Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

“Who was he?” Summer’s voice is strangled.

“Not a damn clue.” I think back on my black underwear plunking down on the floor and how mortification slowly morphed into hysterics.

Only me.

Things like that would only happen to me.

My best friend gasps, rocking forward on the porch swing. “You didn’t take them back?”

I smirk and take a sip of my beer. “No. He looked so . . . I don’t know. Stunned? Like not offended, but not pervy about it either. It was kind of adorable. I feel like I freed a house-elf or something.”

“Did he resemble Dobby?”

I groan and waggle my brows at her suggestively. “If Dobby was hot.”

“Willa, that’s nasty.” She wheezes. “Please tell me they were clean.”

“Of course. They’re my spares. You know I don’t like wearing panties. But now and then, the need arises, you know?”

Summer narrows her gaze in my direction. “I have that need every day.”

“To be uncomfortable? No thanks. Life is too short. Bras and underwear are overrated. Plus, now I can lay awake at night and wonder what some rando is doing with them.”

Summer just laughs again. “He probably threw them out like any sane person would.” She’s so happy these days. Since she left her strained family and overperforming city life. She met a bull rider and ran off into the sunset and now here she is. My best friend. All smiles and freckles and curled up on a porch swing in front of a beautiful, custom-built rancher that faces out over the Rocky Mountains.

Nothing has ever looked better on her.

I like to bug her about living in the middle of “buttfuck nowhere” but the truth is the view out near Chestnut Springs is breathtaking. Prairie land so flat it almost seems impossible. Dark, craggy mountains rising like a tidal wave, heading right for you.

In the city, we can see the mountains, but not like this. Not like you could reach out and touch them.

“So, what are you going to do about the next several months?”

I sigh. I have no idea. But I also don’t want Summer worrying about me. It’s kind of her thing. She’ll get all worried, and then she’ll try to fix things for me when I’d just rather go with the flow.

“Maybe I’ll come live with you and Rhett for a while?” I say innocently, glancing around. “The house is so nice now that it’s finished. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

She rolls her lips together like she’s really thinking about it. Goddamn, this woman has a heart of gold.

“Sum, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.” Huffing out a ragged sigh, I gaze out over the fields. “I don’t know. When Ford told me he was going to shut down the bar for renovations, I was honestly excited. I figured I’d spend the summer traveling from horse show to horse show and blowing through all my savings. Avoiding coming up with a plan for my life and just being a twenty-five-year-old with nothing except family money going for her.”

She tries to interrupt me. She doesn’t like it when I’m hard on myself about managing my super successful brother’s bar. Or tagging along on my super successful parents’ vacations. Or just stumbling through life with zero sense of direction in a family full of overachievers.

I ignore her protests and continue. “But of course my horse had to go ruin all my plans and injure himself just in time for show season. Tux needed surgery and now I’ll just spend my summer feeding him carrots and obsessively brushing him.”

My best friend just stares at me. I want to reach into her brain and pluck out her thoughts because I know she’s chock-full of them.

“I’ll be good. It’s a first world problem. I’ll visit you a bunch. You can brutalize me at your gym, and I’ll pick up the odd hockey player or bull rider. Win-win-win.”

“Right . . .” Her pointer finger taps against her top lip. “What if—”

“Oh no. Please don’t do the thing where you make it your job to fix my life. You help people too much, you know that?”

“Willa, shut up and listen to me.”

I press my ass back against the porch railing facing her and reach for the bottle of beer beside me. It’s dripping condensation down the side, and the liquid inside isn’t even that cold anymore. It’s only June and already unseasonably hot. Jeans were a mistake.

Taking a big pull, I roll my shoulders back. Ready to be scolded.

“What if I had a way for you to live out here for the summer? But not with Rhett and me.”

That is not what I was expecting her to say.

“I don’t want to camp in your yard. I’m not cut out for sleeping outdoors. I may not know what my path in life is yet, but I promise it doesn’t include air mattresses and sleeping bags.”

She rolls her eyes and forges ahead. “No. Rhett’s older brother needs help with his son for the months between school. The woman who took care of him when he was little can’t keep up anymore. He’s five.”

I stare at my friend, beer bottle swinging back and forth between my fingers. “You want me to take care of a child?”

“Yeah. You’re fun. And high energy. And if you can handle a bar full of drunk guys, then what’s one little boy who needs entertaining? You like kids, you always say you do.”

