Chapter Two
Reed
I’m fucked. Completely fucking fucked.
What kind of grown ass man gets a fucking hard-on for a woman twenty-three years younger?
What kind of grown fucking man jerks his cock to thoughts of that same girl on her knees, lashes flickering up as she sucks his cock?
What kind of man has these thoughts for years and keeps them hidden away like some sick, twisted fucking caveman.
Me. I’m that fuck.
I tighten my fist and the urge to put a hole in the wall overtakes me, though I restrain myself knowing there’s a cash paying asshole coming to look at the place this weekend.
Then again, maybe I should put a few holes in the wall just so he knows the kind of guy he’s dealing with.
Dinner with my kitten is a fucking privilege, and he needs to know what happens to him if he steps out of bounds.
I can’t imagine property damage would go over well with Nikki, though, and Lord knows I’d do anything to keep that girl happy. How could I not when she looks to me for comfort and guidance, when she looks to me for stability?
Jesus Christ. There are a million fucking reasons telling me that I shouldn’t jerk off to pictures of her in the bikini she wore last weekend at the lake.
Even more screaming that I shouldn’t have taken the pictures to begin with.
However, despite the repeated and deafening voices saying I shouldn’t fantasize about her ass up on the end of my bed begging me to touch her, lick her, take her thick curves as my own, my mind won’t waver. It’s all I’m thinking about.
I scrub my hand down over my face, grab another cup of coffee and my map out of the junk drawer, and sit down at the kitchen table to plan my trip.
I know everyone loves GPS these days, but that shit is the devil.
Or at the very least, it’s the way the government keeps tabs on your ass.
No one needs to know when I stop for gas or how many fast-food burgers I enjoy.
That knowledge is just for me, and my kitten, if I could ever convince her to spread those full thighs and ride off into the sunset with me.
It’s the fantasy to rival all fantasies, but there’s no way in fucking hell that’s ever going to happen.
For one, she hates my bike, and she’s constantly telling me how dangerous it is.
Two, I doubt her father would give her the time off.
He keeps her working non-stop. Three, I’d bet a cross-country bike trip with her looks a hell of a lot different to her than it does to me.
In my version, we spend a lot of time enjoying each other, nowhere near the bike.
I draw in a deep breath, grab my highlighter, and unfold the map for the hundredth time as I sprawl it out onto the dining room table.
It’s an older version and very outdated, I’m sure, but it’ll give me a general idea of where I’m going, which is all I need considering I’m just going where the wind takes me.
There’s only one stop I have to make on the way out, and that’s to see a buddy who’s got a part for the 1929 Indian Scout I’ve been remodeling.
He owns an outfitting company and a bit of land for camping down by the creek.
It’ll be a good spot to stop for the night, and it’ll give us an opportunity to catch up.
Lord knows there’s plenty to catch up on.
I haven’t seen him since he opened the outfitters, and that was nearly two years ago.
Since then, he’s brought some people in to help, and everyone in town has something to say about the place.
Some good, some not so good. I’m curious to get his take on the gossip.
I follow the old highway with my finger, tracing the path that leads toward Salt Lake City.
I’m not sure what trouble I’ll find out that way, but that’s what this trip is about.
Heading west with no plans on the horizon.
It’s been fucking ages since I’ve taken a trip like that.
Partly because of the construction company I own with my buddies and partly because I’ve always hated leaving Nikki.
How could I leave knowing she was going through hell here with her mother gone, and a father who’d lost his way. She’s been lost for so long. I’ve always wished I could have done more.
Instead, I had to stand by and watch my buddy make a mess of everything while trying to clean up the trail of shit he left behind.
We met way back in grade school and remained friends since, though I don’t think I saw the real Pete until after his wife died.
It’s almost like she was the one thing holding him back.
After she passed, he became the person he’d always wanted to be.
A tyrant.
I called him out a thousand times over his bullshit, but nothing ever changes the way he treats Nikki.
She deserves better.
I scrub my hand down over my face, shove the map back into the drawer, and make my way to the back room to grab a button-down shirt out of the closet.
I’m not sure how nicely I’m supposed to dress to beat a guy’s ass, but it’s a nice restaurant, so I’m opting for my nicest shirt.
Bonus… it’s also my fishing shirt, so I can stop at the creek afterward and dip my pole in the water.
I’ve tried fishing off the docks at the lake house, and I’ve had no trouble catching trout, but I need brassy minnows to lure them, and they’re a dime a dozen down at the creek.
When I’m dressed, I grab my keys, jump out into the skiff, and fly toward the dock.
At first, the added time of taking the boat to the dock before I could get anywhere was annoying as hell, especially on a Saturday afternoon when I needed to grab something quickly and the water was busy with folks pulling in and out.
Now, the trip to the dock is the best part of living out here.
It keeps people from randomly knocking on my door, and it keeps me out here on the water rather than places I shouldn’t be.
Today, though, the docks are quiet. Not a boat in sight.
I gather it’s due to the lumberjack games happening on the other side of the mountain today.
Every year, a bunch of jacked dudes from all over the place come out to Rugged Mountain to compete in random axe throwing and wood chopping games.
I think there’s even a wood carving contest that folks get into now.
I used to participate, but in the last few years, I’ve left the games up to the younger guys and saved my stamina for more important things, like chopping my own damn wood without an audience.
Either way, the crowds are over there, and my boat launch is free and clear of everyone and everything.
