Chapter Eighteen
Jamie
Jamie sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, water bottle in hand, watching Daddy Spencer swirl bourbon over ice like he was trying to calm something inside himself.
The silence between them was thick, heavier than the snow outside.
Jamie still didn’t understand what had happened between Daddy Spencer and Nathan—no goodbyes, no jokes, not even a glance when they were dropped off. Just silence. Cold and final.
Daddy Spencer sat beside him, close but not touching, and said quietly, “We need to talk.”
Jamie’s heart sank. Those words never led anywhere good.
His fingers tightened around the bottle, and he nodded, afraid to speak.
He didn’t know what this was about, but the fear crept in fast. Was this it?
Was Daddy Spencer going to tell him it was over?
That he’d changed his mind? That Jamie didn’t belong here after all?
Daddy Spencer took a slow breath. “I want you to come to Montana after the mixer. I want to spend Christmas with you.”
Jamie blinked. Christmas. Just Christmas.
Not forever. Not stay with me. Just a holiday.
A visit. His chest tightened, and he reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out his binky and slipping it into his mouth without thinking.
It was instinct—comfort, safety, something to hold on to when everything felt like it might fall apart.
He looked at Daddy Spencer, voice muffled but clear. “You want me for one week?”
Daddy Spencer turned to him, eyes soft but serious. “I want you to live with me, Jamie. I want you there. But if you change your mind, or if Montana doesn’t feel right, I’ll make sure you get back to California. No questions. No pressure.”
Jamie stared at him, binky still in place, heart thudding. He didn’t know how to explain it—how much he wanted this. Not just the trip. Not just the cabin. Daddy Spencer. The way he made him feel safe. Seen. Wanted.
“I’ll go with you,” Jamie said softly, pulling the binky out. “Wherever you are.”
Daddy Spencer didn’t say anything right away. He just reached over and took Jamie’s hand, holding it like a promise. And for the first time that night, the fear began to fade. Not completely. But enough to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t be left behind again.
Jamie sat curled on the couch, knees tucked under him, watching Daddy Spencer with quiet worry.
The bourbon in Daddy Spencer’s glass barely moved, but his eyes were distant—haunted, almost. Jamie could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his shoulders stayed tense even in the soft glow of the cabin. Something was wrong. Something deep.
Daddy Spencer’s voice broke the silence. “We’ll get your things from Tom’s Jeep before we leave. Then we’ll stop in Brentwood for the rest. When I make a promise, I keep it.”
Jamie nodded, pulling his binky from his mouth and setting it gently on the cushion beside him. He hesitated, then asked softly, “Why are you pissed at Nathan?”
Daddy Spencer didn’t answer right away. He stared into his glass as if it held the truth he didn’t want to say. “Nathan didn’t tell me things I should’ve known. He left me out of the equation—about our old band, about the mixer.”
Jamie’s heart thudded. “Can you tell me what he didn’t tell you?”
Daddy Spencer’s voice dropped, rough around the edges. “We had a drink at a bar. And my ex showed up. Billy. He used to be in our band. Then he fucked around with another member behind my back. Nathan knew. He knew Billy broke up with that guy and that he’s coming to the mixer.”
Jamie lowered his head, staring at his shoes. The name Billy echoed in his chest like a warning bell. He hated the thought of him being there. It was already hard enough knowing Tom would show up, but Billy? That was a different kind of threat. A deeper one.
What if Daddy Spencer still cared? What if Billy wanted him back? What if Daddy Spencer wanted to go?
Jamie’s throat tightened. “Are they still going to visit Christmas week?”
Daddy Spencer closed his eyes, as if the question pressed against something tender. “Of course. They’ll come for a week. Nathan and I have had words before and always made up. He owes me an apology, and when he’s ready, he’ll come to me.”
Jamie couldn’t take the distance anymore. He climbed over Daddy Spencer’s knees, settling into his lap, facing him. He wrapped his arms around Daddy Spencer’s neck and held him close, heart pounding with everything he couldn’t say.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” Jamie whispered. “I hate that the past still follows you.”
