May’s Bad Boy: Kody (Bad Boys of Mustang Mountain #5)

1. Kody

CHAPTER 1

KODY

The gravel under my tires crunches like bones. I hate that thought, but I can't shake it. Something about coming to Mustang Mountain makes old ghosts stir. They never really went quiet to begin with.

The bed of my old truck rattles as I turn down the drive that leads to Shane's ranch. Dust swirls up in the rearview, catching the orange late-afternoon light like smoke. I glance at Sadie in the backseat—she's pressed her nose against the window, wide-eyed, her little bear hugged tight to her chest.

"It's quiet here," she whispers.

"Yeah," I murmur, eyes fixed ahead. "Let's hope it stays that way."

The ranch stretches out in front of us, beautiful and peaceful in that way small towns always look from a distance—like they've never seen pain, never heard the sound of a gavel coming down, never watched a man lose everything.

Sadie gasps. "Daddy, look! Horsies!"

I smile, a small one, but real. "They're called horses, baby. But yeah. Pretty cool, huh?"

She nods solemnly, absorbing it all like a sponge. Her world has been shaken too many times already. I want this to be her calm.

We roll to a stop near the main house just as Shane comes out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag. He's still got that same easy swagger, that cool-headed steadiness that made him the only one I trusted to call when everything went to hell again.

He lifts a hand to me as I step out of the truck. "You got heavier since the last time I saw you, man."

I snort. "Pretty sure you're just getting older."

Sadie peeks around me, then bolts toward him. "Hi! Are you the cowboy?"

Shane laughs, crouching down. "Well now, I suppose I am. You must be Miss Sadie."

She nods, proud, like it's a title.

He winks at her. "You like horses?"

"I love them."

"We'll have to introduce you to Miss Maple later. She's our gentlest girl and also new to the ranch."

"Maple like syrup?" she asks, eyes lighting up.

Shane grins. "Exactly like that."

Behind him, Caitlin appears with a juice box and a warm smile that could melt any defense I try to keep up. "I come bearing peace offerings," she says, offering the box to Sadie. "And maybe a few animal crackers."

Sadie squeals. "Thank you!"

I blink hard. She's only four. She shouldn't have had to learn how to accept kindness like it's a surprise.

"Come on," Shane says, slapping my shoulder. "Let's get you settled. We have a two-bedroom cabin that Levi just finished up yesterday. We figured it'd feel better having your own space for now."

I nod. "Appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. There are still a lot of fences that need mending out here."

I arch a brow. "That a job offer?"

He shrugs. "Call it a soft launch."

We follow him out to the cabin.

"Come up to the main house once you are settled in. Caitlin has been working on a welcome dinner all day," Shane says.

"Sounds good," I say, unloading the few bags we have into the cabin.

After Sadie runs off to her room, I ease the door shut behind me. The cabin smells like fresh wood and lemon oil. It’s as if Shane's been working overtime to scrub away the past. It's clean and warm. But still doesn't feel like ours.

I head into the bedroom that will be Sadie's. There's a secondhand dresser in the corner and a twin bed made up with a pink unicorn blanket that I know Caitlin picked out. A stack of children's books sits on the nightstand, with a little folded note with Sadie's name in glittery ink.

"This is all mine?" she asks in awe.

I'm pretty sure this is the first time she will have her own room. Her mom and her shared a room when she was born. Right after I landed in jail, her mom passed away, so she went to live with her grandparents. She shared a room with her cousin there, since their other daughter was living with them, too.

I drop her two suitcases at the foot of the bed. Her clothes fill one of the suitcases, and the other is stuffed with crayons, and coloring books. Bear-Bear, the worn stuffed bear she hasn't let out of her sight since that night in Missoula is already on the bed. I make a mental note to wash him soon—he's starting to smell like rest area vending machines.

"Can I unpack them?" she asks.

"Yep. I'm going to go unpack in my room if you need me," I tell her.

I know I will have to reorganize her room, but her having independence is important too.

In the other room, I open the duffel I packed for myself. Two pairs of jeans. Five black T-shirts. One button-up I might never wear. I push it all into the bottom drawer of the built-in dresser and sit on the edge of the mattress.

For a second, I just sit there.

This place is... quiet.

Too quiet.

