Page 42 of Taming His Brat

“Charlie and I grew up together. We’ve been friends since we were kids and nothing you can do is going to tear us apart,” he retorted. His hands twitched and he balled them into fists. “If you really think Charlie wants some fancy boy with an office job and suit than you don’t know her at all. She loves the ranch. She loves this life, and you might have her fooled right now, but she’s going to see through you eventually.”

She sniffed and tossed her hair back. “She doesn’t know any better, not yet. But we’ve been talking about traveling. I’m going to show her there’s more out there and when she sees it, she won’t want to be held down here.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “Charlie knows plenty about what’s out there. She went to college across the country, and then grad school. She’s been on trips all over the country. She even went to Europe one summer. I don’t know why you seem to think she’s some naïve kid who’s never been off the spread, but you’re dead wrong. She’s been out there, she saw it, and she still wanted this life.”

Vicky looked taken aback, but then she shook it off. “College is different. It’s not the real world.”

Vicky didn’t seem to know her daughter any better than Charlie knew her mother. It seemed like they each had an image of the other that just didn’t match up to the reality. It would be funny if it wasn’t going to end up hurting his girl.

“If you say so, but the fact is I know your daughter better than you do. She’s happy here, or at least she was before you came. If you really care about her, you’ll stop whatever you’re doing and let her have the life she wants.” He put every bit of cold Dom voice into the words. Not that he thought it would help, but he wanted her to know he was serious.

“Who are you to tell me how to treat my own daughter?” Vicky’s voice was reaching screeching levels and it made his head hurt like nails on a blackboard. “You have no right! How dare you!”

He had a feeling Charlie wouldn’t be happy if he pointed out that he was her Dom and responsible for her, though he was tempted. “I’m her partner and her friend, and I love her. That gives me the right.”

She glared, practically shaking with anger. “You’re just a field hand. You’re not good enough for her and I’ll make sure she sees that.”

“Okay, you do that, lady. But in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you kept your nose out of the ranch. If I hear you’ve been calling around and asking if anyone wants to buy it, you and I are gonna have some words you won’t like. Legal ones.” It was partly a bluff. He didn’t really have any proof and wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done was against the law anyway.

The furniture sale had definitely been sketchy, but Charlie had already forgiven that, and he had no legal authority over the house, only the ranch. But he wanted to see how she reacted to him throwing it out there like he knew for sure it was her.

He wasn’t disappointed. The shocked, pinched look on her face said it all. She stammered out denials, but they didn’t sound authentic. He just cocked a half smile, one eyebrow up like he was amused that she was even trying.

It seemed to set her off and soon there wasn’t even a hint of composure. He had to admit he’d done it on purpose just to see what she’d do when she lost control. He was hoping she’d slip up and admit to her real intentions.

Instead, she started throwing out insults that lacked any subtlety at all, and eventually he snapped back. He should have put a stop to it then and left, but maybe it was time for it to all come to a head. Still, the slap took him by surprise and for a second they both stared at each other.

He might have deserved it. He’d been so angry he wasn’t even sure what he’d said, but it had probably been mean. Next thing he knew Vicky’s hand lashed out and slapped him hard. His head rocked back, and his own hand had come up instantly in response.

It hovered there for a second and then he let it drop. “Keep your hands to yourself. Next time you hit me I’ll return the favor,” he said coldly. He’d never hit a woman in anger. Never hit one outside of the consensual kind of slapping that had a very different tone to it, but he was sorely tempted at the moment.

He turned on his heel and stalked away before he gave in to that temptation, calling over his shoulder, “Tell Charlie I’m going to get a hotel room for the night, so I can calm down.”

Maybe she’d give her daughter the message, or maybe she wouldn’t. He didn’t trust her so when he swung by the cabin to grab some things, he left a quick note on the table. That way if Charlie came looking, she wouldn’t worry. Then he tossed a duffle bag in the front seat of his truck and took off.

There weren’t a lot of choices for accommodations in town. If he felt like making a drive, there was a fancy one near the freeway offramp that picked up all the tourist trade. But it was the seedy local motel down the road that he headed for. People joked that it was always easy to get a room there because most people only used it for an hour or two.

It wasn’t terrible though. The units were worn but clean, and stocked with the usual amenities. The widow who ran it added homey little touches that you didn’t normally find in a cheap motel. When he checked in, he left the office with an ancient plastic keychain holding a metal key, and a plate full of fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies. The cookies were definitely worth the price of letting her talk his ear off for a full fifteen minutes.

He’d already eaten two by the time he moved his truck down to the unit on the end. “Lucky number thirteen… that’s not ominous or anything,” he muttered as he tried to balance the duffle and the plate so he could unlock the door.

He dropped his bag on the bed and sighed. He’d hoped to be home right now with Charlie in his arms, not looking at peeling wallpaper that had to be at least fifty years old. But a little space between him and Vicky wasn’t a terrible thing. He still couldn’t believe she’d slapped him.

The whole situation made him tired. His head was pounding from a tension headache and he was tempted to flop on the bed and go to sleep. Instead, he stripped and headed for the shower. The steam would help, and he planned to use up every drop of hot water.

But like most of his plans, things fell apart. Fifteen minutes in, with the bathroom shrouded in billowing clouds of steam, there was a knock on the door to his room. He assumed it was a mistake and ignored it, but it came again, longer and louder. At that point he started wondering if it was an angry husband who had the wrong room. If so, it would probably be better to ignore it.

But then he thought about Charlie. Her mother might have told her after all, or she might have seen the note saying he was getting a room for the night and it wasn’t like there were many choices. He shut off the water and yelled, “One second!” through the open doorway.

He grabbed a towel with a fraying hem from a stack on the sink and wrapped it around his waist as he left the bathroom. The idea of answering the door for an angry lover, dressed in nothing but a towel, wasn’t that appealing but by then the knocking was almost nonstop. He was beginning to worry that any neighbors hoping for a romantic nooner were going to be seriously pissed by the noise. “I’m coming, damn it!”

He actually paused to laugh as he thought about how many times the walls had probably heardthatparticular phrase—though with an entirely different context. Might even have heard it from him or Charlie. Back in the day they’d had occasion to slip away and grab a room together. Even though he’d had his own place on the ranch it hadn’t always been easy getting the privacy with her dad around.

He was still amused when he yanked open the door so suddenly that Charlie stumbled forward, hand still raised to bang again. He caught and steadied her. “Charlie, damn girl, you—”

“Sam, just listen, okay? Please, I know you’re really pissed, and I don’t blame you,” she said. The words blurted as if she was trying to get them in fast.

“I’m not p—”

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