by Shey Stahl
“Must be. She’s mean as shit all the time.”
“Or maybe because you’re you, and you cheated on your wife with her.”
“We’re separated.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Fuck you. What’s with you and California?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” he mocks, walking away. “I better not have to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”
I check on the girls, find Sev asleep on Jace’s lap as he sits in a booth chewing on memories he won’t talk about. He’s lost in thought, whiskey in one hand, his phone in the other. I’m curious if he’s going to call Abbi, but doubtful he will.
Camdyn is with my dad, lost in an intense game of poker, and looks like she might be winning.
There’s another Gretchen Wilson song playing when Kacy returns to the table. She’s dancing her way back to the table, glossy-eyed and sexy as fucking sin. I want to grab her, throw her on this table and show her exactly what she’s been missing with a country boy.
I’m slouched to the side, with my leg kicked out in front of me. I smile at her, and Kacy winks at me. “Christ, boy. Could you look any sexier?”
I smirk. “You’re drunk.”
She trips and catches herself on the table. “True. So… this wife of yours. She’s a loser if you ask me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Leave a guy like you? Must’ve been fucked in the head.”
“Or tired of this life.” I lean in, my elbows on the table. “Sure. It’s fun here because you’re new in town. You’re not used to the drama or the rumors. Everybody knows your business.”
Reaching for her purse, she takes out what looks to be Chapstick and sweeps it over her lips. “You mean like Morgan and Lillian?”
“Yes, exactly. When Tara left, I was the talk of the town. That shit gets old real fast.”
“So is that why she left? Rumors?”
“Fuck if I know. She…” I sigh, thinking of Tara, someone I actively try not to think about. “She was destined for a bigger life than what Amarillo had to offer.”
“And you?”
“I was a temporary setback.”
Kacy’s eyes flutter. “She’s a bitch.”
“You know her?” I tease. “You are from California?”
Her eyes widen, her mouth gaping open. “I… don’t think so.”
I reach for my beer. “I’m just fuckin’ with you.” I take a drink, wishing we weren’t talking about Tara. And I definitely don’t want to think about the fact that we got married in this bar, and the only girl I ever danced with, until tonight, had been her. “Anyways, I haven’t seen her in three years. And I don’t miss her. She can have her wandering ways. I’ll take little girl giggles any day,” I tell her, my eyes on Camdyn hustling for her college fund.
“You’re quite the poet.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Have you heard from her since she left?” she asks, her gaze on her drink.
“She called once to yell at me for sending the divorce papers back.”
Her expression is completely void of emotion when she asks, “Why did you?”
I draw in a heavy breath. “She won’t give me what I want, and until that happens, she’s staying legally married to me.”
Lillian approaches the table, rolling her eyes at me and nodding to Kacy. “You stayin’ with me, girl?”
I snap my eyes to Kacy.
“Actually, no.” She smiles at me. “Barron’s couch is too good to pass up.”
So is my bed. I fight the urge to stick my tongue out. I don’t say anything, but you can bet your ass Kacy’s thinking about my bed. Look at her. Flushed cheeks, eyeing me like she wants to fuck my brains out. I may have been out of the game a while, but I know this look.
“Suit yourself.” Lillian looks to me, her expression flat but eyes glossed over. “See you Monday.”
I kick her leg. “Have Morgan drive you.”
“He’s done enough driving.”
Before she can leave, I rip her keys from her hand. “And I’m not scraping you off the highway later.” I toss them at Morgan, and he catches them.
Lillian points her finger in his chest again. I bet he has a bruise there by now. “Hands to yourself, cowboy.”
He snorts, pushing her forward but doesn’t say anything.
Kacy cranes her neck forward. “I don’t know his wife, but he and Lillian, so cute together.”
“And very dramatic,” I add, watching them fight the entire way out of the bar with her trying to get her keys back.
Somehow more shots are ordered, and our conversation takes a turn. There’s another Pam Tillis song playing, “Shake the Sugar Tree,” and Kacy’s swaying to the beat in her seat across from me. “I should have known,” she begins, but then doesn’t continue.
