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“It’s mother-effing hilarious,” Billie said. “Finn so deserves this.”
I nodded in agreement, laughing, having the absolute time of my life with a forty-nine-year-old man as he wrestled with a cowboy like he was ten.
* * *
“That was fun,” I said, breathless from the cold. Frank had pulled his truck into the middle of the school parking lot, and we were alone, not another soul anywhere in sight besides Grum. The truck’s bright lights illuminated us standing in the still-falling snow like a spotlight, and I removed my soaked mittens, shaking off the ice.
Billie, Finn, and Jay had gone after convincing Frank they’d stay out of trouble. They were only in town to help their brother Dean plow driveways for a few folks who needed to get to work. They weren’t sure if the county plows would get to them in time, and the Cades had their own plow shovels to clear snow out at their ranch, so they did it for their friends and neighbors when they could.
But the snow had slowed. It fell lazily now, like dreamy, soft, fairy kisses landing on my eyelashes, and Frank leaned in. Trying to catch my breath, I closed my eyes, or maybe it was more like they fell shut under his spell, and I exhaled as he kissed my cheeks, melting the snow with his lips. Pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose, he pulled me close.
Uncertainty roared through my head, but my body was all too willing. How could he be too old for me after the snowball fight? He was the one joining in the fun, free and young at heart, while I stood there.
He took his hat back and tossed it into the open door of his truck, then pulled my hood above my head. And then we were dancing in the snow, swaying back and forth to the music of the crystal silence. The harder it snowed, the warmer I felt, wrapped in his arms. The only sound was Grum, snuffling and snorting the fresh powder as he ran circles around us.
Opening my eyes, I looked up at him, reaching up on my tiptoes to fit my lips to his. He pressed me closer with his hands on my low back, tilted his head, and opened my mouth with insistence from his, his beard tickling my cheek roughly.
The steam from our tangled breath rose above us, and Frank gripped my hips, holding me in place while he kissed me like he had on my front porch—had that only been last week? It felt like a lifetime had gone by.
His mouth was firm and dominant, but then his lips softened. They were intoxicating, and I was all too eager to follow him wherever it was he wanted to lead me with the kiss, until I was gasping for air, heart pounding, body tightening, my hands stealing the warmth from his neck, fingers threading through the short hair there, pulling him closer still.
And then, just like last time, he pulled away, whispering, “Slow down, girl.”
“What? Why? I thought—”
In the sexiest, lowest lull of a voice, he whispered next to my ear, “’Cause this is goin’ somewhere, Samantha…” The wet warmth from his lips brushing against the shell of my ear sent shivers down my spine. “But when I fuck you, it’s gonna be in front of my fire, where I can lay you down and spread you open.” He pulled back again, looking in my eyes, pulling a piece of hair away from my face. It was wet from the snow and sticking to my cheek. “I wanna see you and touch you. I want your nipples hard and pressin’ into my chest when I make you come.”
I gulped. “You did not just say that.”
“Yes, ma’am, I did.”
“Okay, well…” I took a steadying breath. “I want that now.” It sounded a lot braver than I felt.
“We ain’t ready for it.”
Huh? I blinked, confused. “What does that mean?”
“The other day, I was too old for you. Now you want me?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The wantin’ part ain’t wrong, but it’s the why.” He pressed against me, letting me feel his erection, hard against my belly even through however many layers of clothing we were wearing. “If we’re doin’ this, you better have some idea of why you want me, ’cause once you’re mine, I ain’t lettin’ go.”
A gasp was the only response I could muster. The nerve of this guy!
But I had to admit, I didn’t think I’d want him to let go. I felt more cherished in his presence than I ever had in my parents’. How was that for a fucked up daddy/daughter dynamic?
His gaze strayed as he stepped back, focusing on something behind me. “Besides,” he said, “we got work to do.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRANK
“Work? Was there an accident?” Samantha asked, looking over her shoulder, trying to see what I was seeing. Dressed in the snow pants, with her pink hair under her purple hat, pink mittens, and blue winter coat, she was like a field of spring wildflowers meant just for me.
My heart was racing just being near her, and when she kissed me, man alive, it set all my instincts and insecurities on edge. What the hell was I to her? Was I too old? Was she too young?
What the fuck was this thing between us?
