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A will with claws. A ranch with ghosts. And a love that breaks every rule.
Jesse
I swore I’d never set foot on Hell Creek again. The last time I left that driveway, I was eighteen with a split lip, a packed duffel, and a promise to never look back. But death has a way of dragging you home. My stepfather’s will is simple and cruel: live on the ranch for one full year—with my stepbrother—or we lose everything. No sale. No shortcuts. No running.
Cole was the golden boy who stayed, the cowboy whose silence cut deeper than words. We learned to fight before we learned to talk. Now we’re fixing fence at dawn, sharing coffee from a chipped thermos, sleeping under a roof that smells like leather and rain. The anger thaws. Looks linger. The line we swore we’d never cross starts calling our names.
But Hell Creek keeps score. Old debts. Older lies. And if I choose him, I’m gambling the last thing my stepfather left me—this land, this legacy, this chance to make something right.
Cole
Hell Creek raised me—the dust, the cattle, the busted knuckles, the quiet that settles after a storm. I stayed when Jesse ran. I held the ranch together with baling twine and stubbornness while our father got mean and the winters got meaner. I told myself I hated Jesse for leaving, but the truth is uglier: I never stopped looking for his truck in the rearview.
Now he’s back, taller, sharper, wearing the city on his shoulders like armor. We trade barbs at breakfast and silence at supper. Then the work does what work always does—knocks the edges off. Fixing fences side by side. Driving the cattle down to winter pasture. Sharing heat when the generator dies and the house goes cold. The past doesn’t disappear, but it makes more sense in the dim glow of a lantern and the sound of his breath in the next room.
Wanting him is wrong by every story we were told. But out here under a sky so wide it could swallow you whole, I’m starting to think the only sin is walking away from the one person who makes this place feel like home.
Hell Creek Boys is a gritty, taboo slow burn about enemies-to-lovers, family secrets, and the price of legacy—nostalgic small-town grit, frost-bit Montana nights, and a hard-won love fierce enough to outlast the storm.
Genre: Gay Romance
Jesse
I swore I’d never set foot on Hell Creek again. The last time I left that driveway, I was eighteen with a split lip, a packed duffel, and a promise to never look back. But death has a way of dragging you home. My stepfather’s will is simple and cruel: live on the ranch for one full year—with my stepbrother—or we lose everything. No sale. No shortcuts. No running.
Cole was the golden boy who stayed, the cowboy whose silence cut deeper than words. We learned to fight before we learned to talk. Now we’re fixing fence at dawn, sharing coffee from a chipped thermos, sleeping under a roof that smells like leather and rain. The anger thaws. Looks linger. The line we swore we’d never cross starts calling our names.
But Hell Creek keeps score. Old debts. Older lies. And if I choose him, I’m gambling the last thing my stepfather left me—this land, this legacy, this chance to make something right.
Cole
Hell Creek raised me—the dust, the cattle, the busted knuckles, the quiet that settles after a storm. I stayed when Jesse ran. I held the ranch together with baling twine and stubbornness while our father got mean and the winters got meaner. I told myself I hated Jesse for leaving, but the truth is uglier: I never stopped looking for his truck in the rearview.
Now he’s back, taller, sharper, wearing the city on his shoulders like armor. We trade barbs at breakfast and silence at supper. Then the work does what work always does—knocks the edges off. Fixing fences side by side. Driving the cattle down to winter pasture. Sharing heat when the generator dies and the house goes cold. The past doesn’t disappear, but it makes more sense in the dim glow of a lantern and the sound of his breath in the next room.
Wanting him is wrong by every story we were told. But out here under a sky so wide it could swallow you whole, I’m starting to think the only sin is walking away from the one person who makes this place feel like home.
Hell Creek Boys is a gritty, taboo slow burn about enemies-to-lovers, family secrets, and the price of legacy—nostalgic small-town grit, frost-bit Montana nights, and a hard-won love fierce enough to outlast the storm.
Genre: Gay Romance
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Used availability for Atreus Rosewood's Hell Creek Boys