I raise an eyebrow as I set my empty shot glass down. “What?”
“The motherfucker that fucked my mom. I should have known he’d pull that crap on me. Billionaires. They always lie.”
“Oh, right. That guy. I forgot about him already.” Billionaire? Jesus. Where’d this girl come from? I’m out of my league here.
“He sucked. And not in the good way, if ya know what I mean.” To clearly point out what she’s talking about, she literally jabs a finger between her legs. Yep. Jealous of her finger. “He was a shitty fuck so I don’t even get why my mom wanted him. Probably because she wanted what she couldn’t have, but could have, whatever. Anyways”—she leans in, her tone hushed and shaky. I have trouble keeping up with what she’s talking about but am completely enthralled at every word that leaves her lips—“when we fucked, he had the audacity to ask me if I came after jackhammering the shit out of me. Did I come?” she mocks. “Ha. Bitch, ya, I came. To the wrong fuckin’ house.”
I think I’m in love. Swallowing, I lean in and brush my knuckles to hers when I set my shot down. “See, that’s where country boys have the advantage.” I swallow over the tightness in my chest.
“How’s that?”
With a sigh, my elbows on the table. I wait for her eyes to meet mine, and when they do, I push a little more of that Texas drawl into my tone with I tell her, “We might talk slower, but we never leave ya hanging.”
She sets her drink down so fast it splashes out of her glass and onto the table. Her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip. “I think I’d like to find out.”
Contagious laughter, fucking crazy, blue eyes… I’ll do the math for you. It equals fucked.
I’ll tell you something though. This girl across from me, she’s like a shot of top-shelf whiskey. Packaged well. Strong. But never underestimate the kick because it’ll hit ya quickly.
How’s that for a fucking poem?
Another time in my life when I think about my life decisions and regret them.
BARRON
Kids asleep?
Check.
Drunk girl ready for me?
Hmm. Check? I’m not sure how drunk she is. Enough that she stumbled coming into the house and can’t stop giggling.
She’s standing in front of me, waiting for me to react. Do something. Anything. Leaning in closer, I dip my head until we’re so close I can feel her breath on my lips. “Hey.” My palms are sweaty, my stomach is doing all kinds of weird things, and I think this is what it feels like to be nervous. It’s awful.
Kacy’s lips curve up, amused. “Thank you for tonight,” she says quietly. “I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun.”
I lose myself in those clear blue eyes, stepping closer to her. “Anytime, ma’am.”
Grabbing hold of my shirt with her hands, she yanks me forward. “You have to stop calling me that.”
I don’t wait for her to say anything else. The physical draw to taste her is too much. I close the distance between our lips and kiss her. It’s slow at first, exploring, hesitant on my part. It’s been a long time since I kissed someone like this. With my hand on the small of her back, I
pull her closer, needing us to be touching in every possible way. But I can’t get close enough, taste her deep enough.
I back her against the fridge, needing something to push against. There’s certainly no complaints on her part. She arches her back, easing up on her tippy-toes to wrap her arms around my neck. Dragging my tongue across her lips, I wait to see what she’s going to do. It’s not messy or even eager. It’s… slow. Pliant. And feels electric.
She gasps, and I slide my tongue inside her hot and needy mouth because it feels too good not to. To be fair, I gasp too. I can practically feel her nipples pressing through the fabric against my chest. It’s then I wonder if she has nipple piercings. She might. It’s awfully hard. And now I want to explore that. What if she has more piercings?
Just as I’m about to feel her up and find out for myself, I hear footsteps and “Daddy? I need water.”
“Yes.” I break the kiss fast and step back, gasping, only to see Camdyn at my feet.
She holds up her water bottle, her princess eye mask covering one eye but not the other. “Please?”
I fight off a smile at how cute she looks in her Elsa nightgown and my anger that she interrupted me with Kacy. As I’m filling water and Camdyn is staring up at Kacy curiously, I sneak a glance Kacy’s way. Her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed… I look good on her. She waves to Camdyn awkwardly. “Hi.”