Not the kind of quiet I had in the cell, that was all buzzing lights, clanging doors, and the constant hum of tension.

This is the kind of quiet that gets inside your head. Makes you think too long. Remember too much.

When I head back to her room, Sadie is on the bed, fast asleep, with a dresser drawer open and her bag partly unpacked. It's been a long day and I don't blame her for needing a nap. If we had time, I'd take one too.

"All right, baby girl," I whisper. "Let's go meet the people who already care about you." Though I stop myself from saying more.

I wrap the unicorn blanket around her without waking her fully. She blinks up at me as I scoop her into my arms.

"Dinner?" she mumbles.

"Yeah. Let's go eat."

She rests her head on my shoulder, already drifting off again, and I carry her out into the last stretch of sunset as we walk toward the big house.

The porch light's already on by the time we reach the steps, casting a soft golden glow across the railings. It's warm here in a way I don't know how to explain. Not just the temperature, but the feel of it. Like the house itself knows how to offer comfort.

Sadie wiggles in my arms, already squirming to be put down. I lower her to the ground just in time for Caitlin to swing the door open with a wide smile and a dishtowel slung over one shoulder.

"Here are our newest neighbors!" she announces, like we're some kind of celebrity guests.

Sadie giggles as Caitlin bends down to her level and wraps her in a quick, tight hug.

"I see you found the unicorn blanket," Caitlin says, tapping Sadie's nose. "You picked the best room. I tested it myself with a nap earlier, just to be sure."

Sadie's eyes widen. "You took a nap in my bed?"

"Just to make sure it was comfy enough for a princess," Caitlin replies.

Inside, the air smells like garlic bread, spaghetti, and roasted chicken. My stomach clenches—half from hunger, half from being in someone else's home. It's been a long time since I've been welcomed like this. Too long.

Shane appears from the hallway, holding a glass of sweet tea. "Figured you'd be late. Thought I might have to come drag you up here myself."

I shake his hand again, this time with a little more ease. "You know how long it takes a four-year-old to unpack three books and one very stubborn teddy bear?"

Sadie gasps. "Bear-Bear isn't stubborn!"

"Okay, okay." I laugh. "He's just independent."

We step into the kitchen, where Aiden and Paisley are already seated at the table, passing a bowl of salad back and forth like it's a high-stakes game.

Aiden looks up, grins. "Hey, man. Good to see you."

"You too," I say, sliding into the empty chair beside him. We spent some time together while behind bars, but we weren't super close, not like I was with Shane.

Sadie hesitates near the table until Caitlin pats the seat next to her. "Come sit by me, sweet pea. I saved you the good fork."

Sadie climbs up, eyeing her napkin like it's some kind of treasure map. "It has unicorns on it!"

I watch them all and let it sink in how easily they fold her into their lives, like it's nothing. Like she's always belonged here.

Dinner is loud in the best kind of way. There's laughter, stories, the occasional spill, and Sadie dropping a meatball under the table and Caitlin dramatically declaring it a "tragedy of epic spaghetti proportions."

She's good with kids. Too good.

Sadie yawns halfway through a roll and leans against Caitlin's arm like she's known her forever.

"You okay, baby girl?" I ask.

She nods, sleepy. "Full," she says around another yawn. "And warm."

Yeah. Me too.

"You can lay her down in the bedroom by the back door. We will hear her if she wakes up," Caitlin says, pointing the way.

Sadie doesn't protest when I scoop her up again. Her head drops instantly to my shoulder, fingers tangled in Bear-Bear's scruffy ear. The scent of garlic bread still lingers in her curls from dinner, and I press my nose against them for a second, just breathing her in.

I step into the room Caitlin pointed out. It's small, but cozy. There’s a soft quilt on the bed, a rocking chair in the corner, and a lamp with little stars on the shade casting faint constellations across the ceiling. Caitlin, again. I don't even need to ask.

I lay Sadie down and pull the blanket over her. She stirs once, then curls on her side with Bear-Bear tucked under her chin. A quiet sigh escapes her lips, and just like that, she's out.

"I'll check on her in a bit," Caitlin says gently from the hallway.

"Thanks," I murmur, stepping out and closing the door most of the way.

