When We Met: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

by Shey Stahl

You’re right. I’m not. I’m the girl who used to work for your wife. “Regardless, I think I should go. It’s getting closer to Christmas, and I’m sure you want to spend it with your girls.”

  Blowing out a quick, defeated breath, he nods. “Right. Well, I’ll give you a ride. Camdyn?” he yells, searching the counter for where he left his keys. “Where are my keys?”

  “In the bathroom.”

  Groaning, he walks down the hall. “Why are they in there?”

  Camdyn looks up from the movie she and Sev are watching. “I don’t know. Go ask them.”

  “Smartass,” he mumbles, clearly annoyed.

  Behind me, I hear the door open.

  Morgan walks through the door holding a pizza box. “Where are my girls?”

  “Uncle Morgan!” they yell, barreling toward him. They cling to his legs, smiling. “Pizza!”

  Barron pats Morgan’s shoulder. “Have fun. They had ice cream on the way here.”

  “Dick,” he mumbles in passing. Sitting on the couch with them, he looks at the television. “What are we watching?”

  “Hocus Pocus.” Camdyn takes a piece of pizza from the box. “Sev picked it.”

  “Well, this isn’t going to work.” He takes the remote. “Let’s watch something else.”

  And to my surprise, they let him change the channel.

  I laugh and reach for my bag, unable to look at the girls. Am I really saying goodbye to them? No, I’ll be back. I just can’t stay here… right?

  God, what the fuck am I thinking?

  Barron nods to the door, his eyes anywhere but on mine. “Ready?”

  My throat hurts, the tightness crawling up. I notice Morgan watching us, but he doesn’t say anything as the girls crawl all over him. I want to say goodbye to them because this might be the last time I see them, but I can’t make myself go over there. Too afraid, I back up near the door, trying to slowly erase my presence in their life.

  Without another word, we leave. Five minutes into the drive, with the heater blasting warm air onto my face, I feel like any second I might burst into tears. What the fuck was I thinking? On all levels. Staying. Leaving. Lying. I don’t want to leave him. Or them. And I met them four fucking days ago. What kind of bullshit is this? Great, there’s the snorting hot sauce feeling again.

  I also can’t get over the anger pulsating from him. He’s annoyed with me, and that’s evident in the way he won’t look over at me as I try to make small talk with him. “Barron,” I say, easing into my apology, unsure if I’m going to tell him the truth or whatever it is I’m going to say next. Even I don’t know how this is going to play out.

  Before I can say anything else, he yanks the steering wheel to the right and down another dark ranch road. I have no idea where we are, but it certainly doesn’t look like a city or a hotel. Turning off the engine, he twists, and I feel warm hands meet my cheeks and slide to the nape of my neck. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice weak but sincere. “I never said you had to get a room. And I don’t want you to leave.” His brow comes together, his troubled face illuminated by the headlights of a distant big rig passing on the main road. And then comes the word, “Please,” whispered softly.

  As soon as those words leave his mouth, my strength is stolen from me, the air escaping from my lungs. Closing my eyes, I sigh. “I don’t want to,” I mumble into the silence, his truck rocking with the force of the steady wind and spray of snow hitting it. And then his lips come down on mine, gentle at first. They’re warm, but not as hot as his tongue that enters my mouth next, caressing mine. In the darkness, the seclusion we find ourselves in, so desperate for this newness we’re experiencing, it’s easy to believe our story isn’t doomed. That fate somehow had something to do with it.

  He reaches for me across the seat and wraps his arms around my waist at the same time he moves to the center of the bench seat, away from the steering wheel. “I don’t want you to leave,” he says again as I straddle him. He runs his hands down my side to my hips, eyes watchful.

  I smile. “I don’t want to either.”

  “Then don’t.” He angles my hips at the same time his lift, and I notice what’s between us. His very large erection. My grip on his shoulders tightens, an involuntary moan escaping my lips.

  I grind against him, unable to stop myself, and moan in his ear. Hell, I’m embarrassed at myself. Barron’s grip on me tightens, dragging me back and forth on him. The tightness of my jeans and the rub against my clit ring, my entire body trembles, my breath shaky.

