When We Met: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

by Shey Stahl

  I stare over at her, the girls’ laughter filling the silence in the distance. “You know nobodies’ Christmas is perfect, right?” I try to ease some humor into my words, fearing she’s going to start crying if I don’t. “I mean, Morgan… we know this Christmas isn’t gonna be perfect.”

  She stifles her laughter with her gloved hand, and if perfection did exist, it resides in this moment, with flushed cheeks, a smile, and blue eyes. I don’t know where this is going, but with her, I’m willing to find out.

  Kacy’s eyes drift to the girls. “I know it won’t be perfect, especially if Morgan gets a hold of the tequila, but this is perfect. Here. With you guys. And it starts with baking cookies with two little girls. I’m going to make every Christmas cookie imaginable.”

  I pull her into my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “You’re something else, Darlin’.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  I press my lips to her temple. “A very good thing.” We haven’t talked about where this is leading or what comes after Christmas. I don’t even want to think about her leaving.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Kacy says, trudging through the snow beside me, the girls ahead of us a few steps. We took a walk around the ranch. The girls wanted to show her where they go swimming in the summer, and that turned into them hunting for a lost spell in the trees. Okay, Sev is hunting for a nonexistent spell, and Camdyn is going along with it for now. I have to admit, since Kacy has been here, Camdyn’s been a lot nicer to Sev. I’ve only had to separate one fight this week.

  Without much thought, I take Kacy’s hand in mine, fully aware this is the first time I’ve held it. “Spring is beautiful,” I hedge, curious what she’ll say. “Summers are hot and unbearable.”

  Worry etches in her face, her eyes darting to the kids. “I… need talk to you about something.”

  My heart beats a little faster. “About leaving?”

  “No. It’s just that, well, I don’t know… we should talk. Alone.”

  I panic. “Kacy, if this is about you staying here for Christmas… I want you here. They want you here.”

  “No, about you—”

  “Daddy?” Camdyn yells. “Who’s that?”

  I glance over my shoulder to see what she’s pointing at. That’s when I see a familiar Chevy truck. Johnny’s truck. Only he’s not the one standing outside of it. Fuck. Why the hell would she show up here?

  “Goddamn it, Tara,” I grumble, feeling like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. I drop my arm from around Kacy and face her. She’s pale, her eyes wide in fear, panic… I don’t know, but I can’t place it. It’s as if she’s seeing a ghost. “Can you take my girls inside?” I ask, handing her Camdyn’s jacket she stripped off and tossed at me.

  Kacy nods, reaching for their hands and the jacket, but there’s hesitation in her eyes. “I uh… yes. I can.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nods again, chewing on her bottom lip. That’s when I realize how odd this must look to her—a woman standing in front of my house looking like she wants to rip my nut sac off. Probably needs explaining on my part. “That’s my wife,” I whisper. “But the girls have no idea who she is,” I warn, hoping she catches on.

  Nodding, almost frantically, she catches on.

  I have no idea why Tara would show up here… actually, I do. I just didn’t think she had the guts to face me in person.

  Kacy takes the girls closer to the house, underneath the porch. “Should we go inside? It’s getting cold.”

  I step toward Tara, who approaches us, looking every bit like her Instagram photos and not like the farm girl who left here three years ago. “What are you doing here?” I growl.

  She throws her hands up, glaring at me as she steps through the snow. “To get you to sign the damn papers, Barron.” She at least has the decency to keep her voice down.

  “Why?” I snort, stepping closer to her and under the confines of the covered porch wrapping around the house. “So you can get remarried? Because that’s all this about, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she admits, her eyes on Kacy and the girls behind me as Kacy struggles to get their snow boots off. Her hands are shaking. Fuck. I bet she’s freaked out by all this, and the idea that she might be only pisses me off more.

