Page 43 of Taming His Brat

“Please, just give me a chance to talk, okay?” Her dark eyes, just like her mother’s down to the shape and color, filled with tears.

Despite the physical similarities he was struck for a moment by how different they looked. Where Vicky’s were cold and seemed to be shaded with secrets and machinations, Charlie’s were warm and showed every emotion.

“Okay, you’ve got the floor.” He stepped back to let her into the room so he could close the door. He doubted the reputation of the Hideaway could get any worse, but half-naked men standing in doorways probably wasn’t going to help much.

He took a seat on the end of the bed and watched as she began to pace back and forth. The pure nervous energy she was exuding had his skin stippling with goosebumps. After several minutes of silence, he cleared his throat to get her attention. “Are you going to talk or just wear a hole in the carpet?”

She stopped short. “Sorry. I just … I was afraid you wouldn’t even give me a chance to talk, and then I wanted to make sure I said everything right.” She took a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together.

“I guess … I need to start with apologizing. I’m so sorry. You were right. You were right about everything and I should have listened. I wanted—I wanted so much for her to be the way I’d dreamed her all my life that I didn’t want to hear what you were saying.” She looked down, hands clasped together, fingers twisting, as if the energy simply had to find a new outlet.

“Charlie, I get—”

“Please!” Her head snapped up, cutting him off and he sighed and waved for her to go on. “You’re my Daddy and I should have listened to you. By not taking what you said into account I disrespected that relationship, as well as the romantic one. And then I moved out. That was the worst thing. I should never—I promised I was done with running, but then I ran.” Her voice shook. Tears started to track down her cheeks.

It was taking everything he had not to interrupt her and pull her into his arms. His hands knotted in the towel and there was a small tearing sound as the worn old thing ripped from the tension.

“I just thought that if I stayed up at the house with her, she’d settle down, and you two wouldn’t fight. It was only going to be a couple of weeks, but I should have at least talked to you first. And I deserve any punishment you want to give me, but please, please don’t leave me Sam. Please come home.”

Towards the end the words burst from her like a plea and he realized that she thought he had left for good. Not for a night away from the ranch to cool down, but permanently. Although his first instinct was to drag her into his lap and reassure her that he’d always planned to come back, he didn’t.

There were a few things he wanted to know first. “You said I was right. That must mean you figured something out about Vicky. Want to tell me about it?”

“Oh—fuck. Right. You need to read this.” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a folded, worn-looking envelope and handed it to him.

Both eyebrows went up as he reached for it. “Is this the letter from Jimmy?”

She nodded.

He unfolded it carefully and smoothed it out in his lap. “You sure you want me to read this?”

“Yes. I wish—oh, why didn’t I read it after the funeral? It would have saved so much trouble. Damn it.” She pounded her thigh with a closed fist, hard enough that it had to hurt.

He frowned. “Knock that off, before you bruise yourself.” It was difficult not to add “If anyone is going to bruise your thighs it will be me,” but he was trying to play it cool until everything was sorted. “And have a seat. I can’t read this if you’re bouncing all over the place.”

She perched on the edge of the bed next to him, and watched as he pulled the letter out of the envelope and began to read. By the time he was done, he was wishing he’d insisted she read the letter earlier too—or at least suggested it strongly. He understood the many reasons why she’d put it off but if they’d known about Vicky from the start things would have gone very differently when she showed up.

“Well. What are you going to do about her now?” he asked, one eyebrow going up in question. It was still going to have to be her choice unless she asked him to make it for her. He was sticking to that.

“It’s done. I told her to pack and go before I left to come find you.” She said it simply, without looking up at him. Her eyes were fixed on her hands as they rested in her lap.

He kept his voice neutral. “You sure it was a good idea to leave her there? I mean I wouldn’t trust her not to clear the house of any valuables on her way out.”

“Well…” There she was gnawing at her lip again. It would be a bloody mess before she was done. She was worried about telling him something and he wanted to know what it was.

“Charlie?”

“She won’t do anything else because if she does, she won’t get the money I promised her.” She snuck a nervous look in his direction and then flinched away when she found him watching her.

He was confused, stunned really, but he wanted to understand. “After you found all this out, why would you give her anything?” He tried to be gentle with the question, but he wasn’t sure if he was successful.

“It’s just … she’s not all bad. There were a lot of things that I think were real. I do think she loves me. Even Dad thought so.” She waved her hand at the letter.

“Yes, but he also made it clear he didn’t think you were ever the top of her list.”

“I don’t need to be, especially not now after all these years. It was nice having a mom, getting to live out all those fantasies I had as a kid, but I don’t really need to be the focus of anyone’s world, except yours.”

He so badly wanted to wrap an arm around her when she said that. As if she could ever not be the most important thing in his life. Even before he’d become her Daddy, she’d meant everything to him. He really didn’t see that changing any time soon.

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