Chapter Two
Rhett
“So, you’re a psychopath?” Pepper stares at me from the passenger seat of the old blue Chevy I’ve been cobbling back together for the better part of two decades.
It’s not pretty to look at, but it does the job just fine.
We’ve been on the side of the road together, hauled more than our share of firewood, and this truck is the only one who’s ever seen me cry.
We’ve got a bond, and if this old girl could talk, she’d surely tell Pepper she’s way off on the psychopath thing. Terrible with emotions, sure. Out for revenge, who isn’t? Psychopath, that’s a little much.
“Tell me you’re not glad I dragged you out of there and I’ll admit to whatever crazy you want me to,” I groan, shifting the truck into drive.
“It’s my wedding day! Do you see the dress I’m wearing?
” She runs her tiny hand down over the puffy, white fabric that’s spilled out over the seat like it has a mind of its own.
Layers of satin, sparkling gems, and that puffy stuff gathered in her lap as she sits on the duct-taped seat.
The hem pools at her feet, catching on the floor mat.
The pure white color, now dusted with dirt and hay.
“This cost Nathan ten thousand dollars.”
“I’m sure it did,” I shrug, “but I think you’d look better without it.”
She scoffs and twists as best she can toward me, her dress shifting and blooming as my old truck lifts over a bump in the road. “Are you seriously flirting with me on my wedding day, which you just took me from?”
“Not flirting,” I laugh, though I can see her point, “but I do think you look better in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Well, this is a very expensive dress made by the one and only Calvin Crimsonite. He’s one of the biggest designers in the world. He made dresses for celebrities at the Oscars last year.”
I glance toward her to study the so-called ‘expensive dress,’ though I’m stuck on her breasts bubbling out of it instead.
She’s gorgeous. Long dark hair, hazel eyes, thick, round curves, and a smile that could rival any sunset, any flower, any shiny new truck, any day of the week.
The second I saw her, that was obvious, though it’s not smart.
I’m on a mission that does not involve getting rock-hard under any circumstances.
“You’re going off the road!” She points ahead with wide eyes, forcing me to glance away from her. “See, you like the dress too.”
“No,” I shake my head as the valley drops away on the left, “it just… doesn’t seem like your thing. I imagine you in something white, lacy, and minimal.”
“Yeah,” she whispers and stares down into the valley, studying the silver river that cuts through the center like I’ve struck some deeper feeling than a dress choice.
“You okay?” I groan, trying to remove the concern from my voice, though it’s a hard thing to do when she’s looking so damn soft and sympathetic.
“Where are you taking me?” she says, her voice cracking, her gaze still stuck in the sun-soaked valley.
“Back to the lake house.” I nod as I try out a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got painting to do.”
This gets her to glance back at me. “So you took me from my wedding so I could paint? You know there are other painters in town, right?”
“No,” I clear my throat, giving myself time to fine-tune the script, “it was clear after we talked the other night that you’re stuck in some sort of decision paralysis. Finishing the paint job is a perk.”
“Oh!” She pretends to laugh. “If you ask me, I think this feels a lot like a kidnapping! A kidnapping my very rich fiancé would pay a lot of money to see you in jail for!”
I grin and glance toward her pretty face. “I’ll turn around anytime. You haven’t asked yet.”
Her jaw drops and her eyes narrow to slits in the most dramatic way possible. “I kicked and screamed the whole time you carried me out the door! That seems pretty clear!”
“But you didn’t once tell me to stop. Tell the truth… did you really want to go through with that wedding today?” I shrug, biting back a barrage of insults I have at the ready about her ‘fiancé.’ “You can do better.”
“Oh yeah?” She clears her throat and turns back to stare into the valley, but it’s been replaced by towering pines. “Like you?”
I laugh once and tighten my hands around the wheel until my knuckles are white. “I’ve never been good with people. I’d probably disappoint you too.”
Her gaze drifts toward me. “Yeah, well… I was excited to see you. I know Nathan spent so much money on that wedding, but I’d been pacing the bridal suite all morning, trying to buy time to figure everything out.”
All I hear is that she was excited to see me, and I’m not sure why that does something to me.
Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I knew I was attracted to her back when she brought the paint samples to the house, but I wrote her off as too young and formulated a new plan.
A plan that involves draining her fiancé’s bank account.
I can’t see her as anything other than a pawn now. That’s how this has to be.
“I’m a total jerk!” she continues with more emotion, which again, I’m not good at.
“I kept him waiting for over an hour, and now my phone is at the inn, and I can’t even properly end the relationship.
I should’ve told him months ago I couldn’t do this.
Lord knows he gave me plenty of opportunities to end it.
” She sighs. “I don’t know why I convinced myself that I could change, and he’d stop being mean. ”
I want to offer her options to end everything, but I need her investment in him until the ransom is paid.
“You can end it through email.”
“Email?” she gasps as though it’s the worst idea anyone’s ever thought.
“Yeah.” I shrug as sunlight flashes between the pines, strobing across my forearms. “You write up a note, send it on over, and—”
“I think that would make me a legendary jerk.”
“Look, I’ve only had a handful of interactions with you, but I know already that you’re not the type that’s out to hurt people. I’d bet you’re the type that cares too much, gives everything you have, exhausts yourself, then reaches out for help and no one’s there. Am I right?”
I catch her shallow nod out of the corner of my eye.
“Right, ‘cause people are assholes who take advantage of sweet, little angels like you. What you need is… a daddy. Someone to keep the leeches away.”
“A daddy? I have a dad, and he’s more into his fantasy football league than anything else.”
“No, you need a daddy. A protector who’ll crush anyone who hurts you, spank your ass when you’re naughty, then kiss it and make it all better.”
Shit. Even I feel the sharp, heavy jolt of my words. What the hell am I saying, and why is my brain, and my cock, circling back to the thoughts I had of her last night in my bed, ass up, pussy dripping wet as I sunk inside?
A good guy wouldn’t think shit like that. Hell, a good guy wouldn’t have taken a woman from her wedding. A good guy would know better, and he’d be here to help.
But, as stunning, innocent, and tempting as this girl is, I’m not here to be anyone’s daddy. I’m here to be the bad guy, and I’m okay with that.