Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance
Heartless: Chapter 24

I wake up hot and hard.

And smiling.

Willa’s hair is in my face, and her breath is making my neck feel damp and sweaty. She’s sprawled her long limbs over mine and pressed her body so close that all I’d have to do is shift her a few inches and she’d be lying right on top of me.

I’m not especially comfortable. And I fucking love it.

I always kind of chalked up my dry streak to aging, to being past it at thirty-eight. I know I’m not old but I feel old some days. Worn out and lacking the energy it takes to start a new relationship. Too tired to deal with the highs and the lows and the inevitable drama.

But Willa Grant invigorates me.

After having the best sex of my life, I dragged her to the kitchen and fed her. I made us pancakes. We talked. We laughed. But when she smudged a bit of syrup on her lips, I couldn’t resist licking it off. And that turned into me getting her on all fours, right on the hardwood floor in the kitchen. Which turned into a shower. Which turned into slamming her into the tile wall until we both came again.

She told me she couldn’t take anymore, but when I yanked her into my bed with me, I disappeared beneath the covers for one more taste. And it turns out she’s a big fat liar because she absolutely took more.

I should be exhausted right now, but apparently my dick didn’t get the memo. Because he’s up and ready to defile the twenty-five-year-old sprawled out in my bed. Again.

“Down, boy,” I murmur, reaching to adjust myself in my boxers. Willa stirs when I move, but my opposite arm comes around to the dimples at the small of her back, pressing her against me.

I don’t care if it’s physically uncomfortable. Having Willa close is comforting. It’s like having Luke under the same roof. I know everyone is safe.

I wish I could say I felt the same way about Luke’s mom. But I don’t. The only times Talia crosses my mind are when I’m feeling wounded or insecure. When that bitter taste crawls up my throat and I think about the years I wasted trying to make things work with her when deep down I didn’t want them to.

The worst part is, I can’t bring myself to regret it because I have Luke. And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Willa moves her head to my chest, sliding her fingers through the sparse hair. “Shh. Go back to sleep. I’m having the best dream.”

The thought that Willa is another of the best things in my life crops up, but it scares me. It feels too soon. She feels too young. It feels too . . . impossible.

“What are you dreaming about, Red?” I lift my head and drop a kiss to her silky hair.

I feel her chest shake a little, her breasts pressing against me. Even the metal of her piercings is warm, because of course she sleeps naked. “That my hot boss banged my brains out last night.”

I shake my head.

“No, for real. You should see this fucking guy. All dark and broody with a massive dick.”

“Willa.”

“These big, calloused hands to go with his big, round ass—”

“Woman.” I flip her onto her back, the sound of her giggle music to my ears. I lie on top of her, propped on my elbows. She’s got this playful smile on her face and creases on her cheek from the pillowcase. She looks like a sleepy, creamy, green-eyed goddess.

I shake my head at her again. I do that a lot. It used to be out of annoyance, now it’s more like . . . disbelief.

“Is woman how you say, Thank you for all the compliments, Willa?”

“Keep teasing me and I’ll fill your throat with my cock to shut you up again,” I grumble, but it’s playful. And she knows it. She’s figured out how to interpret me, rather than being offended by me. She knows when I’m joking, or when I’m grumpy. And when I am, she just rolls her eyes at me or walks away.

I guess that’s why she opens her mouth like she’s ready to take me there again, but then her eyes widen, and she slams a hand over it. “Oh my God. Morning breath. I’m sorry.”

I laugh. After what we did last night, a little morning breath won’t scare me off. “Willa, I was with you while you were barfing. Your breath will never be worse than that.”

She gasps from behind her palm like she’s offended. “Asshole!” And that just makes me laugh harder.

I press a kiss to her forehead before leaning over to whisper in her ear, “Lucky for you, I won’t be able to smell your breath with my dick in your mouth.”

She laughs silently at that, covering her face with both hands as her body shakes. I flop down beside her and let her infectious happiness take me over.

We lie here—laughing, hands roaming, bodies tangled—but before long, she pulls me back on top of her, slides down my body, and tells me to fuck her mouth.