  “You have a condom?” I ask in his ear, panting.

  “I uh…” He pants and then drops his head forward onto my shoulder. “Fuck. No. I don’t.”

  I don’t stop humping his erection like the needy bitch I am. “I’m on birth control.”

  He hesitates, for good reason. His jaw tightens, his eyes wild. He doesn’t move. “Kacy….”

  Of course. Why would I even think that was an option with his current situation. “Right. Stupid of me. Think there’s a gas station around?” I ask, thinking we could still do this if we could find a gas station.

  He shakes his head, palming my breasts and lifting his hips again when I stop moving. “Not one that’s open.”

  Immediately I’m filled with disappointment. We stare at one another, still moving our hips back and forth, unable to stop.

  “Fuck it,” he groans, frantically pushing my jacket off my shoulders. “I’ll pull out.” Without waiting for me to get it off, he starts trying to get my shirt off too. I catch up with his speed, wiggling out of my jacket and then shirt. Bra’s next, and when I’m naked from the waist up, he leans forward, peeling his own jacket away, eyeing my nipple rings. “Goddamn, these are fucking hot.”

  I smile. “That’s not my only piercing. I was a rebel child.”

  He takes a quick second to lick my right tit and suck my nipple ring into his mouth. I moan again when he tugs, my stomach tightens and a quick burst of pleasure right to my clit, burning with need. From my toes to the roots of my hair, need throbs inside me. My heartbeat crashes against my ribs, my palms against the seat behind him, rocking my hips back and forth on his cock I desperately want inside of me.

  “I need to see it all,” Barron demands after his shirt joins my clothes next to us, yanking me forward, kissing me hard. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admits, grunting and lifting his hips once more.

  “Then take your damn pants off,” I growl, breaking the connection our mouths have, trying to get my own off but also not wanting to stop kissing him.

  His mouth moves to my neck, his breath rough and needy. Before I can get mine off, he reaches inside them, his fingers finding my other piercing. “So fucking hot.” He groans and then rips his hand away just as fast. “As much as I’d love to give that some proper attention, I have to be inside you.”

  I lift up and scoot over to get my jeans off at the same time he pushes his down past his knees.

  That’s when I notice him, there, for the first time. Forget California. I’ll never not want the South. More importantly, his south because goddamn fucking damn. Thick, long, absolute perfection Inch by inch, I crave for him to be inside me.

  His gaze works its way to mine, and he smirks, his touch skirting along the curve of my breast. “You just gonna stare, or come back over here, darlin’?” To tease me, I assume, the thick Texas accent returns with a pair of dark, pleading eyes.

  My eyes close for a brief second, teeth digging into my lower lip. Am I going to jump off the cliff and fuck him because there’s no take-backs if I do? Jump, bitch. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I straddle him again. As he kisses me again, his hands grip my waist and he pulls me into him, our bare chests connecting. I can feel him there, his swollen head penetrating my lips, ready. He lifts his hips eagerly, but I resist. “Are you sure?”

  He snorts and tries to lift his hips higher, but I raise up. His jaw tightens as he growls out, “I’m not a fucking virgin.”

&n
bsp; My turn to snort. I pull back an inch, eyeing him carefully. Shadows dance across his face, making his expression indistinguishable. “I’m referring to the no condom.”

  He laughs. “I’m sure.”

  I stare at him, our eyes locked in silence as I ease down on him, his cock sliding inside me effortlessly. We gasp simultaneously.

  The second he’s fully sheathed inside me, his face is buried in the side of my neck, but he doesn’t move. Not an inch. Gripping me tightly, his body trembles. Slowly, we set a rhythm, but nothing is said between us. It’s not nearly enough. I want to throw my head back and ride the shit out of him, but I’m not sure what’s happening here.

  After a minute, his head hits the back of the seat, and he lifts his hips, slouching a little more. I pull back enough that my chest is within view. That’s when he loses his mind. Before I know it, I’m flat on my back on the bench seat, and his mouth is everywhere at once. My nipples, each one properly attended to while he has a handful of my hair and is pulling it.