I mull the idea over in my head. My first inclination is to say no, but truthfully, I’m dreading these months without work, or competing, or my best friend. I’ve always liked kids, possibly because I still feel a bit like one sometimes.

“And where would I live?”

Her eyes widen just a little and her throat works as she swallows. “With his brother, Cade. He runs the ranch. His mornings are early and sometimes his nights are late if something goes wrong. But he’s got a good crew hired on the ranch to offset his hours. Their dad likes to help with Luke, but honestly, he’s not cut out for twelve-hour days either. But he’d tag you out pretty often, I’m sure.”

“You look scared? Is this the dick brother or the funny, hot, superhero brother?” I almost feel bad asking because I haven’t been great about coming out here and visiting Summer. We often just meet in town rather than driving the extra twenty minutes out to Wishing Well Ranch. I should probably have met all the members of her future family by now, but I haven’t.

“The dick brother.”

“Of course it is.” I drink again.

She jumps in quickly. “But you won’t see him that much! He specifically doesn’t want someone who will, um . . . get in his way? Plus, Rhett and I will be around. It could be fun.”

When she puts it like that, it does sound kind of fun. More fun than spending the best months of the year in the city alone.

“Can we do boozy brunches?” We always did boozy brunches when we were both living in the city, and I want them back.

Her lips twitch. “Yes.”

I toss back the rest of my beer, already knowing what my answer is going to be. I’ve gone with the flow my entire life. Opportunities pop up and I stumble into them. This feels like another one of those.

Who am I to say no?

“Well then, fuck it. I’m in.”

We drive across the farm and pull up in front of the most picturesque red house with white trim. Little hedges rim the yard, and a white gate opens to a dirt path leading to the front door.

I’m instantly charmed.

“I get to live here?” I ask as we climb out of her SUV, unable to tear my eyes from the adorable, perfectly manicured house.

“Yeah.” Summer carries on, missing the part where I’m beyond charmed by the whole vibe out here. “I think his hours are so variable that it makes sense. Before we were tag teaming it with his dad and Mrs. Hill but waking up and getting over here at 4:30 a.m. is just too much for them. Cade doesn’t enjoy asking them to do it, but if you’re living here, you can just keep sleeping and then Luke won’t be alone in the house.”

Summer saunters up to the front door without a care in the world, and I trail behind, wondering what the hell I’ve actually signed myself up for.

I don’t know shit about taking care of kids.

Or parenting.

Or ranching.

My steps falter as I fall behind, but Summer doesn’t notice. She marches up the couple of steps in her flip-flops and cutoff jeans to the front porch, lifts the knocker, and bangs hard.

“Hey, Sum—” I start, reaching out with a hand as though I can stop her when she’s already knocked. Thinking that we should talk this through more thoroughly. Hammer out some details.

Maybe my impulsiveness has gotten me in over my head for once. I almost feel like she’s rushing. Like she can’t wait to wrap this up. And I have questions.

Lots of questions.

But they all evaporate from my mind the minute the front door swings open, and I’m left standing stupidly in the middle of the dirt walkway, gawking at the man from the coffee shop.

The one I left my panties with.

He’s still all man, from head to toe. Dark hair, darker eyes under furrowed brows, broad shoulders, the sexiest scruff surrounding a slightly curled lip . . . and a scowl.

He stares in my direction while his knuckles turn white where he grips the door.

“Cade!” Summer starts in, oblivious to the death glare he’s pinning me with. “This is my best friend, Willa. Your new nanny.”

“No,” is his only reply.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, over my dead body.” Condescension drips from his words.

Her head quirks to the side, and I close the space between us. If he thinks he’s going to talk to my best friend that way, he’s got another thing coming. I’ve had her back since we were teenagers. Summer’s endured enough shitty men in her life, so this one can fuck all the way off.

“Cade, don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been trying to find someone for—”

He cuts her off. “You’re being ridicu—”

I step onto the porch, seeing red. No one else in my family has red hair, and I don’t know if it’s to blame for my fiery side, but I have been known to fly off the handle and hold a hell of a grudge.

I’ve been known to break up bar fights with a bat.

And maybe I’m about to be known for kicking a hot-as-hell rancher in the balls.

I wave a hand right in front of him to shut him up. “Choose your next words carefully. I don’t care if she’s about to be your sister-in-law. No one speaks to her with that tone, period.”

