When We Met: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

by Shey Stahl

  He means after me.

  She smiles at him and then back at me. “I might not ever leave.”

  Jace looks over his shoulder and makes a motion I’m supposed to understand. I think he’s implying that she’s hot or into me, but whatever the motion is, it doesn’t register with me. I’m too caught up on what she said. I might not ever leave.

  That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? What the fuck am I thinking. She’s from California. No way she’s staying here. One look at that big-city wild she has, and I know this small town, too-windy, too-boring life isn’t for her. While it’s intriguing to most who pass through looking for serenity, once this is life and there’s nothing else but flat land and the unbearable winters, they leave.

  I know enough not to get my hopes up.

  With ’90s country blaring through the bar, I sit at a table with Kacy, empty food trays between us. Pam Tillis is singing about love being maybe being in Memphis, and I watch my girls dancing on the bar. Aunt Tilly must be missing Colt tonight. Her husband passed away last year, and even though it’s been a year, she still plays ’90s country on Friday nights for him.

  Seeming to take notice of the Christmas lights strung up around us, Kacy motions to them. “Are they excited for Christmas?”

  I drop my head forward, shaking it. I’d completely forgotten with the events of last night that Christmas was in three weeks. “Ecstatic. I promised the girls we’d put up the tree this weekend.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like them,” Kacy says, two fingers of Johnny Walker Red Label in a glass at her lips, her eyes on my girls. “They’re… so tiny, but their personalities are sky-high.”

  I know exactly what she means. My girls are loved by everyone in this bar. They hustle too. They’ll bring you drinks from the bar for a buck and could probably put themselves through college with this gig on Friday nights. I watch Rhett dancing with Camdyn, and Jace trying to hold his own while Sev hustles him at a game of darts.

  Kacy lifts her glass to my beer, her cheeks tinted pink, and neon blue dancing on the side of her face. “I’ve also never met someone like you.”

  “I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing.”

  “Where I’m from, it’s a good thing. Everyone you meet in California has a hidden agenda.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “And that is?”

  “It’s different for everyone, but usually, fuck before you’re fucked.”

  Setting my beer on the table, I snort, laughter rolling through me. “That could be taken in a lot of ways.”

  “Literally.” Across from me, she leans back in her chair, my jacket draped on the back of it, and all I can look at is the way she’s watching me with rapt attention. As if she’s trying to figure out my secrets. Her blue eyes gleam and lift to over my shoulder. “What’s with him?”

  “Who?” I turn my head to see who she’s looking at. All I see is Jace and Sev. She has scissors in her hand, begging to probably cut his hair. “Jace?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s unstable.”

  She laughs into the back of her hand, wiping her lips after taking a drink. “Well, I can tell that. Is he married? Girlfriend?”

  Jealousy swims in my veins. “Don’t bother.” You can’t miss the bitterness in my tone. I don’t give her any details on him. Because it’s as simple as don’t bother. Many have tried in this town, but he’s about as closed off when it comes to love.

  “Oh, I wasn’t….” Shyly, she picks her glass up again and tucks her hair behind her ear with the other. “He’s not my type.”

  I try to hide my smile, but it’s a half-assed effort. “And what is?”

  There’s a slow roll of her throat as she swallows, but if I had to guess, by the purse of her crimson lips, she’s not lying when she says, “I’m not sure I know exactly what my type is, but not him. Or billionaires.”

  I snort, thinking of how much Jace makes in a month. “He’s no billionaire. Boy lives with his mom.”

  Her lips twitch with the need to laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’d probably still be living at home, too, if my mom wasn’t so shitty.”

  Shitty moms? We have that in common, don’t we? I exhale and lift my beer again, keeping an eye on Camdyn as she delivers drinks with the help of Aunt Tilly, who’s watching me like a hawk. I purse my lips at Tilly and meet Kacy’s curious expression once more. “So if you don’t live with your shitty mom, where do you live?”

