He's My Daddy Now

Chapter 2

*Jim*

I lean back on the couch, placing my hat on the empty seat beside me. It’s been a hell of a week, and it’s not over yet. One of my hands has a birthday today, and I promised to join them at the bar. I suppose I’ll be picking up the tab, too.

I sigh and stumble to the shower, turning the water as hot as I can stand it. These old joints don’t bounce back the way that they used to. I’d hoped to leave the ranch to Ava someday, but she doesn’t want it. Maybe she’ll change her mind, but I can’t imagine her ever out here in the dirt.

I let the warmth soothe my aching muscles before plopping some shampoo in my hair. I need a haircut, but who has the time? It’s flopping into my eyes all the time, though. Rinsing my hair, I wash my face with the fancy soap my daughter got me. Something about using it so I won’t look my age. I don’t know. It seems like a waste of money, but she put a lot of thought into it, so I use it every day.

I lather my body with soap, running it across the scar on my arm. The scar is a constant reminder of the day I finally decided to leave. Andrea was always a crazy b***h, but she’d actually stabbed me that day. I went to the hospital and had them stitch my arm before I packed my bags. She was a good mother, but she was a terrible wife, so I left the city she loved so much and came back to the ranch.

My Dad welcomed me with open arms, but he died shortly after. The workload was so much that I rarely was able to bring Ava out here because there was no one to watch her when I was out in the field. I sigh, remembering just how much she hated me for it when I tried to reconnect. She pushed me away time and time again, but finally, a few months ago, she decided to let me in.

She said her new boyfriend encouraged her, and I’m forever thankful to him for it, though she still won’t let me meet him. I’ve quickly learned that anything about our relationship should be handled gently and on her terms, so I’ll wait until she’s ready.

I dress, pulling on some jeans and a plaid button-up shirt. Who am I trying to impress? I grab a belt but turn back, looking at the buckles. I grab one from a state championship won long ago and smirk. It was one of the best days of my life- before Andrea’s crazy ass and responsibilities came.

I grab some pomade and slick back my too-long hair, hoping it’ll stay back for the evening. I’ll sort the haircut later. I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. It’ll do. I head to the door, pull on brown, square-toed boots, and hop in the truck.

When I arrive at Lenny’s, the guys are all there, and the cheap beer is flowing. I shake my head, wishing I was that age again. The days before Andrea and all her s**t. The days before I had to run the ranch. The days when I was young. I’m not old- not really. I just turned forty a few months ago. We got married young and had Ava before we should have. Years of my youth were wasted on that b***h.

“Boss!” one of my guys calls out, waving me over as if I didn’t see them. You can’t miss them as they take shots and laugh loudly. “You came!”

“I said I would,” I tell them before walking to the bar and handing the girl my card. “They’re all on me. Give me two fingers of whatever your best whiskey is.”

“Yes, Mr. Johnston,” she says, blinking her lashes at me.

It’s not my body she’s interested in but the money. Women just don’t understand. I’m land-rich, but I don’t have a high cash flow. Until last year, the ranch was barely breaking even. I took out a huge loan and built my own processing plant so we can now sell our own beef. It’s been profitable, but with the payments on the loan, it’s going to be a while before I’m what I’d call rich. Still, I’m comfortable. I’m even more comfortable now that I quit paying child support to Andrea and just give Ava what she needs directly.

I sit at the bar, trying to avoid the ruckus of my guys as another round of shots is poured. The bartender tries to hand me one, but I decline. She scowls, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s not at me but the young woman who just walked through the door.

“City girl has been here every night this week,” she tells me. “She don’t belong here.”

I tilt my head, drinking her in, and smile. No, she doesn’t belong here at all. Her long hair hangs in perfect curls, brown with honey streaks throughout. Her bright blue eyes shine as she looks at me, a sweet smile on her face. She’s wearing a long sun dress that flows but somehow lands on what appear to be delicious curves.

I turn my head quickly. She’s probably not even my daughter’s age, but I can’t help but glance as she takes the seat beside me, and I see the sweetest little toes poking out from the edge of her dress.

“Back again?” the bartender asks gruffly.

“Umm, yes…” she says, unsure. “Could I have a white wine?”

The bartender huffs but goes to pour the glass and puts it down in front of her roughly before walking off.

Tenderly, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip before making a face. “This is terrible,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh. Who would walk into a place like this and think they’d have good wine? “I’m not even sure what I did to her.”

I laugh loudly, turning to look at her. “You ordered wine. You’re not from around here, are you?”

