Chasing Him

by Kennedy Fox

  I’m so fucked.

  Luckily, as soon as I walk into the B&B, I’m distracted by Jackson who’s busy making coffee in the serving area.

  “What the hell you doin’ here so early?” I ask.

  “Jesus, do you just sneak up on people like that all the time?” He glares at me.

  “Maybe.” I chuckle.

  “The damn coffeepot in the ranch hand quarters broke, so I’m desperate. I can’t wait until my house is finished. It’s like living in a frat house.”

  “Then you should fit right in, considering my house felt the same way when you lived there,” I add.

  Jackson gives me a huff and an eye roll then goes back to watching the coffee drip like it’s his life blood. Once the coffee finishes, I grab a cup and fill it to the top, considering I left the house without drinking any this morning.

  “What’s your deal?” Jackson takes a sip of hot ass coffee, not caring that it’s steaming. He acts like he didn’t just burn the shit out of his mouth, but I know the truth.

  “I don’t have a deal,” I say, but he knows better.

  “Okay. Whatever you say. Anyway, gotta feed the horses. Do you ever just wanna call in sick? No? Just me? Today was one of those days, but the ranch hands woulda snitched me out. Bastards.”

  He continues complaining, and I try to ignore him, but he’s impossible. I asked for a distraction and got a grumpy Jackson—perfect. A few guests come downstairs, and thankfully, Jackson moseys his way to the barn. I open the curtains and allow the sunlight to peek through, then continue on with my daily tasks.

  Hours pass, and I get lost in confirming reservations and writing a marketing plan to help book more riding lessons for the summer. It’s an easy way to exercise the horses and build the B&B’s brand. We’re coming up on the busiest time of the year, and it’s important to accommodate our guests. Mama is serious about the B&B having that country vibe that so many people desperately search for. When I look up from my notes, I see it’s almost time for lunch, so I suck it up and walk to the house. When I enter, I can see it’s spotless again, basically gleaming, and instantly know Mila is pissed.

  “Mama sent over some lunch,” Mila says from the couch, barely showing any attention to me when I walk in.

  “Okay, great.” I see the containers on the table and walk over and make a plate of fried fish, French fries, and homemade hush puppies. I sit at the table alone and hate how much this is bothering me. Once I’m finished eating, I wash my hands and have my short playtime with Maize. Since we’re both on a schedule, I try to spend as much time with her as I can. Often, I’ll leave the B&B just to give her kisses.

  “I think you’re overreacting. I’ve already said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?” Mila stands and walks to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

  “Can we just pretend it didn’t happen and move on?” As much as I’ve tried to pretend, the thought of holding her close against me again hits me in full force.

  “That’s what you want?” She unscrews the top and takes a big drink.

  I nod, but just thinking about her soft skin makes my mouth dry too.

  “Okay, then.” The attitude in her voice isn’t lost on me.

  I place Maize in her jumper, give Mila a smile, then go back to the office. On the way over, I curse myself for being so fucking stubborn. Mila doesn’t deserve that, but some things are better left buried, hidden away. If discussed, light will be brought to feelings we shouldn’t have, and it’s easier to just not.

  Walking up the back porch, I run my fingers through my hair and push it all away. As soon as I walk into the B&B, I place a smile on my face. A woman stops me in the front common area and asks me questions about horseback riding.

  “I’ve never been on a horse before, and I’m an old lady. Can’t risk falling and breaking a hip or anything. You think I’ll be okay?” she asks slightly concerned.

  “We have horses specifically for beginners. Basically, a toddler could ride and be fine. Plus, my brother is the best teacher in Texas. Swear by it.” I smile.

  “It has always been a bucket list item for me.” She grins, thinking it over.

  “Great, when would you like to start? Tomorrow? I think Jackson has an opening right after lunch if you’re interested.” I just looked at the schedule and know that for a fact.

  Beaming, she nods her head. “Yes, sign me up. I’d like that a lot.”

  “It’s a date then.” I give her a wink.

  She gives me a side hug, and I can tell she’s excited about riding. I love introducing people to horseback riding and being able to provide that service. We continue with small talk about the weather, and I follow her to the front door and open it for her. Just as she’s telling me goodbye, I notice a brand-new solid black Mercedes creeping down the driveway. I place my hands on my hips and watch as the car slows in front of the house. Probably one of those fancy real estate agents trying to buy the property again. Instead of entertaining the thought, I walk inside. I really don’t have time for this today. I send Jackson a quick text to give him a warning about my suspicions just in case he needs to step in. Though I’m pretty direct that we’re not selling this property ever, Jackson has a way with words. The thought makes me laugh, especially considering he’s in a mood today.

  While waiting for the driver to get out of the car, I step back into my office and pull up the wholesale supplies website and make an order for extra cleaning products, new towels, and other things we’re running low on. Almost fifteen minutes pass before a well-dressed couple walks into the B&B. The woman is slim and pretty in her own way. Her hair is cut into a short blonde bob, and her lips are pursed. The man is older, wearing a tailored suit, just as nice as the tuxedos we rented for Alex’s wedding. He looks tired—frail almost—with sunken-in eyes and a hard expression. They glance around, studying the B&B, and I wonder what kind of offer they’ll make. People trying to buy us out isn’t anything new, but it’s still early in the season for that.

