Sworn Enemy: An MM Enemies-To-Lovers Book (Wild Heart Ranch 1)
Sworn Enemy: Chapter 11

I feel like an overgrown kid riding in the back seat of Patrick’s truck. He and Jason got back from their trip even more loved up, and the ride out to the Goodnights’ was filled with dreamy sighs, clasped hands, and exchanged glances.

I might as well be a bag of groceries back here for all they’re acknowledging my presence.

I’m not mad at it, not really. Envious, yes. But happy that my brother has found his person.

My thoughts drift, as they always do, back to Charlie. I’m glad we got to talk things out earlier this week, and I’m happy we both agreed that Sunday dinner was too important to skip. Doesn’t mean this isn’t going to feel awkward as hell.

We pull into the parking space in front of the main house at Rebel Sky Ranch and get out. Damn, this place is pretty. It was always lovely, but then Trip went out and got a fancy degree at A&M and figured out how to keep his land lush despite Texas’ ongoing drought situation.

Some ranchers out here are stuck in their ways, hard-headed. They love the land but can’t get past the fact that the world seems to be moving on without them. Then there are guys like Trip, who embrace the new ways while respecting the old and paint the land liberally with both.

It’s no wonder Charlie Wills fell head over heels for him in high school. Trip’s always been this way, a rancher to the bone with artist’s hands, and to see how he took what his dad gave him and elevated it is pretty special. It goes beyond what anyone in the area has seen before.

Better yet, many local ranchers are following suit, even some of the old guard.

As we walk up the steps to the front porch, Sam opens the door, herding us inside with hugs and smiles. Patrick and Jason go ahead of us, and Sam links arms with me.

“I’m glad you’re here. It wasn’t the same without you last week.”

I know it’s mostly meddling on his and Desi’s part, but his sweet words make my eyes prick. Overemotional much, Jennings?

“Thank you. I’m glad to be here.”

Sam’s grin turns troublesome. “Good. Charlie’s already here, and you’re seated next to him.”

Called it.

I approach the table, which is filled with three types of enchiladas and more sides than you can shake a stick at. We’re last to arrive, so I hustle over to where Charlie is already seated, and he catches my eye. Gesturing to the seat next to him, he says, “What can we do?”

“Exactly what they tell us to do,” I say, chuckling as I plop down next to him.

God, he smells nice.

He’s also recently gotten his hair trimmed and is wearing an artfully faded denim button-down over a white tank top, paired with loose linen pants and leather huaraches. I want to ask him what soap he uses but decide against it.

He leans in, keeping his voice low. “I’m glad we had a chance to talk last week. Clear the air. No need for this to be awkward.”

I smile back, nodding. “Yeah, well, with me, there will always be some measure of awkward, but at least we’ll be able to prevent my more tragic levels of ineptitude.”

A line appears between his brows, and he puts his hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re a cool guy with a lot going for you.”

I raise a brow and make a show of looking around. “Who paid you to say that?”

The eyebrow thing intensifies, and he leans in a little closer. “Seriously, you don’t have to do that around me. We don’t have to be this whole tragic backstory anymore.”

The sincerity in his silver-blue eyes is unassailable, and I’ll need a rescue inhaler if I keep peering into them. Quick, do something cool.

“Agreed.” I stick out my hand, and he shakes it.

Crisis averted.

We turn our attention back to the table, and everyone’s looking at the two of us.

I shake my head and thumb-gesture between us. “We’re adults, y’all. We’ve moved on from high school. Don’t make it awkward.”

Charlie raises his hand to his mouth, snorting lightly, and my eyes catch on the leather bracelets, which are damn sexy against his tan skin. Definitely a detail I should not be drooling over with everybody looking at us.

I clear my throat and return my attention to the table.

Desi nods. “Fair enough. Alright, y’all. They aren’t a zoo attraction. Dig in before my enchiladas get cold.”

That seems to break the spell, and everyone starts piling food on their plates and passing the sides.

Charlie leans over and whispers out the side of his mouth, “Every time I think I’ve got you pegged, you still manage to surprise me.”

I bite my lip and hope the flush on my cheeks isn’t too noticeable. “In what way?” I ask, passing him the salad.

“I keep forgetting that you’re funny. Honest and funny. Gonna take a minute because it’s not what I was expecting from Justin The Jackass Jennings.”

I grin at his nickname for me, grabbing the salsa from Wyatt. “Disappointed?”

“Not even close.”

I swallow hard and send a glance in his direction. He’s smiling at me, bringing a bite of salad to his lips. Is that…? Is he flirting with me?

Nah. That’s silly.

At least he isn’t angry at me anymore. Definitely a check in the win column.

We talk a little bit about what it was like to come out and how our experiences differ.

“Watching gay movies was a turning point for me,” I admit.

“Really? In what way?”

My cheeks warm up as he starts laughing. “Wait, wait, wait. By gay movies, do you mean porn?”

I check the rest of the table, and people seem to be minding their business. “No,” I hiss under my breath. “Like actual movies.”

“Whatever.” He takes a big, cheesy bite of enchilada, then continues talking with a mouth full of food. “Name one.”

“No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”

He swallows and wipes his mouth with one of the Goodnight’s homemade dinner napkins. “Cross my heart, I won’t,” he promises, grinning a bit too broadly to be taken seriously.

I focus on the table and cover my face. “Fine…Love, Simon kinda changed my life.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I peek through my fingers at him to make sure he’s not fucking with me. He looks sincere.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. I mean…Simon did some shitty stuff to keep his sexuality hidden, and he paid a heavy price. But he wasn’t a bad guy, just scared of showing his true self. And, you know, his friends forgave him when they saw he was genuinely sorry. Letting other people really get to know him allowed them to interact with him authentically.”

I nod. “That scene with his dad gets me every time.”

Leaning in, he grabs my hand. “Of course it would. For me, it’s that scene with his mom. It just…damn.” Charlie’s voice is rough at the end, and genuine emotion shadows his eyes.

Regretfully pulling away from his hand, I grab my phone and show him my Spotify list. “I’ve listened to the soundtrack a hundred times.”

“Yes,” he says, genuinely excited. “God, that soundtrack is everything. The song at the very end…”

He likes the same song.

It takes all my willpower and every remaining brain cell not to stick my face in the crook of his neck and inhale his heady scent while basking in the thought that we both found the same movie and song meaningful. Instead, I attempt a normal human response.

“The one by the Bleachers? ‘Wild Heart?’”

He smiles, wistful. “Yeah. Sometimes—if I’ve had a shit day, or I lose the purpose of what I’m doing—I listen to that on repeat.”

Rubbing my chest, I nod enthusiastically. “In my mind, it’s not just about finding any way to someone else’s heart but remembering to find my own authentic heart. Like, that I have a wild heart too.”

Charlie looks a little stunned. “Shit. I never…huh. Never thought about it that way, but it’s kinda obvious now that you say it. Guess I’ll be listening to it again.”

Giving my arm a squeeze, he goes back to his enchiladas rojas. I refocus on the enchiladas suizas in front of me, vowing not to overthink our exchange too much. And to find out his fucking brand of soap before my head explodes.

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