Camdyn cocks her head to the side. “Hi.”
Over my shoulder, I glare at my child. I need water. You know what that’s code for? Do the math. It’s their way of cock blocking you. Also, again, wear a condom. We’ve been over this before. “Here.” I force the water bottle into Camdyn’s hand. “Go to bed.”
She scrunches her nose like a bunny. “Tuck me in,” she demands, as if it was rude of me to not offer.
I lift my eyes to Kacy. “I’ll be right back.”
Kacy sucks in a breath, her lashes batting, but there’s a distinct smile on her face. “Take your time.”
Take your time? She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew what I was going to do to her.
I haul Camdyn into my arms. “It’s three in the morning. You need to stay in bed.”
“I can’t,” she whines, laying her head on my shoulder and yawning. “I’m worried about Lulu.”
“She’s a horse with hair in a heated barn.” Tripping over shoes and toys they’ve left on the floor, I place Camdyn on the top bunk, my chin resting on the railing. “She’s fine.”
She raises her head from the pillow and peers at me with those dark questioning eyes. “But it’s so cold outside.”
“Again, she’s in a heated barn.” I groan, my blood pressure rising. “Go to sleep.”
Sitting up, she grins at me. She looks so much like Tara in this moment, my heart hits my stomach. She sips her water, then asks, “Do you like Kacy?”
I snort. No. I want to fuck her. There’s a difference. But then I think, is there? Because part of me will be disappointed once I fix her car. If I fix her car. I still haven’t decided how long I’m going to take. I could potentially draw this out even longer. Because I do, in fact, like her. I back up a step. “Go to sleep.”
She flops herself back on the bed with a grunt. “Fine.”
Leaning down, I pick Sev’s legs up and put her back in her bed. She doesn’t stir at all.
Closing their door, I make my way back out to the kitchen where Kacy is standing at the sink, a glass of water in her hand and staring at the cat on the counter beside her. “I hope it’s okay. I helped myself to water.” She gestures to the cat. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“We don’t.” The cat looks at me, his ears back as if he knows what I said. It’s a true “what the fuck” look.
“Oh my God.” Kacy shoots me a panicked expression, backing away from it. “How’d he get in here?”
I laugh at her startled face. “I’m just fucking with you. That’s Sev’s cat, Vader.”
She holds her hand to her chest. “You jerk.”
I stand on the other side of the kitchen island that’s separating us. She smiles, and then that turns into a laugh.
“Did she see us?”
I shrug and try to work a little more of that Southern accent into my words. “Probably, I don’t know. She asked me if I liked you.”
By the new flush in her cheeks, I’d say that kiss is still very much on her mind. “To be five again.”
I eye her chest and then lower to the parts I wish were on my fucking cock at the moment. “My thoughts are definitely not that of a five-year-old.”
There’s hesitation in her eyes, but she smiles around it. Her gaze trails over my face, down my chest, and lower. “Neither are mine.” She moves around the counter and toward me.
I have no idea what I’m going to do next, but I know my heart is hammering in my chest with anticipation. I want to take her hand and lead her into my room, lie her on my bed and cover my body with hers.
“Daddy!”
The voice of my youngest rings through the house, but it’s hysterical crying, which tells me this isn’t a quick fix. This is an “I had a nightmare, so my ass is sleeping in a toddler bed again” kinda cry.
Goddamn it!
Letting out a heavy sigh, I step back with a suffering groan leaving my lips. I glance over my shoulder at the hallway and then back to Kacy. “I’m sorry. I’d like to say it’s never like this, but it is.”
She puts her hand to my chest. She smells so fucking good that it makes me want to lick every inch of her, and that’s not even an exaggeration. I’d gladly do it. “It’s okay.” Her voice goes quieter. “Maybe this isn’t supposed to happen tonight.”
I hate my life right now. I glance at the cat still on the counter. I bet if he could talk, he’d call me a pussy right now. “Probably. But tell me something,” I whisper in her ear.
“Okay….”
