Reckless Heat (Steamy Small Town Romances #5)

1. Stan

Chapter one

Stan

My best friend Lucas is grinning at me across the kitchen table like he just won the lottery.

He pours me a drink. “We’re fucking rich!”

The smoky scent of aged scotch fills my nostrils. I sigh, already bracing myself for whatever Lucas considers “big news.” He has a habit of making mountains out of molehills, but who am I to burst his bubble?

My gaze drifts to the window, watching the people of Rose Haven go about their daily lives. I wonder if their problems are as complicated as mine. Most people would roll their eyes if I dared complain—after all, I’m Stan Holt. Thanks to the millions I rake in working with Selena Bishop, AKA Selena Hills, one of Hollywood’s hottest stars-turned-scriptwriter, I should be living on cloud nine.

The grinning idiot across from me? He’s not just my best friend. He’s also her husband.

I raise a brow. “The fuck you mean we’re rich?”

“I mean my business is booming, Selena’s been landing major roles, and you’ve been raking in millions.” Lucas spreads his arms wide. “I used to pray for times like this.”

“Not to burst your bubble, but I’ve always been rich. Thanks to dear old Dad.” I chuckle.

“You and Samantha always say that.” He shrugs. “Anyway, let’s play some video games. I’m destroying your ass. Pause.”

Normally that would’ve earned him a retort, but something else he said snagged my attention.

Samantha.

“How is Sam, by the way?” I keep my tone casual.

Lucas lifts his gaze. “You don’t talk to her anymore?”

“No.” I avoid his eyes, focusing on the console and pulling up a game. “And may I remind you, you rarely talk about her either. I’ve been busy.”

“She’s doing okay. She’ll be visiting soon to see Alex and Selena.”

Alex—Lucas and Selena’s son—is at his friend Layla’s for a sleepover. Selena’s getting a much-deserved mom night, which is why Lucas and I are hanging out at my place.

But the second he mentioned Samantha, my thoughts scattered.

Samantha Knight. His maternal cousin, practically his sister. The girl I’ve been half in love with since we were kids—and the one woman I can never have. She’s got both brains and brawn, unlike Lucas. Last I heard, she’s living in Chicago with her boyfriend.

I can only hope she’s happy.

“You okay, dude?” Lucas asks, catching my silence.

I take a deep breath and clap a hand on his shoulder. “Just already filled with pity for you once I destroy you.”

Lucas snorts. “You wouldn’t even—“

The doorbell interrupts him.

“You invited someone else?” Lucas frowns.

“Should be the pizza.” I grab my wallet and head for the door.

I open it expecting the usual twenty-something delivery guy. Instead, I’m staring down at a teenage girl with a massive grin on her face.

“Daddy!” she yells, throwing her arms around me.

I freeze. Confusion floods through me as I let her squeeze me for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one’s filming this absolutely bizarre scene.

“Okay…” I try to nudge her off, but her grip tightens. “Kid?”

“Hi Dad!” she squeals.

“Enough.” Annoyed now, I pry her off carefully, holding her shoulders so she doesn’t stumble. “Who are you?”

She frowns. “I literally just called you Dad. Or maybe you prefer Father? Daddy? Papa?”

I blink. “What?”

She groans. “I’m your daughter, dumb-dumb.”

“You are not!” The words come out sharper than I intended. I don’t have a child. I’m not even married.

“Can’t you see the resemblance?” She tilts her head, gesturing at her face.

I take a harder look. Dark brown hair. Nearly black eyes. She does look terrifyingly like me—just smaller, younger, and female. She’s wearing a black hoodie, her hair tied in a neat bun. Her jeans are faded, her shoes worn down.

But it’s not just her looks that unsettle me. It’s the bulky duffel bag at her feet and the backpack on her shoulders.

I swallow hard. “I’ll admit you look a little—“

“Pfft, a little?” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. Now that I’m looking closer, she’s about thirteen or fourteen.

A teenager. God help me.

“A little like me,” I finish. “But that doesn’t mean you can waltz in here and—“

She cuts me off, shrugging off her backpack and rummaging inside. “Here.” She shoves a brown envelope at me. “Read it.”

I take it and peek at the three papers inside for her sake. With a deep sigh, I say, “Look, I know how this works. Someone makes it into the spotlight, and suddenly offspring appear out of nowhere claiming paternity. I’m not buying it.”

Lucas joins us at the door. “Dude, how long does it take to get pizza?”

I gesture to the girl. “This kid thinks she’s my daughter.”

“I don’t think, I know,” she insists.

“Emphasis on the first statement,” I mutter.

“Maybe it’s my genes I inherited from you, shit-for- brains.”

Who the hell is this kid? “Why you little—“

“Nah, the kid looks a lot like you.” Lucas cuts me off. “She might be right.”

I shoot him a glare. He raises both hands in surrender.

“At least your bottom boyfriend here has eyes,” the girl says.

Now it’s Lucas’s turn to snap. “Listen, kid.”

“My name is Ruth.”

“Listen, Ruth.” Lucas points at her. “I can’t have you saying things like that. I’m not the bottom in this relationship, I’m the top. Your dad calls me Daddy.”

“Dude.” I shake my head at him.

“What? Your kid has your looks and your mouth. It’s a reflex.”

“You got that right.” Ruth nods, looking proud.

“I don’t have time for this. I don’t have a daughter.” I push the documents back at her. “Sorry for wasting your time. I’ll get you a cab.”

“You’re going to send a teenager back home at eight p.m.?” Lucas raises a brow.

I shrug. “I’ll put her in a hotel room.”

“Catherine Smithers.” Ruth’s voice cuts through the air. “That’s my mom.”

The name hits me like a punch to the gut. I exchange glances with Lucas, who’s wearing the same expression of dawning realization. We both stare at the envelope. Suddenly it feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.

I pull out the files to read them properly. One document is an official copy of the DNA sample I submitted to a genealogy company months ago. The second is a match result. The third is a family tree showing Stan Holt as the father, Catherine Smithers as the mother, and Ruth as the daughter.

It’s real. I know these documents. They can’t be easily forged. I thought I could play the doppelganger card and get out of this, but these files just sealed my fate.

“If you want, I saw a hospital on my drive in.” Ruth smirks. “We can run an additional test. But it’s late, and I know you need your beauty sleep.”

This foul-mouthed girl is a tiny female replica of me.

“Right. I think I need to go check in on Selena.” Lucas backs toward the door.

“But what about…” I plead. I need him here.

He pats my shoulder. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to figure this one out on your own, buddy.”

With that, he leaves after bidding us good night.

I’m left alone with Ruth.

“This may be overwhelming, and I’m sorry for showing up unannounced.” She picks up her duffel bag, voice softer now. “I have enough money for a motel tonight.”

“You’re not going to a motel,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face.

Her eyes light up. “Thanks, Dad.”

I groan. Being called “Dad” is something I’ll never get used to.

Not in a million years.