October’s Bad Boy: Cullen (Bad Boys of Mustang Mountain #10)

Chapter 1

CULLEN

After two days of fighting the fire at Miles and Kinley’s place, my body felt like it had been worked over with a crowbar.

Every muscle ached, my throat burned, and my eyes were so gritty I could barely keep them open.

I’d been battling fires in Mustang Mountain for the past ten years.

Each one had its own personality. Some crept along, moving slowly and staying low.

Others bulldozed their way over everything in their path.

This one had been the worst kind… the kind that dug in and fought back.

It raced ahead, jumping from one patch of dry grass to the next, always one step ahead.

We’d managed to save the house, but two barns and an outbuilding were gone. Miles stood at the edge of the blackened field, his jaw clenched, one arm wrapped around Kinley like he was afraid she’d vanish too.

I could relate. Fire stripped everything away. What you built, what you thought was safe… it could chew through it in a matter of seconds and leave you with absolutely nothing.

I hauled my wet gear toward my truck, my boots heavy with mud. Huck was rolling up a hose a few yards away. He looked like he’d been through a meat grinder and barely survived.

As I passed, he caught my eye and hollered, “Ruby’s looking for you.”

“Now?” My stomach clenched. All I wanted was a shower, something to fill my belly, and my bed. Maybe not even in that order.

“Yeah. She said to tell you it’s urgent.” Huck leaned against his truck and offered a sympathetic grin. Hell, even his teeth were streaked with black from the fire. “Her words. Not mine.”

I groaned. Ruby’s definition of urgent usually involved coffee running low or one of her schemes to try to marry me off before I hit forty.

“Did she say what it’s about?”

Huck shook his head. “Didn’t ask. Peyton’s waiting on me at home, and I didn’t want to risk getting pulled into something that’s none of my damn business.”

“Asshole,” I grumbled.

Huck laughed. “She said to head to the Merc as soon as you’re done here. Good luck.”

The drive into town was quiet, especially after being smack-dab in the middle of a roaring blaze for hours.

My cab smelled like damp gear, so I rolled the windows down to let in some fresh air.

Normally, I’d crank the radio up to drown out the crackle of the fire that still played through my head, but tonight even that felt like too much.

When I pulled up in front of the Merc, my truck rattled as I killed the engine, like it was just as tired as I was.

I pushed through the front door. The scent of coffee brewing hit me first, followed by cinnamon rolls in the oven, and that mix of sugar and soap that always clung to Ruby’s place.

Every stool at the counter in back was full.

Conversations hummed around me, bits of gossip rising and falling.

The Merc had always been the heart of Mustang Mountain, and Ruby Nelson had always been the one who kept it beating.

She sat at a table in the back corner, in a pumpkin-orange cardigan. Her silver hair was pulled into its usual no-nonsense twist, and her eyes fixed on me like she’d been waiting for this exact moment all day.

But she wasn’t alone.

A woman I didn’t recognize sat across from her.

She had on a black suit jacket with a crisp, collared shirt underneath.

Everything about her screamed that she was from out of town, from her ramrod-straight spine to the fancy messenger bag hanging from the back of her chair.

Between the two of them, a baby carrier sat on one of those wooden frames I’d seen people use at the cafe.

The handle was in the air, and a pink blanket patterned with tiny flowers draped over the top.

My throat tightened. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to end well.

Ruby lifted her chin in a way that told me not to argue because it wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good.

I walked over, each step heavier than the last. “You wanted to see me?”

“Sit down,” Ruby said as she slid a mug of coffee toward me. “You look like death warmed over.”

“I feel worse.” Sinking into a chair across the table from the baby bucket, I wrapped my hands around the mug. “What’s this about?”

The stranger held out her hand. “Mr. Jameson? I’m Valerie Hibbing with the Department of Child and Family Services.”

That got my attention, even through my sleep-deprived haze. I glanced at my hand, still darkened with soot. “I don’t think you want to shake my hand, Ms. Hibbing.”

“Oh.” Valerie offered a tight smile and reached into her bag. “You look like you’ve been through a lot. I’ll try to make this brief.”

She pulled out a manila folder and set it on the table as a soft whimper came from underneath the blanket. Ruby immediately peeled back the edge, her eyes softening at whatever was inside. The sound of a soft sigh followed, so small it barely reached me but still landed somewhere deep in my chest.

Valerie cleared her throat. “Are you familiar with a Rebecca Lane?”

I leaned back against the chair and reached up to rub the back of my neck.

Then a flash of blonde hair and a wide smile hit me.

That was the girl I’d met on a trip up to Whitefish a while back.

She’d laughed too loud, worn perfume that smelled like peaches, and written her number on a napkin I threw away the morning after.

Because that was my regular MO. I didn’t do callbacks.

“Yeah. We… well, I guess we kind of knew each other.”

Valerie’s voice softened. “I’m sorry to tell you she passed away last week.”

