Page 25 of Rough Daddy
"Yeah." She grins.
Christ, it's like watching the sun come up. If we stay here, I’ll crack. I know I will.
"I want to see everything."
Ten minutes into the drive, I’m watching her fidget with the radio dial like it’s her own personal stress ball. My girl shouldn't be nervous about meeting people. If only she knew how perfect she is, how much everyone is going to love her.
I clear my throat and try to make conversation to keep her calm.
"So what did you do before coming here?" I keep my voice casual, even though I already know every detail of her rise and fall. "Back in the real world?"
She goes still for a second, then shrugs. "Social media stuff. Nothing too exciting."
The deflection is smooth, but I catch the way her shoulders tense.
I shouldn’t push it, but I want her to tell me things. I want to hear her voice, know her story. All of it. The real story, the one that she doesn’t tell the cameras.
"Must have been good at it," I press gently. "To afford a Tesla and twenty-three suitcases."
She laughs, but it sounds forced. "I got lucky with a few things." Her fingers twist in her lap. "So, you’re close with your brothers?"
Nice subject change, princess. But I let her have it.
"Too close. They’re younger, all pains in my ass." The familiar ground relaxes her, and I'm rewarded with a real smile. "They'll probably show up at some point to interrogate you."
"Interrogate me?" She laughs. "About what?"
"About how I managed to land someone so far out of my league."
Land her.God, is that what I’ve done? Landed Tessa Quinn?
She turns in her seat to face me, and thank God she doesn’t laugh at my assumption that I’ve landed her like a trout. "You're not giving yourself enough credit."
She means it. Whatever she's running from, whatever she's hiding, right now she means it.
"We'll see if you still think that after you see how I live my life," I say, pulling into the garage parking lot. "Small-town glamor, it is not."
Nine
Tessa
I've never been part of a family before.
Not a real one. Growing up, "family time" meant strategy sessions about my brand. Analyzing engagement metrics over dinner. Planning content calendars instead of vacations.
But watching the Boone brothers together in Beau's garage is like seeing a foreign species in their natural habitat. They roast each other mercilessly, work in perfect synchronization, and protect each other with a ferocity that makes my chest ache.
"So someone’s finally got our grumpy brother smiling," says Cade, the wilderness guide I met briefly yesterday. He's leaning against a tool cabinet, arms crossed, studying me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve. "About time someone came along to tame the beast."
"He smiles?" I tease, glancing at Beau where he's bent over inspecting the engine of a Buick. "I hadn't noticed."
"Smart ass," Beau mutters, coming out from under the hood, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitching. He points at hisbrother. “You shouldn’t even fucking be here. Don’t you have a job? And you...” He turns to Jack. “You suddenly have an interest in learning a new trade? Fucking Dolores can’t keep a secret to save the world from a meteorite.”
Jack, the oldest after Beau, shoots him a look, but ignores him and steps my way. He’s more controlled than the rest. Everything feels calculated.
"Welcome to Wildfire," he says simply, offering his hand. "Any friend of Beau's is family to us. Fair warning though: he's got that protective Daddy streak.” He leans down playfully. “Runs in the family."
He was the only brother here when we came in. But it didn’t take long for the other two to arrive, smiling, through the back door of the garage.