  “Oh, well, I quit my job and left. So nowhere. I live in my car. I’m homeless.” Her face rearranges as if she’s confused. “You know, I was thinking about it, and I’m not sure why people are called homeless. It’s not like they have less of a home. They have no home at all.”

  I stare at her, laughing. “You have a point.”

  She downs the remainder of her drink. “I need another. You?”

  I look to the girls sitting near the bar, who are about two ginger ales into their Friday night. They certainly don’t plan on leaving any time soon. “Sure. Somethin’ stronger though.”

  She stands, a new flush to her cheeks, blinking slowly as her fingers wrap around the neck of my beer bottle. “Looks like I might get to see you naked after all.”

  I register her comment. I do. But I don’t reply. Words are lost on me. All I can think about is I bet that hand would look good wrapped around my cock. It’d be nice to see someone else cradling him with love for a change.

  I’m slouched in the chair to the right of the bar in between the pool tables and dartboards, admittedly staring at Kacy’s ass. I’m also keeping an eye on each one of my kids, but it’s nice to know that everyone in this bar has their eyes on my kids. Another perk of living in a small town.

  Dad approaches the table with Camdyn on his back. “I hear someone hit the side of the shop.”

  “Yep. That girl over there.”

  Dad steals a glance at the bar and tips his cowboy hat up, revealing a light dusting of his graying black hair and even darker eyes. “How bad?”

  “Not terrible. I can fix it.”

  Camdyn peeks her head around and rests her chin on Dad’s shoulder. “She’s sleepin’ at our house.”

  My dad stifles a laugh as if he knows what’s up and shakes his head. “Son…,” he drawls, his voice grating against the music. My dad has a deep rasp to his tone, kinda like a smoker, but he’s never smoked that I know of.

  “Go away,” I grunt, trying to ignore him. I know I shouldn’t have told Kacy she could stay with me, but I did, and I don’t regret it. In fact, I’m looking forward to watching her sleep on my couch again. “Don’t you have something else to be doing?”

  Every Friday night, my dad comes here. Without his wife. She spends her evening with her sisters at home doing book club, or whatever else a bunch of fifty-year-old women do on Friday nights. Dad comes here to hang out with his sons and granddaughters.

  Before I can get him to leave, Kacy returns with a tray of shots, another beer, and what looks to be another Red Label for her. She sets them on the table and smiles at my dad. “Hi. I’m Kacy.”

  His smile is sincere, like his personality. You’ll never meet a more hardworking, honest, loyal man than the one next to me. He taught me everything he knows about ranching, automotives, and how to treat a woman. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Bishop Grady.”

  “Ah, yes. Another Grady. Let me guess….” She pauses and eyes him carefully. “Dad?” Her eyes drift to mine for confirmation.

  I nod.

  “And Papa B,” Camdyn tells her, kissing my dad on his cheek.

  Kacy wipes her hand on her jeans and then reaches her hand out to my dad. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Grady.”

  “Oh, darlin’, call me Bishop, please.” Peeling Camdyn off his back, he holds her to his chest. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised this little lady a round of poker. Y’all have a nice evening.”

  Dad smirks at me, shaking his head as if to say he knows exactly what I’m up to, but I ignore him. Across f
rom me, Kacy slaps her hand down on the table as she sits. “Your kids play poker?”

  “Camdyn does. Sev can’t read the cards yet and cheats like nobody’s business.”

  Kacy motions to the drinks. “Tilly hooked me up. And wouldn’t take my damn credit card. What’s with this town and not wanting to accept my money.”

  I shrug and eye the drinks. “Ya better watch yourself. She serves ’em strong.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She takes a drink as I reach down and unbutton one cuff of my flannel, roll it up to my elbow, and do the same with the other arm. “Yep. Strong. Holy shit.” She wipes her hand across her lips. “My God.”

  “Told ya. Take it easy, city girl.”

  “I can handle it,” she hedges, motioning for me to drink. “Drink up.”

  “You don’t have it in you to go toe-to-toe with me on drinking.”

  She winks. “Try me, Texas.”

  I take the beer and lift it to my lips, watching her eyes as she checks out the tattoos on my arms but doesn’t say anything about them. “You might regret this.”

