Page 26 of Reckless Single Daddy

I promise, Sloane.

Chapter twelve

Sloane

It’s been a few days since my date with Cade, and the full impact of it hasn’t set in yet. The reality is that it should have been perfect. Everything he had planned was a dream come true for me and catered to all my interests—well, except for the fancy dinner; I haven’t been to many of those. Still, everything was tailored perfectly, except for the part where it mattered most: the conversation.

But no matter how beautiful the night was, without stimulating conversation—much less him showing he’s genuinely interested in me—then we will be forever stuck as a fling. It’s not something I want to think about, but it is, unfortunately, a necessary evil.

We were doomed before we even began.

Perhaps we were never destined to be anything more than a fling. We are completely different people with polar opposite lives. He is a billionaire “philanthropist,” and I’m an artist who’s managed to have one measly stroke of luck. He’s also a decade older than me. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me—age is just a number—but he’s had more experience in life than I have. He’s seen and done things that I’ve barely scratched the service of. At least, I think he has.

Not to mention, he has a son. Was he married before, and if so, why did no one tell me?

Truthfully, the Cade Hart everyone else knows isn’t the one I know, because I don’t know him at all. I left for art school, and I never looked back. Cade was long gone doing Lord knows what and would only return at the most bizarre times.

He showed up at my high school graduation with Mike. It was sweet but completely unnecessary. He didn’t show up to Christmas or Thanksgiving or the months leading up to them, though. It didn’t make sense, and I remember Mike being disappointed, but notthatdisappointed. It always felt like he knew more than he let on, but Mike is Cade’s best friend, so that was only natural.

But now is a completely different story. Cade is actively attempting to pursue something with me. Whatever it is, I’mstill unsure, but it’s something. Does he only want occasional hookups to get his rocks off until I return to the city? Is he hiding his feelings in a poor attempt to protect himself? And to what lengths is he willing to go to pursue whatever this is with me?

The entire situation is toxic. I didn’t sign up to return to Rose Valley to hook up with my brother’s best friend, and I certainly didn’t sign up to be stuck in the equivalent of writer’s block for an artist, but here I am in both. I’m two years shy of my dirty thirty, and the last thing I want is to be involved in this unnecessary drama. All I want is to keep striving for success in the career I’ve advocated for ever since I discovered it.

Is that so wrong?

I hate this feeling. Not just the Cade situation, but that letter rattled me. It left my skin crawling and tension rolling up my spine. I notified Mike after I got it, hoping that the local police would at least have some inkling of what to do. But despite how seriously Mike took it, he warned me that the likelihood that the rest of the police department would was another matter. Mike is my brother, so any potential harm against me will always be deadly serious to him, but it’s just one letter. Until there are others, the department will likely not give a shit—Mike’s words, not mine.

My phone vibrates beside me, and I see Mia’s name and photo appear on the screen. I ignore it for the tenth time in three days. Guilt washes over me as I know I’m failing at my responsibilities as her maid of honor, but I can’t tell her about all of this. I can’ttell her about Cade because she will surely tell Killian or, worse, Mike. I can’t tell her about the letter, either—like Mike already established, it’s one letter. While he is on alert, I fear Mia’s reaction will be the same as Cade’s: indifferent and explanatory. And he could be right; it could just be someone trying to scare me, or it’s some sort of prank.

But I’m not laughing, and why target me? I haven’t lived here in over a decade, and the one time I come visit, I’m being pranked?

Excuse me for calling bullshit.

No, this is personal. I can feel it, and if no one else will take it seriously, I will. And if that means flaking on Mia to protect myself, then so be it.

After a long-winded moment, my phone vibrates again, and it’s Mia.

That’s eleven times.

I stare at it for a few seconds as it continues to ring, wondering if I should send it to voicemail like the rest of her calls. I already came to the conclusion I was better off ignoring all of Mia’s calls and everyone else’s, but now I’m starting to second-guess myself.

I grumble under my breath, but as I reach for the phone, it stops ringing altogether. I sigh, allowing the relief to wash over me, until my door flies open and Mia walks in with her phone in hand.

She looks displeased, as expected. I could try to talk my way out of this, but what would be the point? I deserve every word she plans to level at me.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she says tersely.

Yeah, that much is evident. She had to drive all the way to our parents’ house just to get me to speak to her.

“Did I do something?” she asks. “Because unless I did something wrong, you shouldn’t ignore my calls when you’re my maid of honor.”

It’s condescending but valid. I’m here in Rose Valley for her, after all, not anyone else. There is no explanation for it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, as that’s the best and only response I can offer. I haven’t been there for her the way a maid of honor—a sister—should be. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own garbage that I’m failing her, and it isn’t right.

An eerie silence fills my childhood bedroom, and I’m left in this swirl of doubt with Mia. I wouldn’t blame her if she decided tomake one of her friends her maid of honor instead of me now. But isn’t it too late?

“What’s going on with you?” she asks, and I look up as she stares at me with a mix of concern and frustration. Concern wasn’t what I expected to see, but I don’t blame her for it. My entire family knows I’ve kept my distance from them for a while, so this behavior isn’t exactly new.

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