He turns his dark gaze on me now, eyes starting on my face before trailing down my body in the most critical and unnerving way. When his eyes come back up, the look in them is perfectly flat.

Like he’s sized me up and found me entirely lacking.

“And I don’t care if you’re her best friend. You smell like beer and your panties are still in my back pocket. You’re not taking care of my son.”

My eyes narrow, and my lips curve up at his misstep. “You saving them for later?”

I wink at him, watching fiery red splotches crop up on the apples of his cheeks and seep out across the immaculate bone structure hidden beneath that beard and scowl.

Summer spins on me, chocolate eyes wide as saucers. She resembles one of those squishy-faced dogs whose eyes are constantly bugging out in the most adorable way. “Cade is the panty guy?”

“I’m not the panty guy,” he interjects, but Summer and I ignore him.

“Yeah. And you said that any sane man would have thrown them out. So you know what that means.”

We’re grinning at each other like crazy people now, and before I know it, a giggle slips from between Summer’s lips. And before long, she’s doubled over, hands on her knees, gasping for air.

“For fuck’s sake.” The grump runs a broad hand through his hair in frustration. “I am not the panty guy.”

Laughter shakes my shoulders, and my eyes water as I mumble, “What are the chances?”

“This is a small town. The chances are rather good,” Cade grits out, not nearly as amused as us.

Summer practically howls as she straightens and swipes at her eyes. “Don’t worry, Cade. They’re clean.”

His nostrils flare, and his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a deep breath. Like that might bring him some sort of peace.

“Panty Guy.” I shake my head and grin at him. Nanny or not, I’ll be spending time around this man for the rest of my life with Summer being married to his brother, so I might as well smooth things out.

“He’s not a panty guy! He wears boxers!” A small voice echoes from the hallway as the most adorable dark-haired, blue-eyed little boy comes blasting into view. “Those tight ones though,” he clarifies, adding insult to injury.

“Yeah,” I deadpan to the little boy who’s now wedged himself under his dad’s arm. Big eyes regard me with keen interest. “Can’t have any chafing.”

“What’s chafing?” he asks curiously, as his dad holds one broad, tanned hand up to his eyebrows and rubs at them.

“Luke.”

“Like when all your junk rubs together,” I explain.

You don’t grow up around my parents and act shy about this stuff. Nothing is off the table in our family.

“Oh yeah,” he nods, appearing wise beyond his years. “I hate it when that happens.”

“Luke, back in your room.” Cade’s broad form has turned to face his son, and I can’t help but admire him. The strength he exudes. The ripple in his forearms. The way his Adam’s apple bobs. The way his eyes soften as he stares down at his son.

That’s the real kicker.

“Why?” This kid has his number though. Sapphire eyes widen almost dramatically, and his bottom lip pushes out ever so slightly. “I wanna go play with Summer and her friend.”

He’s precious.

“No,” his dad says, right as I say, “Sure!”

Cade’s head snaps around, brows harsh slashes across his forehead, the lines there furrowed as though I’ve done something to personally offend him.

“Cade.” Summer props her hands on her hips. “Just let him come hang out for a bit. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

My eyes bounce between the two of them. Summer, all pint-sized and sweet, Cade, all big and growly.

“Please, Dad?” When Luke’s sugary-sweet voice speaks, he doesn’t look so growly. He looks more . . . resigned. Tired somehow?

Cade spins on me. “How old are you?”

I straighten, refusing to cower under his piercing gaze. “Twenty-five.”

His throat works as he assesses me again. “Do you have a criminal record?”

“Not a substantial one,” I reply honestly. I got caught with pot once before they legalized it. Sue me for being a fun teenager.

“Jesus Christ.” One thick hand runs through his closely cropped hair as he shakes his head.

“Do you have a criminal record?” I cross my arms and arch an eyebrow back at him. If this is the brother I think it is, the one Summer has told me about, then I’m almost positive he’s not some walking, talking angel. And I’ll be the one stuck living with him.

He stares at me. Hard. It feels like it lasts forever. Summer looks between us, and from the corner of my eye I see Luke peer up at his dad and tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can I go play now?”

“Fine.” Cade glares at me when he says it. “But Summer is in charge.”

The little boy squeals and launches off the front porch.

And I just glare back at his dad.