Wild Rugged Daddy_A Single Daddy Mountain Man Romance

by Sienna Parks

  There is no shortage of pictures of my dad with other women. He didn’t hide his affairs, in fact, I think he encouraged the media attention. My mother’s reluctance to step into the spotlight at his side sowed seeds of bitterness that came to fruition in my teenage years. They did not attempt to shield me from the fallout, and I often probed my mom as to why she would let herself be treated so badly. Her answer was always short and concise—Your father saved me from a life I despised. He is tolerable in comparison. My quest is to understand her words. What was so bad that she would rather have married my dad and sat idly by as he broke his vows to her time and time again?

  I’m not sure what my therapist would say about my recent dalliance with Jax. Well, that’s not strictly true—I know what she’d say. She’d point out there’s a correlation of behavior between Jax and my father. There would be citations of ‘daddy issues’ and questions of wanting what you know is wrong… but it felt so good.

  I’ve decided to rent an apartment rather than stay at the B&B, but it’s harder than you think in a small town. I figure I may as well make myself at home for a while. I have too many unanswered questions, and I require a level of privacy that the B&B can’t provide.

  Today, I’m going to kill two birds with one stone. Ida Hawthorne has a small cottage to rent, and while I check it out, I’m hoping to investigate pieces of my family puzzle. I’ve confirmed my suspicions regarding my mom, and so many things make sense to me now as I look back over my life. I haven’t told my dad that I’m in Kingsbury Falls, but I need something to go on in my efforts to figure out how he’s connected to all of this.

  For some reason, my stomach starts churning as I listen to the ominous ringtone waiting for him to answer.

  “Sweetheart. How are you?”

  “Hi, Daddy. I’m good. Just looking through some of Mom’s old stuff.” I can feel his eyes rolling on the other end of the line.

  “Why must you torture yourself? Pouring over every detail of her life won’t bring her back.”

  “I know that. I just want to understand where she came from. I found some papers about a place called Kingsbury Falls. Have you heard of it?” There’s a prolonged silence.

  “Don’t go dredging up the past, Savannah. It brings nothing but trouble.”

  “What’s so terrible about a small town in Texas?”

  “I didn’t give you your mother’s things so that you could play Columbo. Stop snooping around. I mean it. Nothing good comes from that town. Promise me.” His reaction tells me what I need to know—he’s hiding something.

  “Why are there no records of you before the year I was born? Are you in witness protection or something? Did something bad happen in Kingsbury Falls?” I’m like a dog with a bone. I can’t let this go. My mother had so many secrets, and now I realize she wasn’t the only one.

  “Savannah, listen to me and listen well. Do. Not. Pursue. This.”

  “Yes, sir.” It’s been a long time since my dad’s voice sparked fear inside me.

  “I need to get to a meeting. Promise me you’ll let this go.”

  “Okay.” I can’t make a promise I have no intention of keeping. In fact, his words of warning have had the opposite effect. I’m more determined than ever to figure out what he’s hiding and why.

  I grab my keys with renewed determination.

  “I love it.” Ida’s cottage is the perfect place for me. It’s close to the ranch but affords me some privacy from Jax and Maddox. “When can I move in?”

  “Today. It’s just sitting empty.”

  “Great!”

  I can see her twitching—itching to ask. “I thought you weren’t staying long?”

  “Change of plans.”

  “A happy turn of events for us.”

  “I hope so.”

  She follows me around itching to probe me further. “I hear you’ve been spending time with the McKinney boy.”

  Her disdain for Jax irks me. Who is she to judge him?

  “He’s been very welcoming.”

  “I’m sure he has,” she tuts under her breath.

  “Excuse me?” I can’t let it slide.