“Okay, so like . . .” Willa wrings her hands in her lap as I start the truck. It’s like stepping outside of my house has reality crashing down all around us, and she’s freaking out. “How are we handling this?”

I should be freaking out but I feel remarkably calm. Something about this is just too right to get worked up over. I live in my head enough to know when I’m losing my shit, and I’m definitely not.

“Handling what?” I reply, as I shift into drive and watch behind myself out of habit. I still check for my old dog, who was always ripping around the farm, burning off his endless energy. The dog Talia took with her. She literally said she wanted “the dog or the kid.” I still can’t believe those words came out of her mouth. There was no question about that for me. Anyone who put those two on the same priority level was sure as shit not going to be raising my child.

“This. What happened between us. All the sex. Are we doing more of that? Or is it a one-and-done scenario?”

One of my cheeks quirk up. “I think you mean six and done, baby.”

“Don’t baby me right now, Eaton. I’m serious.”

“Me too, Red. Should I pull over? We can make it seven and counting.”

“I hate you.” She crosses her arms like she’s pouting. I know better. Willa isn’t a pouter.

“Right. But you love my dick.”

She sucks in a deep breath and then lets out this adorable frustrated growl. “Weeks and weeks of you being a humorless asshole, and all it took was a few orgasms for you to become Mr. Chucklehead. I should have taken one for the team sooner.”

I twist my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to hold back my laughter. “I think you should continue to take it for the team.”

Her head whips over to look at me. “Yeah?”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the gravel road ahead of me. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“Why?”

I glance at her now. Her eyes are narrowed, and I can see the insecurity written all over her face. Goddamn, but this girl puts on a good show.

“Because I like you, Willa.”

She points at me and tries to correct my statement. “You like to have sex with me.”

I stop the truck in the middle of the road. There’s no traffic so it doesn’t matter. And honestly, even if there were, they could all just fucking wait while I set this woman straight.

I turn to face her, one hand slung over the wheel. My posture might seem casual but my expression is not. She must take notice because I watch her shoulders shimmy as she sits up straighter and scans my face.

“No, Willa. I like you. I care about you. I didn’t go without sex for years just to start it back up randomly. I had opportunities, and I turned them down because I wasn’t interested. We don’t need to make a show of it, and with Luke around, we probably shouldn’t. But I’m interested in you. I don’t know where that leaves us or what it all means. All I know is that it’s going to fucking wreck me when you leave at the end of this summer, but I’m too far gone to care.”

Her lips pop open like she’s about to say something, but she closes them again. I can see her processing. She’s so expressive, nothing is locked up with a face like that. I can read her far too easily.

She doesn’t say it, but she looks happy with my response.

What she says is, “Thank you.”

I give her a firm nod, put the truck in drive, and reach across the console, palm open. Within seconds she slides her slender fingers between mine, and I wrap her hand up, giving her a quick squeeze as we drive to the main farmhouse in a stunned but companionable silence.

“Dad!” Luke flies around the corner of my father’s house like a bat out of hell as I stride around the front of my truck to open Willa’s door. I swear this kid never stops running . . . jumping . . . climbing. He’s taken years off my life for sure. “Willa!” he cries, when he sees her step out of the vehicle.

“You’re not my chauffeur, you know,” she murmurs as she takes my hand to hop down.

“I’ll add not opening your car door to the list of offenses—that includes not eating your pussy—from past men.”

She blushes and drops my hand, stepping away.

Keeping our hands off each other is going to be fucking torture. I can tell by the way her fingers trailed over my palm, like she wanted to hold contact for as long as possible.

Luckily for my ego, Luke launches himself at me first. I pull him up against me, noting how much heavier he’s grown. How much taller. He’s getting bigger faster than I care for. Growing up way too damn fast.

“Hey, pal. You have a good sleepover?”

“The best!” He smacks a loud kiss on my cheek, and I wonder what age he’ll stop doing that.

He pops down and does the same to Willa, except he wraps his arms around her waist. She doubles over, hair fanning around him as she hugs him back and whispers something private to him. Luke giggles, and Willa rubs a hand across the back of his head before dropping a quick kiss to his crown.