  As soon as they make eye contact with me, I smile, but their expressions don’t change. I notice the giant ring on the woman’s finger when she brushes the hair from her eyes, though her hair hasn’t moved an inch since she entered. They walk to the counter, and I treat them just as I would any other person who enters the B&B.

  “Hi y’all, how can I help you?” I wait for it, the million-dollar offer, with a smile on my face.

  “We’re actually looking for John Bishop,” the man says. His voice is deep and gruff, not what I expected from him.

  “I’m John, and you are?” My smile doesn’t falter.

  The woman opens her mouth and closes it quickly before looking over at the man. Guests begin to filter in from downstairs, and the room fills with chatter.

  “I’m Mr. Bradley Kensington, and this is my wife, Barbara.”

  I glance over at the woman, and she grabs his hand. My body stiffens as I look at Bailey’s parents. The grandparents of my daughter. This will be the first time we’ve formally met. It’s hard to concentrate with so many people around, so I politely ask if we can bring the conversation to the back porch.

  Once we’re outside, I look at them and try to keep my manners, but it’s hard. Too many side glances and I can tell they’re judging everything about me all the way down to my boots, which doesn’t sit well with me. Considering the few stories Bailey told me about her parents, I know they’re here for a reason.

  “How can I help you?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.

  “Well sir, we’d like to talk to you about our daughter’s baby,” her dad says.

  “You mean, our baby. My baby.”

  He ignores my words and acts as if I didn’t speak.

  “Right, we understand how much this all has probably burdened you. Having a baby, having to take care of her in your current situation.” He looks around at the B&B, allowing his elitism to ooze from his ass.

  “Anyway, what we’re trying to say is, what’s your number?”

>   I’m confused by what he’s asking me, and the look on my face says as much. “My number?”

  Her mother pipes in. “Yes, how much would you like for us to take the baby off your hands. I think her name is…Macy?”

  “It’s Maize. And actually, I’m appalled that you’d have the audacity to march your uppity asses up here and offer a dollar amount for my goddamn child. If you know what’s best for you, you’ll hop in that fancy car of yours and drive straight to hell.”

  Her father chuckles, which only causes me to burn with anger.

  “Fifty thousand,” he says with eyebrows raised.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Seventy-five thousand,” Mr. Kensington throws out before I even have a chance to fully process what the hell is happening.

  “Get the fuck out,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down since there are guests inside.

  “A hundred thousand,” Mrs. Kensington offers frantically.

  “Y’all have lost your damn minds,” I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief.

  Mrs. Kensington straightens her shoulders as she continues speaking. “This is no place for a child to grow up. What do you really have to offer her anyway? I’m sure you weren’t prepared to take care of her. You’re a smart and good-looking young man; I’m sure you’ll see we’re giving you an out, so you can get back to the life you had before this slight inconvenience.”

  If she wasn’t a woman, I’d deck her between the eyes. Luckily, Mama taught me manners, and being Jackson’s brother taught me tolerance, but right now both are being tested. I stare at them, so disgusted with the fact that they’re offering to buy my child from me—my own flesh and blood.

  “It’s the only piece of our daughter we have left. We want to raise her the right way. Send her to all the best private schools. We can afford to give her the life you can’t,” Mr. Kensington says.

  “And treat her like you treated your own daughter?” I throw in their faces. “Keep her under your thumb and control her life like you did Bailey?” The expressions on their faces tell me they hadn’t realized I’d known about that part of her life, and even though our time together was short, she did share some personal things.

  “With all due respect—” Mrs. Kensington begins, but I’m quick to cut her off.

  “No, you listen. I might not have a fancy car, a vacation house on the beach, or money to throw around like it’s nothing, but that child has experienced more love than you ever gave Bailey. Now I’ve declined your offers, so pardon my French, but you need to get the fuck outta here before there’s an actual issue.” I take a step forward, closing the gap between Mr. Kensington and me.

  I’m past the point of angry, and the only thing that pulls me back to reality is seeing Mila in the distance as Jackson steps up on the porch, ready to break apart a fight

  “This is no place for a child,” Mrs. Kensington adds, acting as if she’s disgusted she even had to set foot on this land. Guaranteed, she’s not feeling nearly as disgusted as I am at the moment.

  “What’s the problem here?” Jackson asks, looking back and forth between us, only catching the tail end of the heated discussion.

  “Nothing. They were just leaving,” I tell him, keeping my stance as I narrow my gaze at them.

  The Kensingtons look back and forth between us, realizing there’s two of us, but don’t say anything about it. As Mr. Kensington goes to leave, wrapping his arm around his wife, he looks over his shoulder with a smug ass look on his face. “Give me a number. We’ll pay whatever you want for the baby.”

  “Over my dead body,” I throw back at them, taking a step toward them, but Jackson steps in front to block me.

