Passion: A Single Dad Small Town Romance

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Passion: A Single Dad Small Town Romance Page 3

by Bella Winters


  I looked back at the Victorian I had grown up in. It hadn’t changed a bit since I had left, although it could have used a fresh coat of paint, and some of the windows looked like they needed to be changed. Still, it was pretty much the home I had left behind, and a wave of nostalgia washed over me as I took it in.

  Kelly, on the other hand, had found her way back to whatever was taking her attention away on her phone. She was stretched out on the hood of the car, eyes glued to the small screen in her hands, looking more like she hadn’t wanted to come here than ever before.

  “You’re one to talk,” she said, fingers dancing across the touch screen in a way I knew I would never be able to do.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, come on,” Kelly said, exasperated. “When was the last time you picked me up from soccer practice on time?”

  “That’s not fair,” I frowned.

  “Really?” She turned to look at me, raising her eyebrow the way her mother had always done when I said something ridiculous. “I know the groundskeeper by name, dad. I know he’s divorced with three kids, plays in a jazz band on weekends and thinks that religion is a load of shit.”

  “Language,” I replied.

  “Just saying.” She turned back to her phone, once again ignoring me.

  She has a point.

  Janice’s voice seemed to be whispering in my ears more and more these days, and I quickly brushed it aside. A part of me knew that Kelly was right, but what was I supposed to fucking do? I can’t be in two places at the same time, and I never kept her waiting for too long.

  An hour, Alex. At least an hour.

  I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair, turning to look out at the road in hopes of seeing my father’s truck anywhere in the distance. My eyes wandered, and they fell on the few houses around us. I wondered if the people I had grown up around still lived in them. Some of them I had come to really cherish over the years, especially after my mother had passed. Others had seemed like leeches, practically throwing themselves at my father in hopes of becoming the next Mrs. Logan. At least in that department, my father had had the good sense to keep his distance.

  “Did granddad change his truck?”

  I turned around, first looking at Kelly, then focusing my attention on the Range Rover that was making its way toward the house. I frowned, knowing well that there was no way my father could afford another car, let alone a four-by-four. Besides, that old blue Ford had always been his life. His mistress, as my mother had always called it. He had even named it Lulu, for fuck’s sake.

  The Range Rover slowed down as it neared the house, pulling up a few yards away from the house. I tried to get a look at the driver inside, but the sun was reflecting off the windshield and blocking my view.

  “My old man wouldn’t be caught dead in a Range Rover,” I said, waiting.

  The car doors opened and two men stepped out of the Rover, each clad in jeans and a checkered shirt that passed for typical ‘Kent-attire’. I recognized the one with the cigarette in his hands, but couldn’t place him. He smiled at me, obviously recognizing me as well, and threw his hands up in the air in greeting.

  “Holy fucking shit. If it isn’t Alex Logan himself!” he called out.

  “Heath?” I hoped I had the name right. “Heath Collins?”

  “One and only, buddy!”

  I clasped Heath’s hand, and he pulled me into a hug, slapping my back a couple of times more than I would have preferred. I pulled back, attempting to give him the best smile I could fake. I had grown up with Heath, and the nicest thing I could ever say about him was that he knew how to spend his family’s small fortune in ways that would make the billionaires back in Miami cringe. Other than that, I had always steered clear of him. Which made it even stranger that he would show up here.

  “How’s Miami, my man?”

  “Sunny and hot,” I replied, briefly nodding at his friend who was watching me with a deep frown on his face.

  Heath turned to the other man and slapped his shoulder. “Jack, meet Alex Logan,” he introduced us. “We go way back. Like to fucking kindergarten.” Heath turned back to me, all smiles and eyes that mirrored mischief. He looked over my shoulder, and his smile widened. “Now who is that pretty lady?”

  I turned and waved Kelly over, silently happy that she made enough of a fuss before finally sliding off the hood of my car and trudging over. “This is my daughter, Kelly.”

