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Christian chuckled. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not mud.” The stench hit me immediately and, from the looks of things, Tripp realized it too. “Shit,” he said with disgust. “There you go, buddy. Now you got it right,”
What kind of father encouraged his kids to go to therapy like an emotionally available, self-aware parent? Didn’t Christian know he was supposed to ignore all expressions of personal feelings like the rest of the dads out there? Or at least like mine had.
“Rise and shine.” Christian’s deep bass floated in as the door creaked open. Politely, fuck him. No. On second thought, not politely. Fuck him.
“You do know the difference between people and animals, right? You eat animals.” I choked on a laugh. “You can eat people, too. Particularly women. Or did your fiancé not do that for you, Princess?”
“Neither are you, son. You’d better remember that.” I eyed the cluster of ranch hands as I pointed toward the office. “She carries the weight of my name. She’s a Griffith to you.”
“Sometimes,” Gracie said without a care in the world. “But sometimes the cows are artificially incinerated.” “Inseminated,” I corrected.
Before I could get another word out, Gracie beamed at Cassandra. “Bye, Miss Cass. Have a day as pretty as you are!”
I bet Cassandra thought she liked control, until she finally let someone else take it.
Cassandra looked down and scrolled through. “Daddy Griffith… Cow Boss … GI Joe… Prison.” She slid it back into her oversized purse. “Very funny.”
“Why on earth would you want to do that?” I shuddered. “Granted, I’m not sure what possessed you to get pregnant in the first place.” Becks snorted. “My husband’s big di—”
Christian shook his head, then said the sexiest thing I had ever heard. “It’s not fine. I told you I’d be there, and I wasn’t. So, I’m sorry.” I was so fucked.
“Now you can show up and eat a plate or you can ration whatever leftovers Chris has in his fridge. But this isn’t hospitality. It’s family. Learn the difference.”
“I’m sorry—what kind of eleven-year-old talks like that? I can’t decide if you’re trying to act like you’re three or thirty. And second, did you just pull the dead mom card to try to guilt trip me?”
“Please,” Bree begged in a whisper. “I need something cute to wear to school and my dad thinks Levis and a button-up are the answer to everything.” I turned back to the contact list I was working on. “Still no.” “Fine,” Gracie said. “Will you be our evil stepmother?”
Christian let out an easy laugh. “What’s the rule?” I tapped a finger on my chin. “Rule number one: if you’re going to kill someone, make it look like an accident, cry at the funeral, admit nothing, and deny everything.” “Jesus, you publicists are dark.” “Don’t fuck with me, Griffith.”
“All the shit that gets stirred up and clouds your mind. Eventually it’ll settle. You’ll be able to breathe easier.” He looked ahead. “Doesn’t make it better in the moment. Dust storms happen. It’s okay to close your eyes and stumble through.”
“Am I gonna ride out here and find you breaking ground on something that’s gonna piss me off?”
“I want to be the person that people go to when there’s a problem. I want to be the one who gets the calls in the middle of the night to fix something that’s going wrong. I want to be the one that holds everything together. I want to be irreplaceable.”
“We all have work to do.” He pulled my wrist down and dropped the peppermint into my hand. “Now show her some appreciation for not bucking you off and leaving your city-girl ass in the middle of a goddamn field.”
The door clicked open and I froze, paralyzed as Christian filled the doorway. His eyes locked on my fingers. My breath caught and my nipples tightened, aching immediately at the sight of him. With an authoritative tone that could demand oceans to part, he said, “Don’t stop on my account.”
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the girls were still upstairs. “You’re wrong about one thing.” Her frown was fierce. “I’m never wrong.” “You’re wrong about men never noticing.” The silk blouse she was in gave it away. My hands were filthy, so I trailed a knuckle down the exposed red bra strap peeking out on top of her shoulder. “I notice everything, Cass.”
“I’m going to let her wash it, style it, and talk my ear off. Then I’ll go next door to the cosmetics store and sit still while an employee makes me look like a 90s country music star.” His laugh was low and full of amusement. “You know, I always had a thing for Faith Hill.” He reached over and zipped up the second lunchbox, never taking his eyes off me. “But just for the record—” he paused with his mouth beside my ear. “I like your freckles.”
No one saw me around here. I was basically in witness protection. What was the point in wearing makeup? But Christian liked my freckles…
“They’re just mad you’re here because all the teachers and moms want to date dad,” Gracie informed me, to Christian’s utter dismay.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let her give you the realtor special. Your bone structure is too good to make you look like you sell houses and pyramid scheme crap between PTA meetings and lunch with the ladies.”