  “Probably not. So, Barron Grady, I met your dad, your brother, and aunt Tilly. Who is awesome, by the way. She shared a story with me about you calling her Aunt Titty until you were five, which I found very entertaining. But do I get to meet your mom tonight too?”

  I try to follow everything she just said, but it sounded like word dump to me. “No, you won’t meet my mother.” My eyes drift to Morgan at the bar, standing next to Lillian. I set my beer on the table and take a shot, uncaring as to what it might be. It burns on the way down, and I realize it’s straight scotch. This is my kind of girl. “I got a stepmom you might meet sometime.”

  “Okay.” She cocks her head to the side and studies me. “I’m sensing that’s a sore subject?”

  I breathe in, unprepared for why bringing up my mom brings a sudden rush of nerves through me. Usually, that’s only reserved when people ask about Tara. “Are my mommy issues showing?”

  “Cheers.” She clanks her glass to mine. “I’ll one-up ya, bitch. Mommy and daddy issues here.”

  I chuckle, leaning in. I motion her forward and wait until her eyes are locked on mine before I slowly wet my bottom lip with my tongue. There’s an acoustic version of “Into the Mystic” sang by Gretchen Wilson playing in the background. She blinks softly when I smile. “Did you just call me a bitch?”

  She winks and sits back in her seat, running her fingertip over the rim of her glass. “Bet your ass I did.”

  “Regardless. I win. Wife left.”

  Something crosses her face. An emotion of some sort. Regret? No, it’s sympathy. Maybe she feels bad for me. Not enough apparently because her next words are, “Oh, bullshit. You can’t win this one. Wait for it.” She downs another shot and then slams it down on the wooden table. She points her finger at me when she says, “My boyfriend slept with my mom,” over the music.

  My eyebrows shoot up. “No shit?”

  “Yep. Total shit move by both of them.” She nods, taking another shot. When she’s finished, she shakes her head as if she isn’t surprised. “I caught them in bed.”

  “Okay, so you caught them in bed, then what? Did they pull the ‘it’s not what it looks like’ card?”

  “Nope. He just said, ‘sorry,’ and left it at that.”

  “And your mom?”

  “Well, she’s always been that way, so I really shouldn’t have been surprised.”

  Man. I couldn’t imagine. My dad sleeping with my wife? Fuck that. “Are your parents still together?”

  “Yeah, they are. He just turns a blind eye because rocker, you know them types. They have a very open relationship. But we, as in me and my mom, we did not. She’s a bitch.”

  “Wow.”

  Shaking her head, her lashes lift as her eyes widen, and she blows out a heavy breath. Her skin is radiant, flushed, glowing with that cherry glow of alcohol. “I quit my job a week later, gave all my crap to my neighbor, and bounced.”

  “Bounced?” I laugh.

  “Yep. I broke up with California.”

  I laugh again. “Better off friends?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Kacy.”

  “Oh damn.” She grins, leaning in again, slowly licking her lips in the most sensual way. I fight through the need to grab her face and yank it to mine. Her eyes linger on mine a second longer before she sighs. “Say my name like that again.”

  My cock twitches. “Kacy?”

  She fans her face. “I think I love the South.”

  I can’t help but smirk. What the fuck? Is this really a thing? “Why’d you leave home? Most people break up and move on, not out of the state.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see the South. I hated California.”

  “Can’t say I blame you on that one,” I mumble, wondering if my bitterness is seeping through. Kacy motions toward the bar where Morgan is. “So that’s your brother, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just one brother?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” She bites her lip, staring at me. “Damn. You really can lay on the Southern charm when you want.”

  Discretely, I adjust myself under the table. It’s going to be a long night. I wink, taking another drink of my beer, completely enthralled with her beauty. I can’t stop staring at her. “Darlin’, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  She swipes her tongue over her lip after sipping her drink, and I ache to lick that lip myself. Only I want more. I want to kiss that hollow spot on her neck and know what the swell of each one of her breasts feels like in my hands. “Like what?” she finally asks.