  Let me tell you this. If you haven’t ridden a real cowboy, I feel fucking sorry for you. Roaming, caressing, straight-up fucking manhandling, this Texas boy shows me exactly why I craved the South. It’s almost animalistic.

  His mouth meets mine, needy, panting breaths filling the cab of his truck. “You are so fucking sexy,” he growls, slamming inside me again.

  A smile tugs at my lips, but I can’t reply. I can’t even catch my damn breath. Clawing at his shoulders, I wrap my legs around him tighter. Using one hand on the seat and the other on the top of my head to keep it from hitting the door, he thrusts deeper. He’s stopped kissing me, and he’s focused on my eyes. I fight the urge to say something stupid. Like I love him. Because that’s not possible. Right? Nope. It doesn’t look like that. I don’t even know this guy.

  But then again, my heart does. She’s desperate for me to make it last. She tells me to swallow my lies, wait, give it time and get to know him while my brain screams, Don’t do that.

  Too bad my pussy is in charge because she tells all them bitches to shut the fuck up.

  Grunting with each thrust, Barron pants. “Did you come?” There’s a smile on his face, remembering our conversation at the bar.

  I bite my lip, bringing my hands to the back of his neck, urging him to give me his weight. With my lips at his ear, I suck his earlobe into my mouth. “Almost,” I whisper, sliding one of my hands to his ass. “Harder.”

  And he provides. Until I arch my neck, trembling as my orgasm racks through me.

  “I can’t hold out any longer,” he practically whines, driving into me harder.

  “Don’t.”

  He sucks in a breath, his body tensing above me. His movements halt, but his kisses are so possessive and desperate it makes me sad. Because I want this forever.

  When his movements slow and finally seize, we lay there, wavering, waiting for the other to say something. His chest expands, a swallow following. I hear his breathing, the slow and steady rhythm, the rise and fall, and I can’t think of anything better than being here with him.

  He’s still inside me, but he’s finished. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say and I’m a little afraid to move after that. There’s a look that crosses his face, eyes widening slightly, and he glances between us where we’re still connected. Does he regret it?

  Pressing his palms into the seat, he rises, pulls out of me, and then sits on the driver side of the truck without a sound.

  He pulls his jeans up and into position, zipping them before he reaches for his shirt.

  I sit up, doing the same, and realize I have a mess. “Do you have a paper towel or anything?”

  Barron turns his head at the sound of my voice, his eyes between my legs. Swallowing, he opens the glove box and hands me a wad of napkins. Fighting through a wave of embarrassment, I clean myself up and pull my jeans back on.

  With both hands on the steering wheel, his body tenses, and then he looks over at me. “Don’t go,” he begs. “Stay with me until I have your car finished.”

  I nod, unable to resist him. Scooting closer, I cling to his side. “I’ll stay.”

  His lips press to my temple. “Thank you.”

  Because I’m not letting you leave. In a non-creepy stalker kind of way. Or am I?

  BARRON

  Finally.

  Fuck.

  I can’t even accurately describe what it was like finally being with Kacy either. Amazing. I’ll go with that. I thought I was going to go crazy if I didn’t fuck her soon, but more importantly, convince her to stay. Her leaving weighed heavy on me, and though I don’t know how long she’s staying, there’s an easiness about us on the drive back. I don’t miss the fact that I didn’t pull out. And I hope the hell she’s not lying about being on birth control; otherwise, I’m fucked.

  Jesus Christ. How could I have been so stupid?

  The snow’s coming down harder, sticking to the roads once again, but stupid or not, I can’t help but smile.

  Kacy notices. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I say, shrugging, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on her thigh as she sits next to me in the center seat.

  “Had you really not been with anyone since your wife?” she asks. We had this conversation last night, and I didn’t come out and say that I hadn’t been with anyone, but it was implied.

  “As you can see by being in my house, it’s not easy,” I point out. “And between work, the ranch, the girls, there’s not a lot of free time.”

  “Have you been on a date at least?”

