Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

Willa: Hi, Lawyer friend. Can I ask for some legal advice?

Summer: Do you need me to come bail you out? Just send the address. I’m there.

Willa: Is it illegal to bang your hot boss?

Summer: Are we talking about your brother or Cade?

Willa: Fucking gross.

Summer: Dude. I’ve had to listen to you make hot dad jokes for years. Shooters gotta shoot.

Willa: I’m never coming to you for advice again.

Summer: My legal advice is to be very specific when you ask a question.

Willa: OK, FINE. Is it illegal to bang Cade?

Summer: You’d have to ask him. Haven’t seen him with a woman the entire time I’ve known him. Maybe he thinks it’s illegal?

Willa: He *is* a stickler for the rules. Maybe I’ll break them and see if he spanks me.

Summer: Fucking gross.

Once I hear the door click shut the next morning—so Cade doesn’t have to be scandalized by my nipples—I peek in through Luke’s slightly open door to see him sprawled wide in his bed, looking adorably exhausted.

Smiling to myself, I pad through the quiet house toward the kitchen. The sun is up, but barely, and the light in the house is blue. The birds sound so damn happy, trilling away outside. I can’t wait to sit on the front porch with my book and a hot cup of coffee.

I stop in my tracks when I get far enough into the kitchen to see that there is still a sizeable amount of coffee left in the pot.

As I draw closer, I see a Post-it note on the counter, written in a choppy scrawl.

Red,

The coffee is for you. Starting some two-year-olds today. If you feel like getting your back broken, meet me at the barn and you can sit on one.

– C

I snort. Oh, I feel like getting my back broken alright.

By him.

Not a horse.

He’s also left a mug beside the coffeemaker. I trail my fingers over the rounded handle, remembering the feel of him pressing in behind me as I reached for a cup the other morning. The feel of him pushing his hips into mine as we swayed in the kitchen.

I pour myself a cup, and it tastes better just because he made it. Just because he left everything out, knowing I was waiting for him to leave. Because he listened to what I told him.

Cade is the embodiment of actions speaking louder than words. He wasn’t about to fall all over himself apologizing for not making enough coffee for me. Instead, he just made more and left me a mug, knowing that it would make me feel good.

And a Post-it note addressed to Red.

Maybe I’m an idiot but it feels sweet. Coming from Cade, it is sweet.

The morning passes calmly until Lukeasaurus Rex wakes up and makes me run away from him like I’m terrified.

I feed him a suitable dinosaur breakfast, and then we head down to the barn to see what starting a two-year-old horse is like.

Or in my case, to check out Daddy Cowboy.

I park my Jeep near the main barn, and we follow the sounds of hooting and hollering to the other side, walking hand in hand.

“There he is!” Luke shouts, pointing at his dad.

My mouth dries out on the spot. I do show jumping—fancy white pants and horses imported from Europe—so while I know horses, cowboys are still a new ball game for me.

But goddamn. What a ballgame it is.

Cade sits on a dark horse, speckled with gray—a beautiful blue roan color with black mane and tail—which perfectly matches his black cowboy hat, signature bicep-hugging black T-shirt, and black leather chaps over worn jeans.

He’s seated comfortably in the saddle. Leather-gloved hands on the horn of his saddle, hip popped comfortably, with a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth and an amused smirk on his lips.

He’s so fucking hot.

He’s always been hot, but I wasn’t so sold on his personality. A shit personality can really ruin an otherwise hot dude, but there isn’t anything wrong with Cade’s personality. He’s just slow to warm up. A little chilly.

But I’m finding I like a lot about him. I’m finding he doesn’t make me feel chilly at all. He makes me feel hot and bothered.

“Dad!” Luke rushes forward, and Cade’s head flicks in his direction, that smirk morphing into a full-blown smile.

One that makes my heart stutter-step.

“Hey, bud.” He swings a leg over his horse and slides down just in time to catch Luke in his arms. The same greeting they do every night.

“When do I get my own horse?” Luke eyes the group of youngsters in the holding pen, glancing at the round pen where a cowboy sits on a horse doing its best to buck him off.

“When you actually take an interest in learning about them. They’re a serious commitment, and the only thing you’re committed to right now is dinosaurs.”

“I want Willa to give me riding lessons, not you,” Luke announces, hands on his hips.