  “Nothing, dear. Just be careful with young Jackson. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. That boy is the reason they invented the saying, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free, if you know what I mean.” I’m beginning to understand what he puts up with from the people of this town, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “Well, I guess we will agree to disagree, Mrs. Hawthorne. Jackson has always been sweet and kind to me, and I like to base my opinions of people on experience rather than speculation.” Her face reddens—a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Normally, I wouldn’t dare speak to my elders in such a way, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her run her mouth off about Jax in front of me.

  “Have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

  “Duly noted.”

  I spent the rest of the morning organizing the lease and arranging a transfer of funds for first and last month’s rent. When we’ve crossed the ‘I’s and dotted the ‘T’s, Ida hands over the keys with reticence. She’s stewing over our earlier discussion, and I know I’ll be the talk of the diner tomorrow morning when she meets the coven for tea and their daily helping of town gossip.

  In my haste to finish my dealings with Ida, I forgot to ask her if she’d ever heard of my dad’s family. If anyone knows, it’ll be her. I’m not sure she’ll be as forthcoming after my comments regarding Jax. I’ll need to get back on her good side if I want to probe further.

  When I searched the archives, I didn’t find a record of any Adams living here, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t. They could have passed through or lived here at some point between censuses. The possibilities are endless which is why I’m disheartened. I pull out my phone and type a quick message.

  Me: Busy later?

  Jax: What do you have in mind?

  Me: Dinner at my place.

  Jax: The B&B?

  Me: Nope! 482 Pear St. 7:00 p.m. Be there.

  Jax: With bells on, darlin’.

  Every time I’m around him, and even when I’m not, he manages to make me smile. I’ve never met anyone quite like Jackson. He’s a riddle wrapped in an enigma. Maybe I’m a dumb city girl who can’t see what’s right in front of my face, but the man I’ve been spending time with recently isn’t the same Lothario the people of this town describe.

  With a spring in my step, I set about packing my suitcase and leaving the floral walls of the B&B behind. I have a busy afternoon ahead of me. I’m going to cook for Jax and forget about everything else for one night—my mom, my dad, this town, and all its secrets. Tonight, my focus is only on Jax.

  These past few weeks with him have been a mixture of exciting and enlightening. He’s the manliest guy I’ve ever met. Maybe that sounds silly, but it’s true. The guys I grew up with wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow when it comes to getting their hands dirty and doing any form of manual labor. I could spend a day just watching Jackson out in the fields at the ranch. His grass-stained jeans and dirt-streaked white t-shirt drive me wild. It’s the city girl in me.

  I’ve been riding horses since I was six years old, and I’ve never seen anyone tame a mustang. Having such a majestic animal under your control is exhilarating, but ultimately you need to respect their power. If a horse wants to buck and trample me, there’s very little I can do about it. When I respect a well-trained horse, it reciprocates. Jax does something else entirely. He communicates with a wild horse—his touch and body language earning its trust. He exerts his dominance, and it’s sexy as hell.

  With my small bag unpacked and the refrigerator stocked, I set about making something delicious for dinner, but it doesn’t quite go according to plan. I left the pans simmering to go and change into something other than shorts and a tank, but I got sidetracked—shaving my legs, fixing my makeup, and trying to get my hair under control in this heat. It’s not until the smoke
alarm starts sounding that I remember I left the stove on. Of course, Jax arrives on time like a good Southern gentleman but comes bursting through the front door when he sees smoke billowing out the kitchen windows.

  “Savannah! Are you here?” He appears through the thick black smoke and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I am beyond mortified when he sets me down outside—a sweaty hot mess. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I… I forgot about dinner. I was freshening up, and… I got distracted. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

  “Wait here.” He ducks inside shielding his face from inhaling the smoke. My neighbors come out to see what’s going on, and I know I’ll be the talk of the town by tomorrow morning. What a great way to introduce myself.

  If they weren’t shocked by the smoke and chaos, they are when Jax comes strolling out with my burned offerings! “What were you trying to make? I can’t tell from this charcoal.” A throaty chuckle escapes his lips, and my heart sinks. I wanted to wow him with my culinary skills, and instead, we’re reenacting scenes from Backdraft.