  “I went out on a couple, but they never amounted to much.”

  “How long had you and your wife been together?”

  I hate talking about this. I don’t like talking about Tara in general, but to discuss it with Kacy makes me uneasy. As if she’s going to find out I’m hard to love. “Believe me, it’s not that interesting of a story.”

  She shrugs one shoulder, her eyes on the windshield and the falling snow. “I still want to know.”

  “We knew each other our entire lives. Once she got tits, I wanted to know more.”

  Kacy starts laughing. “Typical boy.”

  I force humor into my words. “Pretty much.”

  “So she got pregnant with Camdyn while you were still in high school?”

  I nod, turning onto the road leading into the ranch.

  “Do you regret it?”

  “Her or the girls?”

  “Having kids so young?”

  “I think I did when she left, but then I realized what a gift she gave me. I was young, dumb, selfish…. They changed all that for me. So no, I don’t regret it.”

  “And her?”

  “I can’t say I regret her either. Not in the sense that I still love her, or any bullshit like that.” I reach forward and angle the heat away from my face. “But she taught me a valuable lesson on love, that’s for sure.” I’m sure my tone is bitter, and you know, I still am. I can’t hide that part as much as I try.

  “What was the lesson?”

  “A realization that you can love someone and not be right for them.”

  Kacy turns her head and stares at me.

  I meet her gaze. “What?”

  “That’s… so true.”

  Keeping her close, I press my lips to the side of her head. “What are you running from?” I whisper, sensing her leaving California has more to do with just needing a change of scenery.

  “Everything.” Sighing, her body stiffens, her fingers mindlessly tracing circles on her thigh. “My whole life I’ve felt like that side character. The one never quite deserving of love, from my parents, lovers, anyone. I’ve never even had a best friend. My mom raised me as if I wasn’t good enough. Never pretty enough. Never skinny enough. And all that got me was befriending certain people in hopes I’d be a little closer to what she approved of.”

  I hate her mom. “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

  Her gaze lingers on the ranch coming into v
iew on our right. “No, I don’t think I will. There’s something about Texas that grabbed onto my heart. It’s like being hungry for something, and no one or no place can give you what you’re wanting.” I stop the truck at the entrance to the ranch and click the gate opener. Our eyes connect. “Until you stumble into it and find exactly what you’ve been looking for. And you’re afraid to lose what you’ve found, because every touch—” She pauses, reaching up to trace my jaw with her index finger. “—leaves you more hungry than the next because they’re just as eager for more as you are.”

  I kiss her, unable to keep from touching her. That’s when you know you’re fucked. When slow isn’t an option. Desperation is your only reaction. With Tara, that wasn’t the case. If I’m being honest, I saw the end before the words, “I’m falling out of love with you,” were uttered. I knew it was the end. The bloody, wounded, battered end.

  Now here I am, at the beginning of something I don’t understand, well aware that it might end just the same. I don’t believe it will because this girl beside me, I’d reach up and rip the stars from the sky if it meant she’d shine the way she does for me now forever.

  Back at the house, the girls are not asleep, and I’m disappointed. I had every intention of locking Kacy in my room and exploring her pierced clit properly.

  “I thought you were staying at a hotel,” Morgan says, smiling at us. When we don’t say anything, he waggles his eyebrows. “Have a nice time?”

  “Shut up. She’s staying.” I push him away and reach for a beer in the fridge. “Why are the girls still up?”

  “I got them bathed. And that was bullshit.” He gestures to his soaked shirt. “Bath time is like a water park for them.”

  “Which is why there’s a drain in that floor,” I remind him, running my hand through my hair. When we were building this house, he thought I’d lost my mind by putting a drain in the kid’s bathroom. Best building decision I ever made.

  “Ma’am,” Morgan whispers when Kacy walks by and into the kitchen, just to tease her. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “Knock that ma’am shit off.” Kacy smiles at him and reaches for the whiskey she’s been drinking the last couple of days. I have to admit I find it incredibly sexy she chooses whiskey over anything else. “We had an amazing drive in the snow.”