I stare at them like a lovesick fool, imagining something I’ve never let myself imagine. Luke’s had plenty of caretakers over the years—teachers, friends—but he’s never been as taken with a single person as he is with Willa. He’s needed someone like her in his life so badly.

And I guess that makes two of us because I can’t take my eyes off them.

“You having a stroke, son?” My dickhead dad calls from the front porch, actually making me jump.

I prop my hands on my hips, giving him my best say-nothing glare.

He’s not a stupid man. He’s grinning at me like he knows something. And I’m sure he does. I just don’t need him making it weird by making some joke about us giving the lawn a blow job or whatever shit he comes up with for entertainment.

I can’t wait to be old and retired and say things just to see how people will react to get my kicks. That’s the dream right there.

“Just tired,” is what I opt to respond with.

Harvey props himself against the post on the front porch with a knowing grin. “That’s what happens when you stay up too late partying at your age.”

Willa stands up straight now, arm slung around Luke, who is still clinging to her. “I was the one out partying. Cade stayed home to, uh, clean the house. He’s very tidy. You did well in that department.”

My dad scoffs. “That boy only cleans when he’s anxious.”

Dick.

“Well then, his anxiety must be off the charts,” Willa quips, trying to keep things light. Her bartender banter is on point, but my dad doesn’t fall for it.

“He’s looking mighty relaxed this morning,” he replies, grinning ear-to-ear.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, kicking at a stone in the packed dirt beneath my work boot.

Willa snickers and looks away. We both know we’re busted. Old Harvey’s fucking eagle eyes never miss a beat. And that’s what I get for staring at Willa like she hung the moon.

It’s been all of ten minutes since we left the house, and I’m already failing at keeping things between us under wraps. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to, but I also don’t want all the pitying looks when she leaves. The throat clearing and the back pats. And if people don’t know about us, they won’t know why I’m miserable. And that just feels a lot more bearable to me.

“What’s the plan today?” I stare down at Luke, opting to ignore my dad entirely.

“Planning my birthday! Willa, you’ll come right? Even though it’s on the weekend?”

She smiles down at him, giving his small shoulders a tight squeeze. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Will you play happy birthday to me on your guitar?”

She laughs and my dick goes hard. Watching Willa play the guitar is up there for me. All unplugged and stripped down, just her soft raspy voice and the gentle strumming of her dainty fingers, with long hair splayed against the stained wood.

It’s almost as hot as watching her sit on a bucking horse and stick the ride.

“I have an even better idea,” Willa says. “I’ll teach you how to play it too.”

Luke’s eyes go wide. “In front of everyone?”

“Only if you want to.” She ruffles his hair, and my brain snags on everyone. Because Luke’s birthday is the one day of the year that Talia likes to crawl out of the woodwork.

I glance over at my dad. We spent enough years working this land together, learned to read each other pretty well, and I see he’s thinking the same thing.

I’ve never wanted to keep Talia away from Luke. I’ve given her every opportunity to be a part of his life, even if she hasn’t taken those chances.

I think it hurts me more than it hurts Luke. For him, she’s not a factor. For me, she should have been. I can’t wrap my head around missing him growing up, but I’ll never shame her for it, and I’ll never gatekeep our son so long as she isn’t hurting him.

“We need to talk about the reunion, Cade,” my dad says. “Come for lunch? You and I can do some planning.”

“Willa too!” Luke is already dragging her up to the house, his tiny hand clamped around hers.

“It’s her day off, pal,” I remind him, seeing the line between everything blur and desperately trying to keep it in place.

She glances down at Luke and over at me. “It’s okay. I don’t need a day off from you, buddy. You’re one of my favorite people in the world.”

My heart stutters in my chest, and I suck in a sharp breath. The way Luke smiles, the way he stands just a little bit taller, makes the bridge of my nose sting.

I scrunch it up and give it a wipe before looking away. Then I stride to the house, head down, so no one will see the emotion in my eyes.

But I don’t need to look at my dad for him to know. After all, who knows their son better than a single dad? Before he retired, we spent long days on the range together, so it’s damn near impossible to keep anything from each other.

“You’ve got it bad, boy,” is what he says, clapping me on the shoulder as I move past him.

And he’s never been more right.