  “Oh my God! I was trying to make a Moroccan lamb tagine.”

  “A Mohican tangerine what now?”

  “I saw it on Master Chef. I wanted to impress you.”

  “Well, you sure have made an impression, darlin’.” With a sly wink and a smile, he turns his attention to the amassing crowd of onlookers.

  “Mind your business, people! Don’t be acting as if you’ve never seen a burned dinner or two in your time. Nothing to see here.” Like scolded children they scamper back to their homes—all but one. “Miss Noemi… don’t make me come over there and spank you. Go on now!” This man’s charm is boundless. The seemingly tight-laced woman can’t resist a sassy retort.

  “Promises, promises, Jackson McKinney.” She disappears inside with a sway in her hips and a backward glance. “If I were thirty years younger!”

  “You’re breaking my heart, woman.”

  He’s the embodiment of a beloved bad boy. The women of this town would warn you to keep your distance from him until they were blue in the face, but not one of them is impervious to his charm. He has it in spades and knows how to use it to his advantage.

  “You have the ladies of Kingsbury Falls wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” His laughter fills the air.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know it. Those ridiculous dimples and your chiseled man jaw… women don’t stand a chance.”

  “Man jaw?” I shove him and head back toward the door.

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I have ridiculous dimples? Is that good or bad?”

  “Stop fishing for compliments.” As the smoke clears and the alarm stops its incessant beeping, Jax dumps what’s left of my dish into the trash.

  “Why don’t I take you out for something to eat? It’s probably safer for the town if you don’t try your hand at cooking anything else.”

  “I can’t show my face around here!”

  “Well, maybe not right now, but I’ll wait ten minutes.”

  “What?” I run to the mirror to see my mascara melting down my cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me I look like a Salvador Dali painting?”

  “I just did.” If the ground could open and swallow me right now, I’d be a happy woman. This date can’t get any worse. I leave Jax with the stench of burned lamb and disappear upstairs to fix my face. There needs to be a new word to describe my embarrassment. I wanted tonight to be perfect. I was hoping tonight would be the night he and I… make the beast with two backs. I had it all planned—dinner, wine, music, and candles.

  Taking a deep breath, I head downstairs to find Jax cleaning my kitchen and spraying air freshener to get rid of the pungent burning smell.

  “Wow! You look smokin’ hot.”

  “Ha ha! Let’s get out of here.” He grabs me around the waist pulling me close before claiming my lips in a kiss so fierce I can’t form a coherent sentence. “Mmm… hot… you… tingling.” With a mischievous grin, he grinds his hips against me letting me know how affected he is.

  “We better go eat. Otherwise, I’m not going to be able to live up to these Southern manners of mine. I’m trying here, but I want to fuck you so hard.” A flurry of lightning bugs awakens in the pit of my stomach.

  “I think I like the dirty-talking country boy.” I slide my hands down his back cupping his ass to pull him tighter. “Why don’t we skip dinner and go straight for dessert?” He backs me into the hallway, our lips exploring as I reach for his pants.

  “Slow down, Savannah. I need pants when I’m out in public.”

  “Aren’t we going upstairs?”

  “Walk with me.” He takes my hand and leads me out into the warm night air.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere with lots of people. Lots and lots of people.”

  “Why? Did I do something wrong… other than almost kill you with smoke inhalation and scare you with zombie-girl makeup?” He drapes his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to his side in the fading sunlight.

  “Now why would you think you did anything wrong?”

  “Because you have a reputation. If you don’t want to have sex, it’s something about me.” That sounded bad and not how I intended it to come out.

  “I’m sorry I’m not living up to my stellar reputation. If I’d known you just wanted me to fuck and chuck you, all you had to do was ask, Savannah.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m nervous. You make me nervous. I don’t want to mess this up.” He stops in front of me cupping my face in his palms.

