Page 77 of The Naughty Elf

It sounds true enough, and I can’t argue that it isn’t. They can’t keep me safe from what’s happening now.

“I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

“He’s really not worth it, Dad. Let Sheriff Bentley take care of it.”

My dad’s turned into a bull, seeing red and ready to charge, but after a few breaths, he calms down again.

Good, another disaster averted.

Now, if only I can turn my life around and figure out what to do with myself. I can’t let Dad see how much I’m still freaking out inside.

Dad packs away the leftovers in the fridge as I sink back into my couch. How do I tell him the worst bit of this all? That all of my protections, my precautions, led me right back to how I’d fucked my life up all those years ago.

Obsessed with an older man, I was taken by his bad boy clothes, his charming smile, and his motorcycle. Phil had been nineteen, and I didn’t once question why he was flirting with me. I’d just turned sixteen when my friends and I were out at the local burger place to meet Stacy’s new boyfriend, Ralph.

I’d made fun of his name until he pulled up on a Harley with his friend. The leather jacket and his good looks did something crazy to my teenage hormones.

And by God, when he smiled at just me—I couldn’t believe he wanted anything to do with me.

Dean made me feel special, wanted. He made me feel like the woman I desperately wanted to be, especially after being compared all my life to my mom’s grace and beauty.

The first three weeks of our whirlwind romance had been my best-kept secret until Ralph broke it off with Stacy for notputting out. I couldn’t lose Phil, so when he said he’d make it special for me, I gave him my virginity.

Four weeks—that’s all it took for him to con me out of something so precious.

The worst part was that he’d made me fall in love with him. After the first time, I saw him a handful more times, but they were rushed and focused on fucking until I found out I was pregnant.

Then, he was gone. Poof, like a magic trick.

I found out weeks and weeks later that his name wasn’t even Phil. It was a nickname. And I had no way to find him.

Not even with Dad’s help.

Now it’s going to happen again. Only it’ll be worse this time.

34

GINGER

Ashley sprawls across my couch behind Gracie, finger twiddling in the hair falling from her bun. She’s got smudges of paint across her chin on the left, and she reaches to swipe her wet brush across his skin, a determined look in her eyes.

He’s been teasing her for the last fifteen minutes, and the only reason I don’t intervene—other than the ever-present icky feeling in my middle—is the child-like joy they both show me when I clear my throat.

Is this what it would have been like having a father figure in her life? The thought sours my stomach even further. How bad is it going to hurt when I tell them I’m pregnant and they run out on all three of us?

I should be stronger than this, but I’m barely hanging on, waiting for the rug to be ripped out from under me.

Sawyer comes to the kitchen table, where I’ve parked myself with my laptop, half-heartedly playing with the spreadsheet for the July barbeque. I agreed two weeks ago to continue planning it, and it’s mostly done. I think.

My concentration hasn’t been the best.

Sawyer closes my computer and stuffs it in my backpack, the one I packed for my morning cafe visits after dropping Gracie off at school. He settles a small plate in its place and kisses the side of my head.

It’s a freshly baked pretzelbecause, of course, Sawyer learned how to make them and a side of beer cheese sauce. I’ve only been able to keep down a few things, and pretzels are one of them. The guys think I’m still recovering emotionally from Kaleb.

I feel like an ass for not correcting them.

They’ve been over every day, no longer hiding it from Dad or Gracie, but they’re alternating who spends the night. Tonight would usually be Jackson’s turn, but he has Emily this weekend.

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