Then I head for the front porch, where Shane's already waiting—two beers sweating in his hands and the stars spread out like a thousand quiet witnesses overhead.

"You sure about this?" Shane finally asks, not looking at me.

"No." I take a sip. "But it's all I've got."

He leans back in his chair, boots up on the rail. "Tell me what's going on."

I hesitate, and then let it out.

"Sadie's grandparents are coming for her," I say. The words hang in the air, sharp as barbed wire. "They filed for custody. Claim I'm unstable. Dangerous. That prison stint... even though the judge overturned it, it's still on my record. Still in people's minds."

Shane's jaw tightens. "That's bullshit. Everyone knows what happened."

"They've got money. They've got lawyers. And a judge who's leaning their way."

"You've got Sadie and us."

I look at him, eyes burning. "Yeah. For now."

Shane sits forward, jaw hard. "You're not alone in this. I'll write a statement. Hell, Caitlin will too. And we've got plenty of work here if you need a full-time gig."

"I got insurance lined up. Money's not the issue. It's the image of stability. A judge doesn't want to hear I'm working gigs and living in a bunkhouse."

"You won't be working gigs. You will be a ranch employee renting a cabin on the property."

I don't have the words to tell him how much that means to me, but judging by the look he gives me, he knows.

I take a shaky breath. "I didn't survive prison just to lose her now. She's the only good thing I've got left."

The screen door clicks open, and Aiden steps out fromm clearing the table with a fresh drink in hand. "Y'all getting sentimental out here or solving the world's problems?"

"Both," Shane grunts.

Shifting back in the rocker, I let out a soft snort. "Just trying to figure out how not to lose my daughter."

Aiden settles on the porch rail beside us, face turning serious. "You won't. Not if we've got anything to say about it."

It hits me again. This place . These people . They're not just a pit stop. They're something close to... safe. Real.

We talk for another half hour or so about ranch repairs. They tell me what's been happening around town. Shane gives me a heads-up about a few shady developers sniffing around again, and Aiden shares Paisley's latest culinary adventure.

Eventually, the conversation slows, and I push to my feet with a stretch and a yawn.

"I should head back. Need to finish getting Sadie's stuff settled before bed."

"You're good," Shane says, standing too. "Thanks for the talk."

Aiden tips his drink. "See you in the morning."

I make it halfway to the door when I hear Caitlin's voice call out from the kitchen, high and just a little breathless. "Kody, wait!"

I pause, hand on the screen door.

She comes rushing around the corner, phone still in her hand, hair a little messy, like she's been pacing.

Her eyes are bright. Too bright.

Shane mutters from behind me, "Oh, hell. She's got that look."

Aiden laughs under his breath. "The 'buckle up, boys' look."

Caitlin ignores them and walks straight up to me.

"Okay, don't kill me," she starts, already flushed. "But I heard you guys talking, and I just got off the phone with Courtney... and I might have a completely insane idea."

Shane groans. "You only say that when it's something we'll regret."

She waves him off with a dramatic flourish. "No regrets! Just solutions. Possibly sketchy solutions. But solutions."

She turns back to me, serious now. "There's a woman at the women's shelter. Paige. She's diabetic and needs insurance, and fast. She's kind. Quiet. Great with kids. Her situation's bad and getting worse."

I frown, uncertain where this is going. But I can feel it coming.

Caitlin's eyes narrow just slightly. "You need stability. A family structure on paper. Something the courts can't tear apart."

And then she says it. Just like that.

"What if you got married?"

The words land hard.

She barrels on, hands flying. "Not for real real—just legally. A contract. No pressure. No romance. You give her insurance and protection, and she gives you the image of stability a judge wants. Two birds. One legal binding solution."

I blink. "You want me to marry a stranger?"

"She's not a stranger. She's a woman who deserves a break. And so do you."

I don't speak. I just stand there, processing the weight of it.

Shane lets out a long sigh behind me. "We're really doing this, huh?"

Caitlin shrugs, eyes locked on mine.

"It's nuts... but what if it helps both of you?"

From the hallway, I hear the faint, familiar sound of Sadie stirring.

And somewhere in the back of my head, a voice whispers the one thing I can't ignore:

She's the only good thing I've got left.

I don't answer.

Instead, I just stare at Caitlin, and try to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do next.