  “Darlin’, you have nothing to feel nervous about. I’m the one that’s worried about messing up. I know I have a bad reputation, but I feel like I have a chance at a fresh start with you. So, can we take it slow? Not for your sake, but for mine?” He seals his request with a chaste kiss.

  “I’d like that.”

  We walk hand in hand through town in companionable silence—a renewed excitement and anticipation sparking between us. Jackson surprises me at every turn, and right now, positive revelations are hard to come by.

  Dinner is an interesting mix of an intimate date and a sideshow for the residents of Kingsbury Falls. Hearing about someone’s past is altogether different than witnessing the judgmental aftermath firsthand, but Jackson takes everything in his stride.

  “Ignore them, darlin’. I learned a long time ago that people like to think the worst. It fuels their sad little rumor mill.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of it? Or think about leaving and starting over somewhere else?” He reaches across the table tracing circles on the back of my hand.

  “Is that an offer?”

  “That’s not a real answer. Diversion tactics with dimples aren’t going to work on me.” I’m rewarded with a raspy laugh, and all I want to do is sink to my knees and turn that rasp into a roar.

  “I think about it all the time. I’ve never told anyone this, but I wanted to be a vet. Stupid, right?”

  “Not at all. Why didn’t you?”

  “I kept making excuses. Everyone had such low expectations of me, after a while I started to believe them. Then, Bobby Hale asked me to work on the ranch, and the rest is history, I guess.”

  “You could still go to college if you wanted.”

  “That ship has sailed, but thank you for not laughing at the idea.” I look around this close-knit community, and all I have is contempt. It’s hard to remain silent when my instincts want to stand up and fight for the Jackson I know. The sweet, kind, sexy country boy who wants to woo and respect me. I want to protect what is blossoming between us, so I’m done caring about keeping a low profile. Standing from the table, I walk around and kneel in front of Jax taking his face in my palms.

  “I believe in you, Jackson McKinney. You’re capable of anything. You tame wild horses… do you have any idea how amazing that is? I will never laugh at you for having hopes and dreams.�
� He pulls me up into his lap before fisting his hands in my hair capturing my lips in unashamed adoration. I’m overwhelmed with emotion and oblivious to our audience. He nibbles at my lips and bites his way up to my ear, his breathing erratic as he speaks.

  “You rock my world, Savannah Adams.” And just like that, he rocks my world.

  JAX

  Satan’s sauna is cooler than Texas. Days like these are when working the ranch feels like penance for a previous life—hellfire’s chain gang. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the sun beats down with unrelenting intensity. The horses are irritable, and so am I. In every other way, life is good.

  Maddox and I have been discussing ways to expand the ranch—A.B. suggested some sort of horse and grief therapy for disabled or disadvantaged kids and adults. It’s medically recognized as a valuable source of treatment for children and adults. Savannah mentioned that she helped with a similar program at her riding school back in Chicago. She’s coming over today to give us some pointers and looking into the logistics of setting up something like this.

  “Tell me that ridiculous grin on your face is because you didn’t get kicked in the balls by that mustang.” Maddox is in fine form today.

  “I’m allowed to smile because my girlfriend is taking an interest in the ranch.”

  “Wow! I’ve known you for thirty-three years, and I’ve never heard you say the word girlfriend before. Not unless it was connected to a brush-off you were issuing some unsuspecting one-night stand.”

  “Seriously? Is it out of the realm of possibility that a guy can change?”

  “I’m just not convinced! Sorry. This girl is stringing you along with the promise of sex. You’ve never had to work for it before. It’s a novelty.”

  “That’s not it.” His eye-rolling irks me.

  “Time will tell.”

  “But you’re happy to bleed her dry to get the therapy school up and running?” He has the audacity to look surprised.

  “Low blow. I’m giving her a chance to get to know us. That’s what you wanted, right? Don’t go trying to make me feel bad for doing what you ask of me.”