“What? How?” All the air left my lungs. I wasn’t close to her—hell, I barely remembered her name—but death still had a way of punching holes in a man’s chest.

“A car accident. She left behind an eight-month-old daughter,” Valerie went on. “Her name is Calliope.” She opened the folder and turned it toward me. There was the birth certificate. Rebecca’s name was listed as the mother, and printed next to it, listed as the father, was mine.

The blood drained from my face, and my cheeks went numb. “That can’t be right.”

“I attempted to contact you,” Valerie continued.

“When I couldn’t reach you, I called the town hall to find out if you still lived in the area.

I was told you were in town but out working on a fire, so I headed this way.

Usually, I’m much more discreet with this type of news, but I needed a place to stay last night, and Mrs. Nelson offered one of her cabins.

She assured me she could get a message through to you as well. ”

Ruby gave me a tight smile, her eyes kind but serious. “I told you it was urgent.”

“There are no other family members able to assume custody,” Valerie said. “Which leaves you.”

I stared at the folder, then at the baby carrier. A tiny hand flailed out from under the blanket, fingers curling and uncurling like she was trying to grab a handful of air. My throat went dry.

“We were careful,” I mumbled. The words sounded thin and useless.

A dozen excuses crowded my throat. They had the wrong guy…

there was some kind of mistake—but none of them made it past my lips.

This couldn’t be happening. I’d never had unprotected sex.

Never wanted to be tied down. Never wanted to be a father.

I shook my head, unwilling to accept what Ruby and Ms. Hibbing were saying as truth.

“Mr. Jameson,” Valerie said, her voice gentle, her gaze steady on mine. “You’re welcome to do DNA testing if you’d like, but as far as the state is concerned, the child is yours.”

While I’d been struggling to make sense of what they were saying, Ruby had pulled the blanket off the carrier and now held a tiny human in her arms.

“Cullen,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “You’re a father. This is Calliope, your baby girl.”

The world seemed to narrow to the space between us. My chair felt nailed to the floor. I wanted to push back, to breathe, to wake up from the nightmare, but all I could do was stare at a small fist waving above the blanket.

Valerie got up and pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“My apologies for leaving so soon, but I didn’t expect to be gone so long.

There’s enough formula and food in the diaper bag to get you started, and her schedule and doctor’s notes from her last appointment are in the folder.

If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away. ”

Wait. She was leaving? A vise closed around my chest as I pushed back from the table. Every instinct inside urged me to run, but I forced myself to stand my ground. “I don’t know anything about babies. Who’s going to take care of her?”

Ruby set a hand on my arm. “You will, sugar.”

Valerie offered an apologetic grin, like she actually felt sorry for me.

Then she pulled her jacket tight. “It looks like you’ve got a good support system in place here, Mr. Jameson.

But if you decide you’re not up for the task, there are plenty of families who would be willing to take placement of an infant. ”

“Cullen,”—Ruby pressed the pink bundle into my chest—“don’t make any rash decisions. Sit with this for a little while.”

“You’ve got my number.” Valerie took one last look at the baby, then turned and walked toward the door.

I shook my head and looked down at the bundle of blankets.

Brown eyes peered up at me, the same color as my own.

Warmth seeped through the blanket, soft and impossibly light.

Her tiny hand brushed my shirt, fingers curling against the soot still on my skin.

For a heartbeat, something in me cracked open.

Then the panic rushed back in. This couldn’t be happening.

I didn’t know how to take care of a baby.

Hell, I’d never even held a doll, much less a real-life kid.

“Ruby…” I pushed the baby back toward her. “I’m not dad material.”

“No one is at first, but you’ll learn.” She smiled and rearranged the blankets. “Let’s get her back to your place. I think you’ll feel much better after you’ve had a shower and a real meal.”

I stood by while Ruby put the baby back into the carrier and secured all the buckles. Then she flipped the handle up and grabbed a big black bag I hadn’t noticed that sat on the floor.

“I had time to gather a few things while you were at the fire. There’s a pack and play in my trunk along with a highchair Jonas said you could borrow.

I’ve already got the base for the car seat secured in my backseat.

We can transfer it to your truck now if you’d like, or I can do it when we get back to your place.

” She nodded toward the baby carrier. “I’ve got the bag. Will you bring Calliope?”

All eyes in the Merc had turned on us. Whispers swirled, and it was only a matter of time before word spread faster than fire about my new predicament.

I’d always tried to fly under the radar.

Now I was going to be right smack dab in the center of attention.

Eager to get out of the limelight, I wrapped my hand around the baby carrier and held it by my side as I followed Ruby out of the Merc.

I didn’t know anything about being a father.

The only example I’d had left me with nothing except scars, both the visible and invisible kind, from his battle with the bottle he always seemed to lose.

Ruby was wrong. The best thing I could do for this baby was let someone else take care of her.

I’d seen enough damage in my life to know I wasn’t built to keep anything safe.