  Heath bent down, hands on his knees, and looked Kelly in the eye. “Welcome to Kent, little lady,” he said. “I bet your dad has told you all about me, eh? His old pal Heath?”

  “Never heard of you,” Kelly responded.

  “Kelly!” I frowned at her, but couldn’t help the smile that played at the edge of my lips.

  “We’re going to have to remedy that, aren’t we?” Heath said, winking at me. “I can show you all the cool places around here. Things have really changed since you left, Alex. Really changed. Kent’s not the same old sleepy little town it used to be.”

  Kelly looked up at me. “Can I get back to what I was doing, please?”

  I nodded and watched her walk away, race away actually, only looking back at Heath once with enough disgust on her face to make me cringe. At least her instincts were spot on.

  “So, what are you doing here?” I asked after I was sure she was out of ear shot.

  “Came to see your old man,” Heath said, briefly looking at the house. “He here?”

  I shook my head. “We’re waiting for him,” I replied. “You’re welcome to join us, but I have to warn you, Kelly isn’t great company.”

  “Typical teenager. She’ll come around,” Heath said, and the way the words came out of his mouth immediately threw up red flags in my head. “Any idea when Samuel will be back?”

  “He knows we’re coming, so I’d say any minute now,” I shrugged. “What’s this about?”

  “That’s between us and him,” Jack cut in before Heath can answer.

  “Excuse me?” I turned to him, my eyes shooting daggers and my fist clenched. I didn’t like this guy, and the way he was looking at me pissed me off.

  “Hey, shut up,” Heath shot at him, slapping his chest. “What’s your problem?” Heath turned to me and shook his head, shrugging. “Sorry, Alex, Jack forgets his manners sometimes.”

  “Apparently so,” I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the idiot who couldn’t control his mouth.

  “We only wanted to talk to him about the land out at Stone Creek,” Heath explained.

  “What about it?” I knew what he was talking about, a dozen or so acres my mother had inherited from her father decades ago. It wasn’t farm land, but the landscape was beautiful, and we often had investors asking us to sell. It was a little strange that Heath would ask about the land, considering that his family already owned most of the land around town. Then again, the man was as unpredictable as a child with matches. There was no telling what his ambitions were.

  “I got a few friends who are interested in the land, willing to pay a pretty hefty price for it, too,” Heath said.

  I nodded, knowing that there was no way my father was going to sell the acreage because of the attachment to my mother. That, and of course the fact that Heath was involved, made me wonder just what good old dad had gotten himself into.

  “I’ll let him know you came by,” I said.

  Heath looked at me for a beat, trying to read me, and finally nodded. “You do that,” he said. He clapped me on the shoulder again and squeezed. “It’s good to see you, Alex, it really is. Let’s get together soon and have a little fun.”

  With that, the two men made their way back to their car, Heath waving at me like an idiot and his friend looking like he wanted to do a lot more than just talk. For the first time since my leave, I wished I had kept my gun on me.

  “You really attract the creeps, don’t you?” Kelly asked as I walked back to her, the Range Rover disappearing around the corner. My leg was startin
g to act up again, my secret friend who promised he was here to stay.

  “I guess so,” I said, unwilling to go into a sarcastic spree with her. At that moment, I was more worried about my father than arguing with my snarky teenage daughter.

  “Is granddad in trouble?” she asked, looking at me seriously.

  She’s definitely got my instincts.

  “Nah, your grandpa can take care of himself,” I mused. “We’ll have to ask him what’s going on when he gets here.”

  Kelly looked at the road and nodded. “Here’s your chance.”

  I turned just as my father’s old Ford turned a bend and lazily made its way up to the house. Dad let out a few honks before pulling up beside my car. “Sorry I’m late, kids!”

  He climbed out of the truck just as Kelly slid off the hood and rushed to hug him. He let out a gasp of surprise when she threw her arms around him, and for a second I thought she’d topple him over and they’d both go down.