  I lift my eyes back to Tara. My chest tightens with every second I’m near her. Believe me, I’d rather stick my hand in a cow’s ass than have a conversation with Tara about these fucking divorce papers. But I knew it was coming. Eventually. I just didn’t think she’d show up here, days before Christmas, while the girls were here.

  “So you came all this way to have me sign them?” I laugh, burying my shaking hands in my pockets. I don’t want her to see that her existence here makes me edgy. I’ve never told the girls about her. They have no idea what she looks like or anything about her. For all they know, they were hatched like chickens. Not true, but they don’t ask much about it, so I don’t give details.

  “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, right, Kacy?” Tara’s cool blue eyes slide to Kacy.

  My heart drops, and suddenly I find it hard to breathe. Kacy? It takes me a minute before the realization hits me. She’s from California. Did she… no. She couldn’t have. Unfortunately, by the expression on Kacy’s face, the truth is there, without words. She… knows Tara. Slowly, I meet Kacy’s eyes; her pale expression confirms it.

  She’s staring, mouth open, at Tara. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, that’s cute.” Tara laughs. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

  Kacy shakes her head, but no words come out.

  Sev tugs on Kacy’s hand. “Is dat Barbie?”

  No one answers Sev.

  Tara glares at Kacy. “How pitiful that you were so jealous of me that you had to come here to find the one I left behind.”

  This is where I see fucking red. And not for the reasons you’d think. I don’t know why, but my brain hasn’t even registered that part of the connection, or maybe I don’t care enough. What has me ready to blow up on Tara are the girls being this close to her. I’m sweating, ready to grab them and rush them away from her. It makes me vulnerable because I do not want them knowing their mom abandoned them. Not right before Christmas when they asked Santa for a mom.

  My focus slips, and I look down at the kids, who have remained completely oblivious to this until this moment. “Who’s she?” Camdyn asks, watching Tara curiously. I search her face for any recollection at all. I often wondered if Camdyn would remember her. She was one when Tara left, and you know, there’s relief because she doesn’t.

  “She not from Santa,” Sev tells her, reaching for her cat that walks by.

  Tara stares at the girls and then Kacy. “I can’t believe you came here. I fire you and then find my husband? That’s pathetic.”

  Irritation gets the better of me. “Somebody better explain what the fuck is going on!” I yell. Both my kids straighten their postures, knowing I mean business. Sev drops the cat, and even he runs away at the tone of my voice.

  “Kacy was my assistant,” Tara says, with no emotion in her eyes. “Up until I fired her.”

  What? Did I hear that correctly?

  I look to Kacy, who’s holding Sev now, staring at me with sorry eyes.

  “That’s not what happened.” Kacy swallows and regards Tara with a scowl. “I quit.”

  I continue to stare at her, even after the words leave her lips. I focus on her mouth, then back to her eyes. “Kacy,” I whisper, stunned, waiting for the take-back, but it doesn’t come.

  She knew Tara? She knew her… and me? Had she really come here because of Tara?

  “Whatever.” Tara flips her hand up in the air, the diamond on her finger reflecting off the fading sun in the distance. “You couldn’t do your damn job. What are you even doing here?”

  Camdyn tugs on my hand. “She said a bad word.”

  “I know.” I glance at Kacy. “Can you take them inside th
e house?”

  She nods, gauging my reaction. I offer nothing. Am I mad? Fucking right I am, but not at Kacy. I want answers, sure, but I’m more pissed off at Tara being here.

  Tears well up in her eyes, but she takes both girls. “How about some hot chocolate?”

  They both nod. “You read ours mind,” Camdyn says, following her.

  “Extra mellows dis time,” Sev tells her, dragging the cat inside with her.

  Tara’s eyes linger on the house. When the door closes behind them, she rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe she came here. I never told her to,” she breathes, as if she’s offended. “It’s typical of her. She probably got your address off the papers I kept having her send back to you.”

  Ah, yes. There’s the stuck-up bitch I remember. “Cut the bullshit.” I groan, running my hands over my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “To get you to sign the papers.”