  He quickly realizes what’s going on, and his expression goes rigid once he puts the pieces together. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t you ever set your bald, ugly ass on this property again or you’ll be dealing with me. And I’m a lot worse than my brother,” he spits out before the Kensingtons leave.

  “You’re a disgrace. You’ll be hearing from our lawyer,” Mr. Kensington says, opening the door. I walk around Jackson to go after him and give him exactly what he deserves, but Jackson’s quick to jerk me back.

  My chest rises and falls, and I’m so mad that I reach back and punch the wooden post on the back porch. It fucking hurts, but the adrenaline rushing through me has me not giving a shit. Blood covers my knuckles, and I know I’m going to have a cut, but I’m so riled up, I can’t even think straight. There are too many things running through my mind, and I’ll be damned if I allow them to treat me or Maize that way. She’s not an animal that can be sold. She’s my daughter.

  “Go take a breath. Get your mind right. I’ll watch over everything, okay?” Jackson squeezes my shoulder, and I walk off the back porch, knowing I need to get my emotions together. For once, I’m thankful for Jackson being there for me. If he hadn’t shown up, I may have assaulted Bailey’s father, which is probably what they wanted just to prove I was unfit to raise a child.

  I see Mila out of the corner of my eye but keep my head down. I hate that she witnessed me losing my shit, but my reaction was valid. Feeling the blood drip down my hand, I wipe it on my shirt and realize there are three nasty gashes. It burns the moment I rub it against the fabric, and I know I’ll need to clean it out.

  I know this is far from over, but I’ll fight with everything I have for my little girl. I won’t be intimidated by an asshole in a suit driving a Mercedes, regardless if they’re Maize’s biological grandparents. I understand now why Bailey warned me about them in her note and why she left their house as soon as she was able to afford to. No telling what she’d say about their offer, but it seems as if they’re used to buying everything, so it might not be shocking at all.

  Unfortunately for them, money can’t and won’t ever buy what they want from me. The thought alone has me rolling in anger all over again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  MILA

  Well, that wasn’t awkward or anything.

  As soon as John leaves after lunch, I know things between us are never going to be the same. He can act like it never happened all he wants, but I know deep down he feels the connection just as much as I do.

  I still can’t believe I fell asleep in his bed, then woke up in his arms. It was also the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. His large body engulfed mine, and I’d felt so safe and secure in his warm embrace. His breath tickled my neck, and when his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer, I moaned aloud at how amazing it felt.

  As soon as the bed dipped and he was gone, I realized something was wrong.

  Then reality set in. I was in John’s bed, wrapped up in him as his erection pressed against my butt.

  The strangled groan that released from his throat the moment his eyes met mine told me everything I needed to know. He’s fighting his emotions, and the longer he pretends the connection between us doesn’t exist, the faster his walls are crumbling down.

  Breakfast was another awkward moment, and even though I apologized for being in his bed, he’s blowing it off. I’m basically the major of pretending-shit-didn’t-happen-ville and queen of we’re-only-friends-land, but John Bishop deserves his own island for being the most confusing man on the planet.

  “Alright, Maize.” I finish getting her dressed for the third time today. “No more blowouts, okay? Can we make a deal? You save them for when your daddy’s on duty, and I’ll put a good word in for you to get your own pony.”

  She smiles up at me, warming my heart the way she does every time I talk to her. Her dark hair is getting longer, so I grab one of the bow headbands on her dresser to keep her hair back. She’s already changed so much in the couple of months I’ve been here, and it’s hard to believe she’s just over five months old. Watching her grow and change in just two months has been one of the most rewarding parts of this job. I saw how fast my twin sisters grew, but I didn’t appreciate it back then. Now they’re twelve years old, crushing over boys, and glued to their iPhon
es. They’ll officially be teenagers this summer.

  I texted John shortly after lunch and asked about a stroller, so I could take Maize for a walk after her nap, and once I sent him a picture of what one might look like, he told me there was one in the storage shed behind the house.

  “I need to get your daddy a picture book,” I tell Maize with a chuckle as I snap her car seat into the stroller. “Let’s go for a walk and get some sun. Whatcha say, baby girl?”

  I place a little sun hat on her head, and she smiles for me, so I snap a picture and send it to John. Maybe it’ll break some of the weird tension between us.

  Mila: Hi Daddy! Look at how cute Mila dressed me :) Can’t wait to see you tonight!

  I’ve only texted him a few times with pictures of her because I always worry I’ll be bothering him at work, but I just couldn’t resist today. The bright colored hat on her head is too cute.

  John: She looks adorable. Thanks for sending that.

  * * *

  Mila: No problem. We’re heading out for our walk.

  * * *

  John: Have fun. It’s beautiful out today. Wish I could take her myself.

  * * *

  Mila: I’ll leave the stroller out from now on in case you want to take her after work one of these nights.

  * * *

  John: Great, thanks.

  If I thought John was hard to read in person, he’s impossible to read in text messages. But at least we’re chatting, even if it is about Maize. Guess he really meant what he said this morning—wants to act like us waking up together in his bed never happened.