  “Wow, who the heck is this young lady and where is my little granddaughter?” Samuel exclaimed. “You’re getting so big!”

  Kelly hugged him harder and smiled at him, the first genuine smile I had seen on her face since the beginning of summer. “And you’re getting so old!” she shot back.

  “Always with the compliments,” Samuel chuckled. “Thank you, sweetheart, I do feel like I’m closer to eighty than seventy.”

  “We’re going to need to get you a wheelchair soon,” Kelly joked.

  “But only the one with a Hemi engine,” Samuel laughed. “I want to be able to race up and down North Main Street with the thing.”

  I smiled, momentarily forgetting about Heath and whatever problems came with him. My father looked great, better than me, in fact, and Kelly was actually glowing.

  The plan to spend late summer in Kent was starting to feel like a great idea.

  Chapter 4: Jenni

  “Hey, there, Casper.”

  I barely had the door closed when Casper, my white German Shepherd, came rushing to me, jumping up and begging for attention. I laughed, ruffled the hair behind his ears and quickly got him down before he threw me off my feet.

  “Who’s a good boy?” I said, clapping and racing him into the kitchen. “Casper’s my boy, aren’t you?”

  I grabbed the dry food and filled his bowl, laughing every time he tried to push me away and thrust his snout into the box. I had to hold him back, and he took the wrestling for a game that he was more than willing to play.

  There were very few memories I took along with me when I moved out. Or to be honest with myself, things my father let me take. Casper was one of them, and the most important one at that. I remember my dad telling me that if I was going to be living alone, there might as well be a man in the house.

  Casper filled that role perfectly.

  I left him to devour his food, and made a mental note to make sure I walked him before I set out again. I kicked off my shoes, took off my shirt and began unbuttoning my jeans as I turned my laptop on. From where I stood, the large windows gave me a perfect view of the woodlands outside my apartment complex, and for a minute I lost myself in its tranquility until the Windows chime brought me back.

  Casper bumped into me as I quickly brought up my email window, and I giggled as he tried to get my attention. “We’re going out, don’t worry,” I said. “Just calm down, will you?”

  I quickly checked my mail, deleting the spam that somehow still found its way into my inbox, and cursed under my breath when I read the message from my publisher. They had changed the publishing schedule again, and that meant I had to double my daily word count just to catch up.

  “No time to lose,” I said and made my way to the bathroom, Casper close behind me. I undressed quickly, turned on the water and stepped into the shower.

  I closed my eyes as the cold water washed over me. I had managed to evade my father as much as possible, but I knew that if he didn’t call me tonight, he was definitely going to talk to me in the morning. I felt like shit, really, not at all happy with what I had done. Even though it had felt fucking incredible. The diner was our bread and butter, and my father had slaved for decades to turn it into what it was today. Just thinking my actions could ruin all that made me feel even worse.

  I had started working at the diner when I was only sixteen, and after my mother had decided that Kent was too small for her ambitions, I was taking on a lot more responsibility than a girl my age should have. I hated her for doing that to me, for deciding to see the world while I had to stay back and pick up the pieces. Still, over the years, Kent had slowly turned from ‘that town you want to get away from’ to a place I couldn’t imagine ever leaving.

  My father had been good to me. He kept food on the table, helped pay through college so I wouldn’t be burdened with student loans, and made damn sure I grew up to be the strong woman he could be proud of. Obviously, fucking in the storage room was not one of the things he’d approve of. Then again, there was very little he approved of. He had given me hell just for moving out.

  “Why the hell do you want to pay rent when you have a perfectly good room right here?”

  His voice still echoed in my head every time I thought back to that night. It hadn’t been easy to explain, and when I thought about it now, I still couldn’t really voice my opinion. I had wanted out, I guess. A little independence, maybe. I loved the man to death, but a girl has got to be able to be on her own without her father constantly looking over her shoulder. Besides, I wanted to be able to bring a guy home without worrying about my father waiting in the living room with a shotgun.