  Everything she does is making me think about having hot, sweaty, hard fucking in my bed later. I’m no longer thinking about her panties. I’ve moved onto what she looks like with no clothes. “For starters, my dance moves.” I nod to the dance floor behind us where Jace is dancing to “Turtles All the Way Down” with Sev; she’s fighting sleep in his arms but hanging on.

  Kacy takes another shot and then holds out her hand. “Then show me before these drinks go from tasting good to ya wanna see my titties.”

  I’m hardly taken off guard. Look at my kids and tell me you wouldn’t be expecting anything at any given moment. But Kacy, I’m not expecting anything she says. Laughter rolls through me again, and I run my hand along the stubble of my jaw. “Jesus Christ.”

  She makes a tsking sound. “Don’t talk to him tonight,” she says, patting my chest as she stands with me and slips her hand into mine. “Where we’re heading, he wouldn’t approve.”

  I have absolutely no clue what she’s talking about, but I go with it because holding her close is exactly what I want to do.

  She stops walking in front of me, and I run into her back, my hands instinctively on her hips. “I… don’t know how to dance, like, proper.” And then she motions with a flick of her hand to a couple doing a slow rhythmic two-step.

  I rest my chin on her shoulder, our cheeks touching, confused as to why I’m suddenly so comfortable around her. I should treat this as a job, one where I fix her car and nothing else, but for reasons I can’t explain, I’m drawn to her. “It’s all in the leading, honey.”

  She shivers in my arms. “Your voice gives me goose bumps every time you speak.”

  I sigh. Wait until I have you naked.

  Fuck me. Stop thinking.

  I don’t want an erection while I’m standing. It’s the worst. It’s like junior high all over again.

  Thankfully, I talk my dick off the edge of him saluting everyone, and we step to the lip of the dance floor. I place my hand on Kacy’s lower back, urging her forward. She spins to face me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Like this?”

  I hold her tight and flush against me. “Like that.”

  “You don’t seem like the type to dance,” she notes, relaxing into my embrace, watching my face.

  I hold tighter and meet
her gaze head-on. “I’m not. I was just looking for an excuse to hold you.”

  She runs her hand higher on my shoulder, fingertips playing with the hair on the nape of my neck. “I thought I was the one trying to seduce you?”

  I don’t say anything. I want to kiss her. I’m close enough, but I won’t. Not here. I breathe in, but I don’t say anything. This girl drunk… you better believe you need to buckle up. She’s like that Mustang my granddaddy had. Loved full throttle and scared the hell out of most men. I’ll tell you something else. No way I’m handing the keys over to her. She can ride shotgun because it’s been a long fucking time for me.

  We sway to the music and move in a circle. She melts into me effortlessly, as if I’ve been holding her my entire life. Her eyes move to the ones around us. “Do you know all these people in this bar?”

  “Yep.” I smile, refusing to allow an inch of space to come between us. “Which is why they’re all looking at you.”

  Her eyes find mine. “Why?”

  “I haven’t been in this bar, holding a woman, since my wife.”

  I don’t think she knows how to take that statement because her eyes dart around and then come back to mine. Her smile tugs at the edges of her beautiful lips I’m dying to taste. “So I’m going to be the talk of the town?”

  With her lips a breath away, I swallow, moving with ease around the dance floor. “You already are.”

  When the song ends, I let go of Kacy and notice Lillian and Morgan talking. There’s distance between them, but their history overshadows the space.

  Lillian, she’s a tiny girl. Five foot two, but curvy. What she lacks in height, she makes up for in attitude. Apparently, the conversation isn’t going well because Lillian jabs her finger into Morgan’s chest as she says something to him, and walks away.

  Back at the table after our dance, Morgan finds me, keeping one eye on Lillian, who moves toward the restrooms with Kacy. “What’s with short girls?”

  “Shorter the woman, closer to hell,” I mumble, finding my eyes drawn to Kacy. I can’t stop staring at her. I’d love to chalk it up to not having had sex in a long fucking time, but it’s more than that.