Page 1 of Reckless Single Daddy

Chapter one

Rose Valley

Chapter two

Sloane

“Rising Star Sloane Bennett: Can she recreate the magic from her debut collection?”

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read this same headline in the latestArtist’s Digest, but it’s hard to look away. You know the saying, “Bad press is good press”? Well, this feels much worse than just bad press. The pressure on me for my next exhibition feels like a mounting swell of never-ending ocean waves that constantly smack over me with no room to breathe.

It’s horrifying.

“Ugh.” I close the magazine, having enough of my existential crisis for one afternoon. Besides, I’m supposed to enjoy my time away from the city. Mia is getting married to Killian—finally—and as her younger sister, I approve.

It feels like they’ve been together forever, but I guess it’s par for the course when you’ve been literally attached at the hip since high school. Yeah, it’s that kind of love. They were smart about it, though. They waited until they had life figured out. They finished school, went to college, graduated, and landed jobs in their respective fields. If I could paint a picture of the perfect life—and I probably could—Mia and Killian would be the two protagonists. I give them crap for being disgustingly cute, but really, Killian treats her the way I hoped she would, and that’s all I could ask for.

The bus continues along the stretch of road, flawlessly transitioning from the bustling New York cityscape to upstate New York—the part no one really associates with the state, which is less high-traffic and more countryside and quaint suburbs. Ever since that opinion piece was released, I never realized how much I truly missed my hometown of Rose Valley. Everything felt simpler and less stressful there. Sometimes, I close my eyes while sitting in front of my computer, imagining myself lying in the grove after enjoying a serene picnic and taking a pontoon boat on the marina. Times were simpler then, but now it feels like the pressure will never cease.

The bus slows as it passes the sign for Rose Valley. I haven’t been back home in over a decade, but this is home. The entire town is rooted in my memory as we near the bus stop. It slowly turns in and comes to a complete stop not soon after.

Getting off the bus is the first time I feel genuinely relaxed in years—the fresh air, the silence aside from people meeting up with their loved ones. Relaxation washes over me that I didn’t know I could feel. Maybe this trip is exactly what I need. Sure, I’m here for an obligation to my family, but it’s a welcome respite from what I’ve allowed to become my everyday chaos.

I get my bag and walk over to the exit, passing by a stand full of the local newspaper—yes, we still have those. But I stop short, reading the headline.

“Hart Inc. and Rose Valley Marina Secure Deal.”

Secure deal?

And… wait a minute.

Is that Cade? Cade Hart?

I can’t believe it. My feet have rendered me unable to move from the front cover of theRose Valley Times.Cade looks… handsome. I mean, he’salwaysbeen handsome, but he’s aged very well. The last time I saw him was right before I left for college.

I sigh. I bet he’s married by now. He’s Cade Hart, and he’s always been the kind of guy that every girl wanted. Either they couldn’t have him, or he made it difficult for them to pursue him. He was the true definition of a player when he and Mike were seniors in high school, but my eight-year-old self thought he was the most beautiful human in existence.

Unfortunately for me, every other girl in town thought the same about him—and probably still does. He always had that effect on people.

I reach for the newspaper, only to stop short when a horn sounds behind me. I look behind me and see Mike waving me over to him. I immediately smile in his direction, forgetting all about the newspaper and Cade Hart.

I walk over to him as he gets out of his car. He rushes around and pulls me into a bear hug, the best kind I could ever ask for from my big brother. He pulls back, smiling widely.

“I thought I’d have to start calling your PR person or agent or whatever to convince you to come back home,” he says, laughing as he takes my bag.

I roll my eyes, walking with him to the back of the car. “That’s not what they’re hired for, you know.”

He smiles softly, placing my bag in the back, and then looks over at me, content and warm. It feels like an oversized blanket has just engulfed us, creating a bubble of comfort.

“My apologies, Picasso,” he replies, bowing to me.

I sigh, shaking my head in annoyance as he closes the trunk and walks back to the driver’s side. We both get inside the car.

“You know I always hated when you and Cade would call me that,” I tell him.

He chuckles softly, which, as welcoming of a sound as it is, doesn’t discount what I’ve said. Ever since I started wanting to make a name for myself in the art world, Mike and Cade always called me “Picasso.” I know it’s out of love or because, in some strange way, it was their way of saying I stack up to his greatness. But all it did was place more pressure on me.

No, Sloane, I think to myself. You’re not in NYC right now. You’re in Rose Valley, your safe haven. There is no place for stress here. Everyone here thinks of you as a success, remember?

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