  Besides, I liked living alone. And at the age of thirty, the fact that I had still been living with my father was a little ridiculous.

  I stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and dried myself quickly, before wrapping another one around my head and stepping out into the apartment naked. Another perk I had grown very fond of over the years. I checked my mail again, answered my publisher quickly, and then slumped down on the couch.

  The diner was definitely a handful, and I cherished the hour or two I had between coming back home and driving out to the lake where I liked to write. A good cup of coffee would have made this perfect, if I hadn’t been too tired to get up. I pulled over the small blanket I kept to one side and covered myself, laying my head back on the cushions. If I was lucky, I could maybe get some shut eye before hitting the midnight oil.

  I tried to think of the story I was writing, running through the rough plot I had in my head and tweaking the edges of it where I thought the story could really expand. For a few seconds, I let myself be dragged into the novel, standing to a side like a silent spectator as scene after scene played in front of my eyes. I smiled to myself.

  I had started ghostwriting a couple of months out of college. There weren’t a lot of jobs in Kent for Lit majors, and the fact that I wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon made things even harder. Besides, running the diner was never easy, and I doubted any other full-time position would have given me the chance to help out as much as I currently did.

  Ghostwriting was the perfect gig for me. Working wherever I wanted, a nomad as long as I had my laptop and an internet connection. Over the past two years, I had gotten really good at it, too. The work was paying for rent, gas and a few other bills, making my life a lot more comfortable than the pay from the diner alone would have done. I sometimes wondered if it was worth having two jobs, being harassed with deadlines while I slaved away at the keyboard. But it all seemed to pay off when the stories were done, when the manuscripts were sent in and well received, and even more work would come flooding in.

  Besides, I was writing erotica, and that was always fun.

  I opened my eyes just as Casper began to nuzzle against me, and I remembered that he still needed to be walked. I got up quickly, raced into the bedroom and pulled on the first pair of jeans I could find and a Slayer t-shirt. ‘Music of the devils’ my father had always said, although secretly, he would liste
n to a few heavy metal bands himself when he thought no one was looking.

  I grabbed Casper’s leash, fought to put it on him as he raced around my legs, eager and excited, then lead him out of the apartment. A slight breeze had begun to pick up, and the smell of summer filled my senses. Casper led me along our regular route around the complex and onto a small path leading through the woods behind us. At the end of the path was a clearing that had been turned into a picnic area a couple of years back. Luckily for me and Casper, not a lot of people knew about the path through the woods. Which meant we usually had it all for ourselves.

  The minute we reached the clearing, Casper struggled against the leash until I let him loose and he charged off. The picnic area was pretty crowded this time of day, and beyond the large clearing I could see North Main Street where the main parking lot was. Usually Casper had the good sense to stay close to me, and that gave me enough breadth to really relax while he played with whichever children were willing to give him the time of day. I found a shaded spot near a tree, sat down and pulled my knees to my chest. Days like these made me feel alive, and with the crowd around me enjoying the summer afternoon, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.

  I must have dozed off for quite a while. When I finally opened my eyes, the sun had begun to set and the skies had turned a brilliant orange. Casper was dozing off beside me, and he quickly perked his ears and looked at me when I shifted positions and stretched.

  “You were supposed to wake me up,” I told him, ruffling his fur before reattaching the leash. He got up even more reluctantly than I did, and with little protest let me lead him back to the path home. I looked at my watch, cursed and picked up the pace. If I didn’t get a move on, I’d never get any writing done today.

  Working at home had become harder and harder, and despite the workstation I had set up for exactly that purpose, I had recently found myself becoming distracted by the smallest things. For the past week, I had begun the routine of writing at a small café near the diner, close enough to pop in if needed, but far enough not to be called upon for every little thing. The only problem was the café had a habit of attracting an evening crowd, especially college students, which meant I never really got anything done anyway.

 

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