Cade looks at me, rolling his eyes playfully. Is Luke a smidgen obsessed with me? Possibly.

“Hi, Red.”

I startle as the cowboy behind him gets turfed onto the metal fence panel. Other men sitting around have a good laugh at the guy, who spits on the ground and shakes his head. “Goddamn fucking asshole!” he exclaims.

“Gotta be smarter than the horse, Lee,” Cade calls. “And watch your fucking mouth. There’s a child and a city girl in our midst.”

“Sorry, boss.”

Luke giggles at the f-bombs flying left and right. And I feel it then. All eyes swivel in my direction, the men straightening or clearing their throats, like I’ve never heard a swear word in my life. Leave it to Cade to make me seem like some fragile princess.

I wave in their general direction and offer a friendly smile as I drawl, “Nice to fuckin’ meet y’all.”

Luke barks out a laugh. He’s so good for my confidence, always approving of my jokes. “Bad word, Willa!”

A couple of the guys press their lips together, trying not to show their amusement. Because if I can feel Cade’s scowl, no doubt, so can they.

“Nice to meet ya, city girl!” one guy calls from where he’s seated atop a fence, waving one dusty hand in my direction.

When one domino falls, so do the rest. Within seconds most of the guys are laughing and Cade is shaking his head at me.

He does that a lot where I’m concerned.

I wink at him. “Thank you for the coffee. I’m ready for you to break my back.”

His face pales, like he realizes how I could have interpreted his note. “I meant you could ride if you wanted to.”

“Oh, I want to.”

Heat flares on his cheeks. I shouldn’t prod the bear like this, but it’s just who I am. I like to watch him squirm.

“A horse. You can take mine.” He hikes a thumb over his shoulder.

“Nah, I think I’ll take one of the young ones.”

“No chance.” His jaw hardens.

“Why not?” I quirk a brow.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” He says it so simply, like it should be obvious to me.

“But I thought that’s what the note meant? Unless the note really meant . . .” I trail off and waggle my eyebrows at him.

“You’re insane.”

“I know,” I smile back brightly. “I’m a redhead. No takesies backsies, Eaton. A couple of hours ago you were fine with me getting on a youngster and now you’re not?”

“I changed my mind. My ranch. My rules. It’s possible you don’t ride all that well anyway. Plus, you need to be in one piece to take Luke to that kid’s birthday party today.”

I quirk a brow at him. Dick. Is he trying to bring out my competitive side? Leaning close, I whisper in his ear, “I dare you to let me sit on that one.” I point at the leggy youngster standing in the middle of the round pen, giving the foul-mouthed cowboy total stink eye.

“That one is rank. I’m pulling you something good-natured,” he says, walking away with his horse in hand, Luke following to see the others. Like his choice is final.

There must be at least ten horses in that pen, but it’s the sorrel horse in the round pen that has my attention. The one who chucked that cowboy good and hard.

I feel kindred with that one, and I didn’t wear my jeans and paddock boots in the middle of summer so I could stand around in the sun, sweating.

While Cade’s back is turned, I march in the opposite direction and duck under the fence post of the round pen. I feel eyes on me, but the men say nothing to stop me.

They must be smarter than Cade.

The little horse’s nostrils flare with each breath, wary eyes looking around a little. But honestly, I’m not worried. I ride well. I know I do. I haven’t been handed easy horses my entire life. I haven’t had grooms and trainers do the dirty work while I sat on the sidelines. I grew up with more money than most of the other girls at my barn, and yet I was always the one that had to work for things.

My dad often joked that none of the money was mine. It was his, and he wasn’t going to spoil me with it.

Both my parents value a good work ethic. Hard work and making something of yourself are what they value most. They never forced my brother or me into post-secondary educations. They followed our leads, and while I thought it was unfair at a younger age, I get it now. I get not bankrolling your children’s lives. I get not micromanaging their choices.

And I’m glad they haven’t. However, I’d have taken a little more pressure.

Maybe I wouldn’t be a directionless bartender if they had set more expectations. Who’s to say?

With that in mind, I take the reins and slide a hand over the young horse’s shoulder.

“Boss is gonna kill ya,” one cowboy mutters from the opposite side of the fence panel.

I just smile to myself.

No, he’s not. Cade Eaton is out of his depth with me.

