“Never met my dad, and my mom was… well, she was more interested in vodka than bedtime stories. My sister basically raised me while trying to grow up herself. She was barely a teenager, still trying to figure herself out, but she was the one making sure I ate, got to school, and kept me safe when no one else gave a damn.” The memories hit me—cold leftovers for dinner, eviction notices piling up, the way Violet would stay with me at night until I fell asleep. “Then I went to college, and Violet moved out here. I followed after graduation. So yeah, it’s just us.” He doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He just waits and listens in a way that makes me feel like every word I say actually matters. “What about you? Your parents—were they good ones?”
“The best,” he says. “Although we lost my mom when I was almost fifteen, so I’ve had to go through most of my life without her.”
“I’m so sorry, that must have been… I can’t imagine.”
“Colton had it worse. He never had a single day with her. Think she held him for maybe ten minutes before we lost her.” I swear I feel my heart crack right down the middle.
“Pops did his best to make up for what we lost. Made sure we had what we needed, tried to keep us busy, and worked us all hard enough so we didn’t have time to miss what we didn’t have.” His fingers tracegentle patterns along my wrist, like he’s soothing himself as much as he’s soothing me. “He passed away four years ago, but he was ready. Ready to see my mom again. It was like the years without her just… drained him.” I turn my face toward him, and his eyes land on mine, but before I can even think about what to say, he leans in and gently kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s why we spend Christmas at Callan’s. So that everyone who’s missing someone can all be together.”
“Well, maybe I’ll make my sister’s life easier and tell her to skip cooking this year.”
“You’d both be more than welcome.”
“I’ll mention it to Violet.” I let my fingers wander across his chest, enjoying the way his muscles relax under my touch. “It might be too soon, though. First Christmas without Dillon is bound to hit hard.”
“Callan said they ended things without too much bloodshed.”
“Yeah, but Violet and awkward situations?” I snort, shaking my head. “Let’s just say her mouth runs faster than her brain filter.”
“I’ve seen her and Cal square off a few times, and she’s never let him get away with a damn thing.”
“That’s because she’s fiery as hell.” I nestle further into him, inhaling his scent and soaking up his warmth.
“Those two need to either throw hands or fuck it out already. Preferably the second option—the bar’s too nice to wreck.”
“Oh, there’s some unresolved tension there for sure.” I laugh, my palm flattening against his chest as his chuckle vibrates through me.
“Speaking of tension…” He pushes himself up, settling at the edge of the bed, and I follow, my legs twisted in the rumpled sheets. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow. I need to grab a shower and get some sleep.”
“Oh, right, of course.” I gesture vaguely over my shoulder, suddenly feeling like that post-sex confidence is slipping away. “I should probably…”
His hand locks around my wrist as I try to bolt, and his voice lowers, turning my spine to liquid.
“You should probably what? Go back to the bed you were sharing with my son. Not a fucking chance, darlin’.”Oh god, I’m a puddle for this man.“I want your pretty ass in my shower. Gonna soap you up realslow, then fuck you hard enough to make that pussy sing for me again. After that, you’re in my bed until you leave this farm.”
If this is how I go out—fucked stupid by a cowboy—just toss my satisfied corpse down the slope.Maybe leave a large sign that says, “R.I.P. to this horny little slut. Death by Multiple Orgasms thanks to the best cowboy dick around.”
Chapter 17
Christian
Here I am,arms flung wide open, practically begging hell to claim me.
Every filthy thing I’ve done to Piper in the last forty-eight hours has carved my name into the devil’s guest list, and fuck if I’m not ready to sign that contract in blood.
If life were simple, then what I’m doing with Piper would be unforgivable. Making your son’s ex-girlfriend scream your name twenty-four hours after their breakup? Yeah, that’s the kind of shit you don’t come back from. But life isn’t a clean-cut story of right and wrong. It’s messy and complicated and painted in every shade of gray you can imagine, and the truth is, I’m not prepared to slam the brakes on whatever path of destruction I’m racing down.
All my life, I’ve tried to build something with Travis. I’ve tried to be the father he could count on even when he made it damn near impossible. But he’s a grown man now, putting his hands on women and carrying around this hatred he won’t explain. It’s buried so deep in his bones that I don’t think he’ll ever let me be a real father to him.And after what I’ve done with Piper, I might as well take a match to whatever tattered connection we had left. He’s never going to forgive me, and the messed-up part is that I can’t bring myself to regret it becauseregretting Piper would mean denying the first thing that’s made me feel alive in years.
Blood or not, Travis sees me as nothing more than an inconvenience—a stubborn bastard he keeps around because he knows I’ve got no one else to leave this place to. And with Colton and Callan both kid-free, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I could hand the farm to my brothers, but then they’d be in the same position if kids aren’t in their future.
I’m done with that chapter of my life.
The first round of fatherhood left enough scars to last a lifetime.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Travis the way you’re supposed to love your kid, but I can’t stomach the way he treats people, or how he’s turned into a carbon copy of his mother. They’re both toxic as hell, and no amount of wishful thinking is going to change that.
Still, I keep trying. It’s why I drag him up here every December, hoping the mountain air and honest work might trigger even the tiniest spark of pride in this place and maybe help him find the love for it I’d always hoped he’d inherit from me. But it never does. He’d always rather be anywhere else, leaving me to distract myself by throwing everything I have into the work.
