

“It’s been a long day.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. The truth sat somewhere deeper—tight, unsettled, shifting every time Ethan leaned closer or brushed his knee against Carter’s under the table. Carter’s hand twitched like he wanted to reach back… and didn’t. Ethan noticed. Of course he did.

“You keep doing that,” Ethan murmured.

“Doing what?”

“Pulling away like you’re afraid someone’s watching.”

Carter hadn’t realized he was doing it, not consciously.

Ethan leaned forward, studying him with that open, earnest look that always made Carter feel too seen. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”