Read Online Cowboy Daddy by Susan Mallery - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Mallery
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the far end. “Laurel must have seen something on TV or read it in a book,” she said, ignoring his bad temper. “I know you don’t like me or trust me. I know you didn’t want me to meet her in the first place. That’s okay. But I’d never ever do anything to hurt Laurel.” She stiffened. She’d almost said “my daughter.” That would have sent Jake over the edge for sure. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
He grimaced. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t believe that one, either.”
She resisted the urge to throw something at him. “I’m not the enemy.” She tucked one leg under her and shifted until she was facing him. “We have to work together and decide what’s best for Laurel.”
“We don’t have to work together at all. You don’t have any rights here. She’s coming home with me.”
“You’re just going to tell her that?”
“Yes.”
She put her soda down on the coffee table. Leaning toward him, she said, “Then you’ll lose her. Don’t let your anger at me and your fear cloud your judgment.” She reached out to touch his arm. “Please, Jake—”
Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. She could feel the strength of his fingers and the heat from his body. He turned toward her, his brown eyes blazing with fire.
“Don’t you tell me what to do with my daughter. You lost that right the day you gave her up.”
Despite the anger and dark emotion swirling between them, her body responded to his touch. Her quivering skin betrayed her. Sparks arced between the two of them. She could feel the individual imprints of his fingers as if the fire in his gaze reached down to sear her wrist.
He hated her more than he could say, he thought she’d conspired to turn his daughter against him, he correctly reminded her that she’d lost all claims to Laurel. And he could turn her on with the slightest touch. In her belly, wanting swelled, flowing higher to her breasts, and lower between her legs.
He dropped her wrist as if the fire that had been consuming her suddenly turned on him. Before she could say anything, the bedroom door opened and Laurel stepped out.
She’d washed her face and tied her hair back into a ponytail. With her scrubbed skin, and wearing a matching shorts set, she looked more like a child than a young lady. But there was a knowing sadness in her eyes.
“Daddy, don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” he said, sounding weary.
“But you don’t want me to stay with Annie.”
“No, I don’t.”
Laurel lifted up her chin. “You don’t understand. And you won’t give her a chance.” She looked helplessly at Anne. “Can you explain it to him?”
“Come here, honey.” Anne beckoned the girl over. Laurel stepped between them and settled on the coffee table. She angled her body away from her father. Anne straightened in her seat and took Laurel’s hands in her own. She studied the short nails and stubby fingers. “You have Bobby’s hands,” she said without looking up. “He was a boy I liked in high school.”
“My—” Laurel glanced at Jake. She couldn’t say the word, but Anne knew what she was thinking.
“I dated him for almost two years. I thought we were in love.” She gave Laurel a quick smile but didn’t dare look at her father. “He was three years older than me. He rode in the rodeo.”
“Really?” Laurel sounded pleased. “A professional cowboy. Cool. What did he do?”
“He rode bulls.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“I know.” With the telling, the memories threatened. It was easy to keep them locked up day after day until she almost forgot she had them in storage. Now they came forward into her mind, a kaleidoscope of moments. Bobby so tall and handsome, laughing. His hot, eager young body. Her inexperienced desire to please. The devastating pain when he’d left her.
“He started doing well at local events,” she continued, “so he left to go on the national circuit. When I
He grimaced. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t believe that one, either.”
She resisted the urge to throw something at him. “I’m not the enemy.” She tucked one leg under her and shifted until she was facing him. “We have to work together and decide what’s best for Laurel.”
“We don’t have to work together at all. You don’t have any rights here. She’s coming home with me.”
“You’re just going to tell her that?”
“Yes.”
She put her soda down on the coffee table. Leaning toward him, she said, “Then you’ll lose her. Don’t let your anger at me and your fear cloud your judgment.” She reached out to touch his arm. “Please, Jake—”
Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. She could feel the strength of his fingers and the heat from his body. He turned toward her, his brown eyes blazing with fire.
“Don’t you tell me what to do with my daughter. You lost that right the day you gave her up.”
Despite the anger and dark emotion swirling between them, her body responded to his touch. Her quivering skin betrayed her. Sparks arced between the two of them. She could feel the individual imprints of his fingers as if the fire in his gaze reached down to sear her wrist.
He hated her more than he could say, he thought she’d conspired to turn his daughter against him, he correctly reminded her that she’d lost all claims to Laurel. And he could turn her on with the slightest touch. In her belly, wanting swelled, flowing higher to her breasts, and lower between her legs.
He dropped her wrist as if the fire that had been consuming her suddenly turned on him. Before she could say anything, the bedroom door opened and Laurel stepped out.
She’d washed her face and tied her hair back into a ponytail. With her scrubbed skin, and wearing a matching shorts set, she looked more like a child than a young lady. But there was a knowing sadness in her eyes.
“Daddy, don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” he said, sounding weary.
“But you don’t want me to stay with Annie.”
“No, I don’t.”
Laurel lifted up her chin. “You don’t understand. And you won’t give her a chance.” She looked helplessly at Anne. “Can you explain it to him?”
“Come here, honey.” Anne beckoned the girl over. Laurel stepped between them and settled on the coffee table. She angled her body away from her father. Anne straightened in her seat and took Laurel’s hands in her own. She studied the short nails and stubby fingers. “You have Bobby’s hands,” she said without looking up. “He was a boy I liked in high school.”
“My—” Laurel glanced at Jake. She couldn’t say the word, but Anne knew what she was thinking.
“I dated him for almost two years. I thought we were in love.” She gave Laurel a quick smile but didn’t dare look at her father. “He was three years older than me. He rode in the rodeo.”
“Really?” Laurel sounded pleased. “A professional cowboy. Cool. What did he do?”
“He rode bulls.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“I know.” With the telling, the memories threatened. It was easy to keep them locked up day after day until she almost forgot she had them in storage. Now they came forward into her mind, a kaleidoscope of moments. Bobby so tall and handsome, laughing. His hot, eager young body. Her inexperienced desire to please. The devastating pain when he’d left her.
“He started doing well at local events,” she continued, “so he left to go on the national circuit. When I
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