Running my nose along her jaw, I inhale to torture myself. She smells like honey and lavender. “What color are your panties?”
“I’m not wearing any,” she says, her voice trembling, thick with desire.
My forehead rests against her collarbone. “Fuck…”
A giggle works its way past her lips. “I’m just kidding.” With her hands on my shoulders, she presses a kiss to the side of my neck. I feel that kiss from my junk to the base of my skull. “Black.”
“Sometime soon.” I draw in a quick breath and step back, swallowing hard. “I’m going to see what they look like around your ankles.”
This time a sigh leaves her lips. “I think I might like that.”
Sev’s working up to max volume and woke up Camdyn, who I’m pretty sure never went to sleep. Inside their room, Sev is crying into her pillow, and Camdyn is rubbing her back. “Toddlers are a lot of work.”
I push my hand through my hair and take a breath as I turn on the light. “What’s wrong?”
“She threw up,” Camdyn tells me without pity. “It stinky.”
Fuck. I kneel beside them to see Sev has, in fact, puked all over her bed and herself. “Little girl. It’s just puke. No need to cry.”
That does nothing for her. She screams louder, her tiny body trembling. Despite being covered in vomit, she reaches for me while Camdyn plugs her nose. And now I have vomit all over me. Her teeth chatter dramatically, and she holds onto my neck, sobbing.
I end up having to give Sev a bath and lie with her for over an hour. It’s nearing four in the morning when I finally get her back into bed with clean sheets and both of us in fresh clothes. I have to be up in two hours to help Morgan, and though I need sleep, I can’t help but check on Kacy before I go to bed.
She’s sprawled out on my couch like she flopped herself on there and passed out. What if I woke her up and snuck her into my room? She wouldn’t mind, would she?
Unfortunately for me, I’m a sucker for a girl sleeping. There’s something so undeniably beautiful about the peacefulness on their faces. I can’t disturb her. But I do sneak another glance at
her flawless, makeup-free face framed by her auburn hair. The fire I started when we came home is starting to fade, but it casts a soft glow on her complexion. I wish her eyes were open so I could see those bright blues staring back at me.
Sighing, I head to my room and close the door. I think about pushing my dresser in front of the door to keep myself in here, but I don’t and chalk it up to another sleepless and fuckless night.
I’ll take calloused hands and Carhartt any day
KACY
What the fuck was I thinking last night? I shouldn’t have kissed him.
Girl, you shouldn’t have done a whole string of events. Let’s go over all the ways you’ve fucked yourself, sadly, not in the ways I’d like.
One, wrecked your car into his shop. Dumb move, but not entirely my fault.
Two, took him up on his offer to stay at his house. Should have had him take me to a hotel.
Three, fell in love overnight with his kids. I’m a sucker for little Southern girls.
And fourth, you slutty slut, you shouldn’t have fucking kissed him.
But… it was oh so worth it. I can’t even accurately describe this guy’s magnetic charisma. I feel completely comfortable around him, and strangely, as if to be in his presence gave me a sense of awe. Like it’s a privilege to know a hard-working man like Barron Grady. And I know that’s crazy talk, but this country boy—confident in an easygoing way, reclusive about his past and oh so sexy, broad-shouldered, and a dusting of dark hair on his jaw—I’m aching to know more.
The early morning sun shines through the vast windows overlooking the snowy fields behind his house. I’d be perfectly content never leaving his couch. Lie. I’d rather be in his bed. It’s early, and I know I haven’t slept much, but I can hear him in the kitchen by the heavy footsteps and the frequent “fuck” that falls from his lips when he bumps into something. Peeking my head up over the side of the couch, I watch him moving through the kitchen, a thermos in hand and a slice of toast hanging from his lips as he grabs his keys off the counter.
Fuck, I wish I was a piece of toast. I’m buttery and moist. Ewe. No, Kacy.
Spying on him going about his morning routine, I realize he’s just a kid himself. Not that I’m any better, but here he is, twenty-four-years-old and raising two kids on his own. Not the ideal situation for any of them, but they make it work together.
