Daddies’ Discipline (Forbidden Fantasies #22)

Chapter 1

DREW

I hate being home. Nothing ever changes.

My parents are downstairs arguing with each other. Probably about me—but I’m purposefully ignoring it.

My room is still a pale purple, still covered in posters from high school, pictures of me and my old friends, still displaying my old trophies and medals. Even my small collection of stuffed animals sits on my bed.

I didn’t have any of those in the apartment I rented in the city. It was all sleek chrome and white and black.

Easier to manage and match that way. Plus, I felt like a grownup. A real adult.

Apparently, I’d been wrong about that.

Just made the same old mistakes that I did before.

The ones that had me running out of here faster than I could holler “See ya!” and shedding my old persona of the perfect Pinebrook Princess the further I ran.

Instead, I made myself the perfect publishing pushover.

A lackey.

One step above an intern.

At best.

And I bent over backward for everyone. Anytime they asked me for help, I thought I’d been useful. Skilled.

I’m done being naive though. Not after Nick made a fool out of me. My childish hope that I could have an adult relationship, an adult job, and an adult life. But I had none of those things.

Such a fool.

Digging in my purse, I grab the joint I bought on my way across the state. Because I knew I would need it.

Let’s face it. I’m eating major shit coming home with my tail between my legs. At least one thing is certain.

I’m not the same girl who left, even if I’m blundering around the same way I did at eighteen.

I find it and sneak down the stairs, but I’m not stealthy enough.

“Where do you think you’re off to?”

I freeze halfway to the back door, my shoulders rising toward my ears to protect me from whatever mean shit my dad wants to fling at me.

“Outside,” I venture, knowing I’m not getting out of here as quickly as I hoped.

“What do you need that’s outside? You haven’t got anywhere else to run to.”

His presence is so big behind me, bigger than if he were in front of me.

But I don’t want to turn around and face him. It’s just seven more steps to the door. Too many but so few.

“I just want some fresh air.” Some freedom because being back here feels like I’m being caged all over again.

He’s right, though, I have nowhere else to go. I burned every bridge I had when I left home and every connection I had when I fled the city.

“Well, don’t think you’re back to get a free ride. After six years of not even coming home for Christmas, you’re going to be working in the bakery while you’re under this roof. Starting tomorrow. No if ands or buts.”

“Andy. There’s no need to threaten her. She’ll come.” Mom steps closer, brushing back her dark hair so like mine and stepping between us and doing her best to soothe things. Like she always does when Dad thinks my autonomy is stepping over the line.

Her hand smooths down my shoulder, but my muscles clamp down even harder.

Mom’s not the reason I didn’t come home. She’s the reason I struggled not to.

“Better to face the town all in one go and get it over with. Right, honey?”

I suck in a slow breath, ready to crawl out of my skin if I don’t get away in the next minute.

“You know how this town is.”

Oh, I more than knew. They tore me down so completely once, that I’m betting they don’t hold back this time.

Dad lets out a frustrated huff, his brown eyes narrowed at me. “Who knew Daisy would turn out to be our good daughter.”

His disappointment hits hard. I burst out the back door at the low blow. No, I’m not perfect.

I should have never had the expectations of being perfect, but I tried. The moment I wanted something for myself, though, my world blew up in my face.

Dad’s words follow me: embarrassment, fiasco.

“She was always a good girl until that boy got ahold of her.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

I shake it off, activating the motion sensor as I slink around to hide between my parents’ house and the Kincaids’.

It takes me a few tries to light the joint. Even though it’s legal now, I don’t have a lot of experience smoking.

Once or twice when I was taking courses in the city, a friend would pass one my way, but I never sought it out.

Now, I need the distraction. Something to calm me down. And this seems better than the Vallum I know Mom has hidden away in her bathroom cabinet.

Smoke burns in my lungs as soon as I get it properly started. Smothering my coughs, I take another hit and look up at the stars twinkling in the sky.

I couldn’t do this in the city. It’s one of things I missed while I was gone.

If I really wanted, I could have just taken a trip out of the city limits, but I didn’t need to see them as much, as they’re a perk of being home.

Maybe one of the few I left behind.

The crunching of boots in layers of snow doesn’t stir me from the mesmerizing stars until siding creaks across from me. My gaze swings down to Gabe. My neighbor. My friend.

Probably the only one I have left.

He leans against the side of his house, across from me.

The boots are the same, dark and scuffed and sturdy. Like him. T

he faded blue jeans and black leather jacket are also the same.

His neck tattoo is new, an intricate pattern that I can’t see the details of from here, but it spans across his entire throat.

Blonde hair falls into his golden-brown eyes as he stares back at me, cataloging the differences and similarities from the last time we saw each other. What does he see?

Do I still look like the teen who ran away?

He doesn’t look as young as he did six years ago.

Fully man.

And still as intimidating as he was when I was a kid.

Funny how that didn’t deter me from relying on him my entire life.

“You’re back.” His voice is gravelly. Low. But his gaze doesn’t leave mine now that he’s caught me.

“Yeah.” I pull in another drag, daring him to say something about it.

Gabe lifts a golden brow at me. “Pick up that bad habit in the city?”

The tension in me snaps, and heat swarms me. “Don’t judge me. It’s legal now.”

Because if he judges me now, after this, I will fall apart.

Pushing off the side of the house, he takes slow, careful steps across the snow until he’s propped beside me.

He takes the joint from between my fingers and presses it to his mouth, making the cherry glow bright red in the darkness.

His lips press together as he hands it back, and smoke seeps from his nose before he blows it away.

I can barely hide my giggle as I take another hit. I didn’t know he smoked. I mean, I should have guessed.

He’s always put off bad boy vibes, even if I’ve never seen him act bad.

Not around me anyway.

This town does like to gossip though. And he did like to run around after dark. Pull dangerous stunts. Break hearts.

Having him next to me calms me down as much as it flusters me. I missed how stabilize he is.

Gabe smokes the joint with me. Silently.

And once it’s done, he puts it out in the snow and pockets it. He’d never leave the evidence behind.

“Want to come in for a slice?”