I angle the bow toward the weather-worn dock and let the water carry me close enough that I can reach out for the post. The hull gives a low scrape against the wood as I hop out and tie off the rope, letting the quiet morning settle the small metal boat into place.
“Shit,” my buddy Clint laughs as he makes his way toward me from the top of the hill, “he’s actually leaving his house. Something bad must’ve happened.”
“I could say the same about you,” I groan, kicking the knot on the post to check it before walking up the dock toward the hill. “You haven’t been seen in public since meeting that girl. I was starting to think you were holding each other captive.”
Clint adjusts his hat and nods once as he bites back a grin. “I hope someday you’ll understand what it’s like having twenty-four seven access to your dream woman. Where you off to?”
“All the questions for me, but what the hell are you doing out here? I thought everything needed to be finished with the lake houses.”
“They are now.” He nods, holding up the wrench in his hand. “The inspector stopped by this morning and said there was an issue with the outdoor spigot. It had a slow drip. Thankfully, he let me stop by and fix it before he wrote anything in the buyer’s report.”
“Fuck. So that’s it? The houses are good to go?”
He nods slowly and tucks his hands into his front pockets. “It’s a fucking relief. I can’t tell you how good it’ll feel to have the weight of these places off me. This shit has taken twice as long as it should’ve.” He smiles as he says, “Was that Nikki out at your place this morning?”
“Yeah.” I stare down at the gravel and try to sound as normal as possible, though the way my heart rate kicks when someone says her name, I gather ‘normal’ isn’t possible. “She thinks she has a buyer for the boathouse. She’s bringing him by this weekend. You need something?”
“Nothing urgent,” he says, dragging his hand down over his beard.
“I was just wondering if she’d finalized the signing details with Mulligan.
I want these rentals out from underneath me yesterday.
These fucking things have taken double the time I was planning.
I can’t wait for the sales to go through. ”
“She’s having dinner with him tonight, so I’m sure she’ll have more details soon. You going to celebrate the second the ink hits the paper?”
“You know it.” He grins. “Bella is already making kabobs for the grill. She’s got a ton of peppers and tomatoes fresh from the garden to use up, so I expect everyone to be there.”
“I’ll do my best, but I’ve got this trip coming up, and now I guess there’s some asshole from Florida that’s going to buy my place, so I’ve got repairs to make before he gets here.
” The sun glints through the pines, and I glance down at my watch.
It’s great catching up with Clint and all, but we see each other at almost every job we take on. Right now, my priority is Nikki.
“You got somewhere important to be?”
“Nah,” I lie, disinterested in telling him anything about where I’m headed.
Not because I think he’ll judge me, I doubt he would, but because I’m judging myself.
“Just have to run a few errands. Like I said, between the trip and this houseboat sale, it’s been busy.
If I see Nikki, I’ll ask her about the closing time. ”
He nods once and laughs under his breath as though he sees through whatever it is I’m pulling. “When are you going to admit you’re into her? You’re probably on your way to see her right now, aren’t you?”
“What?” My chest tightens, and I tap my thumb against my thigh.
Clint laughs and shakes his head before adjusting his cap. “You get all weird whenever I mention her name, man. Be honest.”
Shoulders tight, I ignore the heat crawling up the back of my neck. Plenty of my buddies are in age-gap relationships, and they’ve found a way to make them work just fine. I should be cooler, but I’m not.
How could I be? What I feel for Nikki is sick.
Her father is my friend, and their family has relied on me for ages.
I can’t suddenly declare how badly I want to sink between Nikki’s thighs and fill her up.
I can’t abruptly tell the world I’m in love with her.
“I gotta go, man. I’ll text you if I hear anything. ”
He nods and laughs, shaking his head as I walk up toward my truck. I keep it parked at the back of the public dock space, underneath a few pines. The needles that drop are a pain in the ass, but I’m sure my old truck enjoys a break from the heat.
Lately, the weather’s been awful. Even now, though the sun is setting, it’s still hot as hell, dry too. The kind that has my shirt sticking to my back. Thankfully, a heavy breeze peels it off again before I climb up into my Chevy and blast the air conditioning.
Jesus, just a few minutes outside and I’m sweating my ass off.
I swear the mountain never used to be this hot in the summer.
Sure, we’d have a few hot days like this here and there, but for the most part, summer meant a high of eighty-two degrees and partly sunny.
This whole month’s temps have been riding close to one hundred, which led to Nikki in that bikini at the lake, making me jerk off to the pictures non-stop.
This whole fucking spiral clearly belongs to the weather, not my own fucked head.
I need to get a grip and come to terms with the fact that my little kitten is going to fall in love with another man and have an entire life without me.
A life where her children will probably call me Uncle Reed.
A life where I play a background role, where I’m not the one who protects Nikki. That will be some other man’s job.
Hell, maybe that future protector is the man from Florida. The perverted, fucking asshole who’s buying my boathouse. The man she seemed too damn excited about having dinner with.
My fingers tighten around the wheel as I drive down the mountain, taking the curves far too fast as I picture hurting everyone who’s ever looked at her.
That guy her freshman year of college. I’m pretty sure he was on drugs.
The asshole from the diner who thought it would be cute to ask her to grab a milkshake. I’m pretty sure he had mommy issues.
The prick at the shop who was fixing her car and thought he could ask her to dinner. That fuck had been through every girl in town.
None of these fuckers could ever take care of her the way that I do. Neither will the asshole in Florida. Nikki is mine.
My little kitten.
My baby girl.
My sweet angel.
The only person in the entire universe I’d protect with my life, and I dare any fuck to test my resolve.