Page 49 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
"Dan, son, what are you doing here?" My voice comes out rough, the question absurd given the circumstances.
Skye scrambles to cover herself, yanking her shirt down and fumbling for her underwear. Her face drains of color as she looks at Dan. I’m thinking it must be from the embarrassment of being mostly naked until she speaks.
"Daniel?" she whispers.
My brain struggles to catch up. She knows him? How does she?—
And then it hits me like a punch to the gut. Daniel. Not Dan, as I've always called him. Daniel. Skye's cheating ex-boyfriend. Daniel. My son.
Jesus fucking Christ.
"Skye?" Daniel's voice cracks. His eyes dart between us, narrowing as comprehension sets in. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
The venom in his voice makes me stand, instinctively positioning myself between him and Skye. I grab my shirt off the ground and pass it back to her without looking.
"Daniel, calm down," I say, trying to sound reasonable despite my anger.
"Calm down?" He laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. "I drive all the way out to this backwoods town to talk to my father for the first time in years, and I find him going down on my ex-girlfriend. And you want me to calm down?"
I glance back at Skye. She's wrapped my shirt around her lower half, her eyes wide. She meets my gaze, and I see the question there: How is this possible?
I wonder the same thing.
"How do you know each other?" Daniel demands, jabbing a finger between Skye and me.
Before I can answer, Skye finds her voice. "My car broke down on my way to Wyoming. Though it’s absolutely none of your fucking business.”
“She’s been working at the bar I own.”
"Since when did you buy a bar?" Daniel's eyes narrow at me.
"Five years ago," I reply tersely. "If you'd returned any of my calls, I would have told you."
Daniel ignores the jab. His focus returns to Skye, his face twisting into a cruel smirk. "So your car breaks down, and you immediately jump into bed with the nearest available man?"
I feel my face heat with anger. "That's enough, Dan."
"It's Daniel," he snaps. "I haven't gone by Dan since high school."
"Daniel," I emphasize his name. "You don't get to talk to her that way."
My son stares at me like I'm a stranger. And I guess I am. I haven't seen him since I visited him a long time ago, when he was barely out of his teens. He'd been sullen then, refusing to speak to me beyond clipped one-word answers. He blamed me for the divorce, for not fighting harder to keep our family together.
Now he stands before me, a full-grown man who looks so much like I did at his age. Except for the beard—or lack thereof. My hand drifts unconsciously to my own.
"How can this be happening?" Skye asks from behind me, her voice small but steady.
Daniel's eyes flash to her. "That’s a great fucking question, Skye. Only you would know how you ended up fucking the man who abandoned my mom and me when I was fourteen."
The accusation hangs in the air. I want to defend myself, to explain that his mother was the one who left, who took him halfway across the country, who poisoned him against me. But what's the point? He made up his mind years ago.
"I obviously didn’t know," Skye says, her voice stronger now. "He only mentioned you a couple of times and he called you Dan.”
Daniel snorts. "He talked about me? That's rich. Did he tell you what a terrible son I am for not keeping in touch? I’m guessing he left out the part where he walked away from us without a backward glance…"
"That's not what happened, and you know it," I say, struggling to keep my voice level. "Your mother left me. She's the one who moved you to Florida. I tried to stay in your life. I called every weekend. I sent letters. I flew out for every birthday until you told me to stop coming."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he dismisses me with a wave of his hand. His eyes fix on Skye again. "How long has this been going on? Were you seeing him while we were still together?"
