Page 14 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“Otis!” A beautiful, older blonde woman greets my dad, her voice a lovely, singsongy coo. Everything about her is just as graceful and stunning as I remember from years ago, but other than being Jace’s mother, I can’t remember her name to save my life. Looking between the boys, recognition dawns on her, the bright smile on her face widening. “Otis and Otis…I don’t know why I didn’t put those two together. This must be your little guy.”

“Indeed it is, Miss Belle.”

Miss Belle! That’s it…

“He and Presley just moved back to town. It’s gonna be nice having them close.”

“Oh, I bet. I have to say, I’m a little jealous. I’m looking forward to being promoted to Glam-ma.” She turns and looks at Otis, giving him a grandmotherly once-over, her smile never wavering. “You, good sir…” she says, tickling my preschooler’s tummy. He giggles, loving the attention. “…need some cleaning up. Let’s get you a napkin.”

“O’tay.”

Dad reaches out for him again, and this time, Otis willingly piles into his arms, smearing cinnamon roll over the both of them in the process. Thankfully, my father laughs, a deep, jovial sound that makes him sound like Santa.

I watch the three of them step to the side to start the clean-up process, nerves and insecurity rising in me as I’m left alone with Jace. Time to put aside any hurt feelings I may have been harboring for nearly two decades over events that if I stop and think about, were probably a lot more inconsequential than they felt like back then. Ones that I hate to admit still live rent free in my mind.

Suck it up, buttercup…

“Thank you,” I say, mustering up all of the manners I possess. “It means a lot that⁠—”

“You need to watch your kid.”

Excuse me?!

I blink, hard. Did he really just say that? He did. Jace Hayes really just scolded me—in public—for something he doesn’t have any clue about.

“W-w-what?” I stutter, so taken aback by his harsh words cutting me off.

“You heard me.” He steps in closer, his face scrunching in serious annoyance. “You need to watch your kid. The farmers’ market is busy, and there’s a lot of stuff going on. It’s not a place to just let him run wild.”

“I do not let him run wild,” I defend.

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“You don’t know anything about us.”

Not that such trivial details have ever stopped him before. He made assumptions then, and he’s making them now. Jackass…

“Doesn’t take much to see that you’re being an irresponsible parent. You and your husband need to keep a closer watch on him. This is how things happen.”

Oh, no, he didn’t…

I don’t know what to lose my shit about first. Calling me an irresponsible parent, or the husband comment. My father has been the compliance officer for Hayes Industries for years—it’s why we moved to Hickory Hills in the first place. I also know how close he is to Auggie, the patriarch of the family and the man who is still owner/operator and CEO. Meaning, there is no way the soap opera that has been my life for the last three plus years hasn’t been discussed. There is no way that my being a single mother isn’t public knowledge.

Ire flashes through me, my blood starting to boil at Jace’s words. I am not an irresponsible parent. Far from. My child knows he’s supposed to hold on to an adult at all times. He knows that he’s not supposed to let us out of his sight. I always make sure one of us is with him.

That said, he’s three. And the expression threenager is a thing for a reason. Otis is a good kid, but he isn’t different from any other kid his age figuring out their own personality, how to test boundaries and express a weird desire for independence, considering he can’t even tie his shoes yet.

“I am not an irresponsible parent,” I bite back.

“Evidence points to the contrary.”

Oh, fuck him. Seriously. I don’t know where he gets off saying shit like this, but I am not going to stand for it.

“Are you a parent? Huh…huh?” I snap. I know the answer—he’s not. Miss Belle just said so. Which means he has zero idea what it’s like. “No, you’re not. Which means this conversation is over.”

I don’t wait for a response. Because there is absolutely nothing he can say that is going to rectify this. I’m still grateful that he found Otis and made sure he was out of harm’s way, and I said my piece in thanking him. But that doesn’t mean that I need to stand here and take his unfounded criticism.

Who cares that he’s a Hayes and that they basically own this town. Or that Hayes Industries is my new employer. Jace himself isn’t.