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She wouldn’t be wrong to think so. Worn out from playing the provider when I was young, I trained myself to be the unavailable guy. Happy to play the role of cool uncle, but not dad. I didn’t want to be a real father. Those guys only fuck you up.
I sigh, check the time, and head back out to the mountain, to help get my sister’s kids where they need to go. Her husband hasn’t been able to drive since his accident, and she’s been run off her feet. They can use all the help they can get, and lucky for them, I’ve got time to spare, because I’ve spent my adult life making sure nobody else needs me. Forty-two and alone.
What a shitty fucking legacy.
And I’m fantasizing about breeding a college-aged girl.
What part of my sick, twisted little brain thinks I’m father material?
I’d better fucking swear off love and women until I get my stupid head straight.
7
JEM
THE NEXT YEAR…
Isnap my bubblegum, jiggle Viv on my shoulder, and add an extra pack of diapers to my cart — the next size up, because she’s growing so fast she’ll probably need them by the time we finish the first pack. Her daddy was a pretty big guy, so maybe she’ll take after him.
“Excuse me, miss? Your little Cinderella dropped her slipper.”
I turn at the man’s voice, and my bubblegum just about falls from my mouth when my jaw drops open.
Gunnar Scott is holding out one of Viv’s booties.
He freezes too, and we stare at each other, both apparently speechless.
He drops his gaze to Viv, and his eyes widen as fast as my face flushes with heat.
When he lifts his eyes to meet mine, I open my mouth to say something — anything — but no words come out. He’s frowning, and he looks like he has about a hundred questions. As well he might.
I don’t know what he’ll ask first when he seems about to speak, only that I want him not to be mad at me. My eyes tear up in a heartbeat, and his face softens instantly.
“Shelby.” He says it so softly, so sweetly — he can see how fragile I am.
I shake my head. “Jem,” I correct him, before my voice cracks.
His complexion pales. “You gave me a fake name?”
I nod and sniff back my threatening tears. “I’m sorry. I… I can explain.”
“You wanted no strings.” He stares at Viv again, and I can see him doing the fucking math. “I tried to track you down after you left,” he says, “but you… didn’t want to be found. And now…?”
Suddenly, I want to be anywhere but the fucking grocery store, and Viv’s starting to suck on my shoulder, hungry again, like always. I chew my gum hard and fast, looking around for somewhere to take her, but the car is probably the best place. More than ready to abandon my cart before she screams the place down, I take a step back, but my balance takes an unapproved vacation thanks to my trembling legs, and all I do is wobble on the spot.
Gunnar reaches out to steady us. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but then shake my head. “I need to go sit in my car.”
Gunnar looks between our shopping carts — mine filled with diapers, and his filled with baking supplies and beer. He moves them both to one side of the aisle and nods. “Okay. Let’s go,” he says, like there’s no option other than his coming with me.
There isn’t, I guess. I have some explaining to do.
He escorts me to my car and helps settle Viv and me into the passenger seat, like a gentleman. A strong, supportive gentleman, who smells unbelievably good up close, like he did when we met.
It’s so easy to close my eyes and remember exactly what it felt like to have his big arms keeping me safe and secure. While he fucked me like he’d die if he didn’t. While he made me come, and then made me a mom.
Viv begins to fuss, and I swear under my breath, rushing to get my breast out for her. “Sorry. If I don’t get her latched on fast, there’ll be hell to pay. The girl knows what she wants, and she’s a bit of a screamer.”