I push my hand into the stirrup, shifting the saddle across the horse’s back, watching her ears flick back and forth. “Easy, baby,” I murmur.

Her head inclines toward me slightly, big round eye assessing me. I decide she likes me. I decide she’s smart.

These guys all think they’re tough and can outmuscle a horse, but they’re wrong.

I put my foot into the stirrup before pressing down, and she still doesn’t move.

“Red, don’t you fucking dare.”

I shake my head, but don’t look behind me at Cade. He’s only sort of my boss.

He doesn’t feel much like a boss lately. And I’m difficult to boss around at the best of times—ask my dickhead brother.

With one deep breath, I swing a leg over the filly’s narrow back, sinking gently into the saddle.

“Woman.”

I snort. Cade just womaned me. I want to laugh, but I can feel the horse’s back curled up beneath me.

She’s standing still—but not for long. She’s coiling all that energy to go straight up, so I open one rein wide, turning her head in toward my leg and give her a firm kick before she can bunch up any further.

Instantly, she’s hopping and kicking, but I squeeze my thighs and drop my heels, keeping her in a tight circle so she can’t explode.

“What a good baby,” I coo at her, even though she’s tossing herself around like a total fool. But not enough to loosen me off her. I refuse to fail in front of these guys. I especially refuse to fail in front of Cade.

He’ll be all annoying and I told you so about it and my ego honestly can’t handle that type of blow where he’s concerned.

I urge the filly forward, driving with my seat, to send that momentum ahead of us rather than up in the air. And in under a minute, she’s dropped the shenanigans and is cantering around the round pen.

It’s not pretty, but it’s not a bronc show either. I hear the hoots and hollers of the guys around me—the whistles and the “yeehaws”—but I keep her going, letting her tire herself out. Letting her run until she settles and drops her head.

It takes my all to not turn to Cade and stick my tongue out at him.

You’re twenty-five, you’re twenty-five, you’re twenty-five.

He turns me into an idiot. A bold, drooling, showboating idiot. He’s a challenge and look at me—I love a challenge.

Eventually the filly breaks to a trot, and then a walk, and I reach forward to run a hand up her sweaty neck.

“Not bad, city girl!” One of the guys calls out, and I peek up, grinning in his general direction, before hopping off.

“Better than any of you fuckin’ dress-up cowboys managed,” Cade bites out, seething from beneath his cowboy hat.

He looks pissed, and the flutter in my stomach at how imposing he is has me wishing he’d take some of that frustration out on me.

“I’m gonna ride like Willa when I grow up!” Luke has climbed up to the top panel of the fence and leans over, eyes glowing with excitement. “She made that filly her bitch!”

“Luke!” I say right as Cade barks, “Lucas Eaton.”

The little boy’s eyes widen as he drops off the fence, like he knows he’s stepped in it now. He takes off into the barn, tiny cowboy boots thumping against the dirt road, without a backward glance.

“You taught him that.” Cade points at me as I lead the filly over to one of the guys.

“Yeah?” I quirk a brow and head toward the man I started out not liking but who I now can’t stop thinking about.

Fantasizing about.

From my side of the fence, I lean close, dropping my voice. “I’m pretty sure of the two of us, you’re the one with the filthy mouth, Cade.”

His hand shoots between the metal panels, fingers hooking through my belt loop to hold me still. To keep me there, as he breathes down on to me. The whoosh of each exhale caresses my cheek. “You have no fuckin’ idea, Red.”

With one little tug on my jeans, he jostles me and then steps away, spinning one hand up above his shoulders and shouting at the guys. “Let’s go assholes. Break time is over. You’ve been shown up by a prissy city girl. Now prove to me I shouldn’t fire your useless asses.”

I snort. The man really has a poetic way with words.

As I scoot through the fence near the barn where I saw Luke run, one man exclaims toward my retreating form, “God fuckin’ damn. The view out here has never been so good.”

My lips quirk, and I turn to give him a wink, but with two easy steps Cade’s arm darts out and shoves him off the top of the fence where he’d been sitting. The cowboy lands on his knees with a loud bark of disbelieving laughter.

Cade’s not laughing though. “Eyes on the dirt if you plan to keep your job, cowboy.”

I just turn away and smile to myself, because Cade is seething. It’s almost like he’s jealous.

And I think I like that.