She shakes her head, causing her diamond earrings to glint as her hair sways back and forth over them. “No. I’m from the city.”

I nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I just like the bar,” she shrugs. “It’s not as crowded. Sometimes you just need a break, you know?”

Oh, I know. I know all too well. I stretch my hand out toward her. “Jim Johnston,” I tell her.

“Emmy,” she says with a smile, placing her delicate hand in mine with nails that match her toes. No last name. Interesting.

“So, how did you even find this place?” I ask.

She shrugs again. “Just came upon it one day and wanted a drink. It’s far less crowded… and usually quiet.”

I smile at her. “Those are my guys. They’re celebrating a birthday tonight. You should join them.”

She shakes her head and takes a sip of her wine. “I think I’ll pass,” she says. “I’m more of a sit at the bar in the quiet kind of gal.”

I can see in her eyes that’s a lie, or maybe it once was, but not anymore. No matter. I’ll be out of here and headed home before too long, leaving her to make her way over to the boys eventually.

“So,” she says. “Jim is short for James.”

I chuckle a bit. “A reasonable assumption, but no. My legal name is Jim. Just Jim. My mom was a big fan of the Doors and was in mourning for quite some time over the loss.”

“Is your middle name Morrison?” she teases, but she freezes when she sees my face. “Oh my God, it is.”

“Like I said, she was a big fan,” I tell her with a small laugh. Most people don’t even bother to ask.

She smiles, and it’s breathtaking, but no. She’s far too young for me to look at her this way. But she tilts her head and leans forward to order another glass of wine, and I can’t help but drink her in. One time wouldn’t hurt, right?

I lean toward her, placing my hand on her leg. “It’s getting pretty crowded in here now,” I point out, though crowded isn’t exactly the word I’d use. There’s a handful of people, but still, I want to get her alone. “Follow me. There’s a patio out back.”

She nods and stands, looking at me in confusion as I lift her glass to carry it for her. I offer her my elbow, and while she still looks just as confused, she slowly slips her fingers into it. There’s a chill in the evening air, so I lead her over to a seat by a fire and place her glass on the small table beside it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, taking a seat. “I didn’t know this was here. It’s really nice.”

She’s glancing around at the little lights hung overhead like it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. “If you think these lights are beautiful, then you should see the sky out at my ranch. It’s so dark that you can see every star like it’s right above you and not lightyears away.”

“I’d like that,” she says softly with a shy smile.

---------------------------

“Here,” I tell her, taking the blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. I hadn’t actually meant to bring her out here, but she said she wanted to, and I know I want to spend more time with her. Having her here, though, suddenly seems like I’m a dirty old man.

“How old are you?” I finally ask.

“Twenty-two,” she tells me, not looking away from the sky.

I nearly choke at her words. She’s too young. She’s the same age as my daughter. Hell, she may even know her. I wasn’t around enough to know any of her friends, but I’ve never heard her talk about an Emmy since we’ve reconnected.

“Are you alright?” she asks. I turn to her, the stars twinkling reflected in her eyes.

“Yeah, Darlin,” I say, putting my arm around her.

She brings her hand up to where mine rests on her shoulder and leans into me with a small sigh. If I’m really going to do this, I’m going to need another drink. I go back inside, leaving her to stare up at the stars, and pour us both a drink, making mine a double.

I never bring women home. Sure, one-night stands happen, but I always go to her place. Something about the way she looked at the lights, though, made me want to bring her here. I wanted her here, looking up at the sky from the land I own. I want her here and in MY bed. I‘ll have to take her back to her car in the morning, but that just means she’ll be sleeping in my bed.

“I don’t have any wine,” I tell her as she takes the glass from my hand. “I hope some whiskey will do.”

She smiles and takes a sip. “I like it. It just gets me too drunk too fast.”

“Well, you’re not driving tonight,” I tell her, waiting for her response, but she doesn’t say anything. She wants to be here, too. “You’re beautiful, Emmy. Truly stunning.”

I swear, even in the darkness, her cheeks turn the sweetest shade of pink as she looks down, trying to hide behind her hair. Her reaction nearly makes me sick. She IS beautiful, and she clearly hasn’t heard it enough in her lifetime.

I reach over and tilt her face toward me. Even out here with just the stars, I can see a sweet smattering of freckles across her face. Her lips are full and parted as she looks up and f**k it. She wants this as much as I do.

“Do you want to come in?” I ask.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she says with a smile.