“Don’t be fooled by the pink. It’s just marketing. Same with the name. Get an old lady to quote Steel Magnolias and she’ll hand over her life savings.”
“And I’ll need the scoop on whatever’s about to happen with that cowboy who’s looking at you like a coyote looks at a little baby bunny.”
“Your daughter is getting bullied by an adult. Celebrity or not, assholes are assholes.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do I even want to know what you’re about to do?” I smirked. “I’m about to be the bigger asshole.”
“You want to be a good dad? Stand up for your kid instead of being amicable. Don’t teach her to play dead just because you don’t want to be confrontational.”
“Just because I don’t sugarcoat things doesn’t mean I’m a heartless bitch. I’m only a bitch for good causes,” she said, her words on tempo with the tip tap of her shoes. “I’m a vigilante bitch.”
“But for the record—I wouldn’t be opposed to you bossing me around, cowboy.” I yanked open the door to the school office. “Are you flirting with me?” “Yes. That should be obvious. Now shut up and let me do the talking.”
“How?” Cassandra pressed. “Because according to the dress code, blouse necklines are to be no lower than three inches below the lowest point of the clavicle. Now, I’m more familiar with things that are bigger than three inches, but I can see how you may be more in tune to things of that size.”
“Head up high. People will whisper. Those people might be teachers. That doesn’t give you a right to talk back. They can only get you in trouble if you break the rules. Don’t give them that opportunity.”
“Right,” Christian said with a smirk. He stopped taking his clothes off to scoop me up and drop me gently onto the mattress. “I forgot. You’re not used to being with someone who can manhandle you.” I rolled my eyes and scooted back against the pillows. “Let me be clear. I do not like being dominated. I’m in charge.”
“The only time you’ll kneel will be over my face so I can pleasure my queen the way she deserves.”
But Christian made me feel like a window pane with spider web cracks racing through the glass.
“You’re more than welcome to ride my beard as much as you want, but right now I want these legs open wide.” I groaned as he slid two fingers inside me. “Least sexy position of all time. I look like a spatchcocked turkey.” He growled and grazed my clit with his teeth as he shoved my legs apart with his shoulders. “Is that what that little bitch boy told you?” “Something like that,”
“That’s right. My fingers in your cunt. My name on your lips. He doesn’t get this body anymore. Not his ring on your finger, not a fucking inkling of him in your mind. I’m going to replace every thought of him. Mark my words, princess.”
“What can I say? I like being bad.” Christian grabbed the condom he had tossed on top of the sheets and handed it to me. “Then enjoy what it feels like to be my good girl.”
His laugh turned into a kiss. “Kings, tyrants, and gods couldn’t resist you, darling. How could I?”
“There’s a lot of gray area in that. You wanna be tied up and teased? I’ve got rope. You want me to pull your hair and turn your ass red? It would be my pleasure, Princess.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body against his chest. “But if you just want me to put you first and make you feel good, you can trust me to do that because making you feel good turns me on.”
“I don’t hate it quite as much as I usually do,” I hedged. “This is like snuggling with a teddy bear.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged his hair out of the mussed bun. “I like it.”
“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” She looked at her right hand as it lay against my chest. “I think it finally hit me last night.” I knew that feeling all too well. Realizing that the person I thought I would spend the rest of my life with was gone without warning.
“Don’t run away from me, princess. Not without leaving a glass slipper.” I kissed the top of her head as she laughed softly. “And if you need a healthy coping mechanism other than avoiding me, you know where to find me.”
“You think I’m a better person than I am. I’m just a bitch and I know how to monetize that.” I tilted my head and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I think you’re a better person than you let yourself believe you are.” Her whisper was a ghost floating against my skin. “All I wanted was some good dick.”
“First of all,” I said as she pulled into a space in front of the nail salon. “I don’t care if he starts dating. That’s his business, not mine.” But the pang in my chest told me I was a dirty liar.
“Look at you.” I scraped my teeth across her nipple. “Goddamn, you take my breath away.”
“Don’t you dare leave a fucking hickey on me like an amateur.” I yanked her head backward again, latching onto her throat. “I will do what I goddamn please. If I want to mark your perfect body, I will fucking do so because it belongs to me.”
She didn’t want to admit it, but I saw the writing on the wall. Cassandra was tough because she had to be. It was a survival instinct. But when she put her claws away and purred, I was so far gone for her.
I tapped my foot. “Want to tell me why you’re skipping school and risking getting in trouble after I went to bat for you?” “You told me to shut up when I’m being asked questions that could get me in trouble,” she whispered. Ray cackled. I bent at the waist and crooked my finger, beckoning her closer. “You’re already there,” I whispered back.