Daddy Spencer looked at him then, eyes soft and tired, and leaned in. His lips met Jamie’s in a kiss saying more than words ever could—I’m here. I choose you.
Jamie kissed him back, clinging to the moment, hoping it was enough to slow down the fear that maybe, just maybe, he’d lose this too.
“I’m so happy I found you, Jamie. I want you to know I’m not perfect, but when it comes to you, no one will take you. Trust that I don’t want anything to do with Billy. He might talk to you and say shit about me.”
“I don’t know if I’m more afraid of Tom or Billy.”
“No reason to be afraid of either with me. I’m a lot stronger than you can imagine.”
“Will I get strong like you on the ranch?”
“There’s a college in Missoula, and you can finish up. When you’re not studying or in class, I’ll teach how to help me if you want.”
When Jamie’s phone rang, he picked it up.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Alfie asked.
“Sort of, but I’m moving in with Daddy Spencer after the mixer.”
“Wow! That’s good news. Are you nervous about the mixer?”
“Yes.”
“You need a distraction. Do you want to help bake cookies tomorrow?”
“I’ll ask and get back to you.”
They ended their call.
“I want to take you to a secret place tonight.” Daddy Spencer’s lips were warm against Jamie’s, slow and steady, the kind of kiss that made Jamie forget everything else.
He leaned into it, heart fluttering, fingers curled into Daddy Spencer’s shirt.
Just as he was starting to melt into the moment, a knock at the cabin door broke the quiet.
Daddy Spencer pulled back with a sigh, his brow already furrowed. Jamie followed him to the door, curious but uneasy. The cold air rushed in as Daddy Spencer opened it—and standing there was a guy Jamie had never seen before.
Tall. Lean. Long blond hair that fell past his shoulders in messy waves. Blue eyes, sharp and cold. Dressed head to toe in black—tight jeans, boots, a leather jacket. Tattoos peeked out from his collar, and a silver ring glinted in his eyebrow. He looked like trouble. Gorgeous trouble.
Jamie felt his stomach flip, not with attraction, but with nerves. Daddy Spencer’s face turned red the second he saw him.
“I’m here to say I’m sorry for acting like an ass in the bar today,” the guy said, voice smooth but cocky. “I wanted to talk more with you. There are things you need to know.”
Daddy Spencer didn’t flinch. “There’s not a fucking thing I need to know from you. Who told you where I was?”
“I asked the owner.” His eyes flicked to Jamie, narrowing. “Is that your husband?”
Jamie felt his pulse spike. The way Billy looked at him—like he was sizing him up, like he didn’t belong—made his skin crawl.
“Yes,” Daddy Spencer said, firm.
Billy tilted his head. “Can I come in and talk?”
“No.”
Billy scoffed and then pointed at Jamie. “You could do better than him.”
Jamie’s chest tightened. Anger surged up fast. “Get the hell out of here!” he shouted, voice shaking.
Billy rolled his eyes, then gave Jamie a cruel smile. “Why did your Daddy Tom dump you?”
Jamie froze. That name hit like a slap. His stomach dropped, and his breath caught in his throat. How did he know? Why would he say that?
Daddy Spencer stepped to him, wrapping an arm around Jamie’s shoulders, pulling him close. “That’s enough,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Leave. Now.”
Billy didn’t move, just kept his eyes on Jamie, which made him so angry.
He moved forward and slammed the door shut, then quickly locked it.
Jamie peered through the window to make sure he was still standing at the door.
Billy turned and walked off into the snow as if he hadn’t just stirred up a storm.
Jamie stood there, heart pounding, trying to breathe. Daddy Spencer held him tighter, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re safe,” he whispered. “He doesn’t get to touch you. Not now. Not ever.”
Jamie nodded, burying his face in Daddy Spencer’s chest. He didn’t know what Billy wanted, but he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going anywhere his Daddy Spencer wasn’t.