  “You couldn’t mail them? You can’t show up here right before Christmas and confuse them.”

  “News flash, asshole.” Her eyes narrow into slits, ready to chop my dick off. “You sent them back. Five fucking times now. This all would have been over a long time ago if you would have signed them.”

  “I didn’t sign them because you wouldn’t correct them,” I point out, done having this same argument. “Do you have them?” I motion with an irritated jab to the designer bag hanging off her arm. “I’ll sign them now to get you off my fucking property and out of my life.”

  I don’t think she likes how mean I’m being by the constant roll of her eyes. “Still just as dramatic as I remember.”

  “And you're still just as bitchy,” I dig, hoping it stings.

  Opening her bag, she pulls out a stack of papers and a pen. “Sign them and I’ll leave.”

  Ripping the papers and the pen from her hand, I glower at her. “Gladly.” I’ll do just about anything to get her out of my life at this point. Well, almost anything.

  “They got big,” she notes, gesturing to the house.

  I shake my head, a warning glare shot her way. “Don’t.”

  She blinks slowly, playing dumb. “Don’t what?”

  “Act like you give a shit.” Scanning the papers, I notice what’s missing. What’s always missing. The reason I’ve been sending them back for years.

  I hand them back to her, my jaw so tight it’s sending pain through my ears and into the back of my skull.

  “What now?”

  “Same problem as always,” I snap, throwing the pen at her feet. “Full custody or nothing. I don’t get what the fucking problem is. You left them. That should have been the first thing on the papers. You didn’t want them. The only reason you keep putting joint custody is to hurt me.”

  There’s sadness in her eyes. Something I didn’t think she was capable of and hadn’t expected. “It’s more than that,” she whispers, her eyes dropping to the gravel beneath us, the only spot cleared of snow.

  My pulse pounds my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. “What then? It’s not like you actually want them.”

  There’s no reaction from her. No words. No denial.

  And then it hits me, like the time I was kicked in the stomach by Morgan’s horse when I was ten. All those people Tara’s trying to impress, they don’t know she has kids. If anyone found out she has children, including the guy she’s engaged to, well, that wouldn’t look like the small-town girl made it big. It’d look like she left her family. Which is the truth, but that story doesn’t sell like the Texas beauty queen ploy she played them with. So why’d she want joint custody?

  I look up at her, realizing how much Camdyn looks like her. Sighing, I ask what I probably don’t want to know. “If you didn’t want anyone finding out you had kids, why not just give me full custody the first time I asked for it?”

  There’s hesitation to answer my question, but she surprisingly does. “Because I thought if I had joint custody, I could still see you.” For the first time, sadness laces her words.

  I want to grab her by the throat and shake some parental sense into her. “So it had nothing to do with them,” I deduce, anger pulsing through me in waves.

  She nods.

  I can’t even accurately describe how much hate I have for her. It’s damn near suffocating. “They deserve better than you,” I growl, shaking my head. “Correct the goddamn papers and I’ll sign them.”

  I can tell by the way Tara’s watching me, the jealousy in her eyes when she noticed my arm around Kacy, this girl, she doesn’t love the man who gave her that ring on her finger. At least not completely. There’s a good part of her that’s still in love with me. And though I want to hate her, there’s a fraction of my heart that cares for her as the mother of my girls.

  I lean into the stone pillar next to me, inhaling a slow, steady breath. “Do they mean anything to you?”

  Her gaze falters and lands on her ring. “What kind of question is that, Barron?” That’s my answer. I knew this answer. I expected it, but it still hurts like hell that the lives we created together are easily replaced. This is Tara though. I don’t think she’s capable of loving anyone besides herself.

  “And me?” I ask, because I’m curious what my role in all this had been. A boy she used for a good time?

  She rolls her eyes, as if that’s a stupid question. “Of course I do.”

  I don’t miss the present tense she uses. That’s when I realize what a shitty person she is. She can love me, but not them? It’s obvious, they’re better off not knowing her.

  Her eyes drift to the house again. “Can I see them?”

  “No! Goddamn it,” I yell. That’s when I lose my shit completely and send my fist into the side of the house. I regret it immediately because I’m pretty sure I just broke my hand, but the pain is nothing compared to this anger pulsating through me. Tara yelps and jumps back, unprepared for my temper. I step toward her, close enough she feels my breath on her face, but I don’t touch her. “You left me with a fucking newborn and no reason. I haven’t had a life in three years, and you come here and rip it up again. Well, too fucking bad. You’re toxic. I don’t want you anywhere near them. You either change the papers and give me full custody or stay married to me. Take it to trial. You know I’ll win and get custody anyways. But you won’t do that, will you? You don’t want anyone knowing about your life here, do you?” She says nothing. “Ball’s in your court, sweetheart.”

  She searches my eyes, scowling. “You don’t have to be so nasty to me.”

  “Believe me, Tara, you haven’t seen just how nasty I can be when it comes to my kids’ safety.”

  “Safety?” She snorts, smoothing her hair in the wind. “It’s not like I’m going to hurt them, Barron. Stop being so dramatic.”

  “Go. Get off my property.”

  “I need to talk to Kacy,” she counters as if I should give her that much.

  “Not a goddamn chance.” I pierce her with a stare as firm as my stance. “You need to get off my fucking property before I call the sheriff.”

  Tara’s eyes lock on mine, a fuck-you plastered to her face. “You can’t possibly be into that girl. She’s the help, Barron. She cleans up my dog’s shit for a living.”

  I hate the way she says “that girl,” as if Kacy wouldn’t be good enough for me. I don’t know the situation, and I know Tara well enough not to believe anything she says. But her acting like Kacy isn’t good enough, it clicks. Her leaving California probably had everything to do with Tara. She was running from everyone in her life who treated her as if she would never be enough.

  Smirking, I drag my eyes up and down Tara’s body. “That girl is more woman than you ever were, or will be.”

  Tara’s body shifts, her stance stick-straight, hands on her hips. “Let me talk to her.”

  “No, you’re done hurting her too. Leave. It’s what you’re good at.”

  Her jaw drops and her voice raises an octave. “You can’t be serious.”

  I nod. “Oh, but I am, honey.”


  She moves back a step, nervous for the first time. “Now I know why I left you.”

  “And now I know why I never tried to get you back.”

  They have consequences.

  KACY

  Why did she come here?

  Oh, here’s an even better question. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL HIM?

  Because you’re a dummy, as Camdyn would say.

  I suck in a breath, trying to breathe, but it’s like I’m suffocating. I think I’m having a heart attack. Or anxiety attack. Are they different? Are the symptoms the same? Should I put my arm above my head?

  No, no. That’s if you’re choking.

  Breathe into a paper bag?

  No, that’s for hyperventilating.

  I have no air. I have a heartbeat though. It’s angry and pissed off at me.

  “Kacy?” Camdyn tugs on my hand beside me. “Are you okay?”

  I think I nod, but who knows at this point.

  “Daddy? Who is that girl?” Camdyn asks, the very second Barron comes through the door and slams it shut.

  He ignores her and places both hands on the counter, hanging his head. Is he mad? Does he hate me? What did she say to him?

  All questions I have but I’m not sure I’ll get answers to. I certainly don’t deserve them.

  “I’m hungry,” Sev says, petting her cat, who’s on the counter licking frosting from a cookie. And before anyone can stop her, Sev takes the cookie and eats it.

  I’m not sure who’s more disgusted—Barron or the cat whose cookie was eaten by the kid.

  “I’m taking my kids to my dad’s,” Barron finally says, an edge to his voice I haven’t heard before.

  Camdyn’s hands plant on her hips. “I wanna make cookies!” She holds up the antler cookie cutter she dug out when we came inside. “You said we could.”