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DALLAS

T he sight of Frankie growing close to this beautiful stranger warms my heart. I don't want to be smitten, but these two are bound to have me wrapped around their fingers. Damn. Listen to me.

I sigh, shaking my head because dating is the last thing that should be on my mind.

What was supposed to be a fun father-daughter camping trip turned into a disaster. But I have to say that running into Mariah at her ice cream shop was the best thing I could have imagined.

Dinner is delicious, and the ice cream is even better. We're about to put on another movie for Frankie, but it's clear that she can't keep her eyes open much longer.

"She's had a long day," Rye whispers to me as she strokes my daughter's hair.

I know it's not intentional, but as Frankie leans against Rye, I can sense the comfort and safety my daughter feels with this woman. Once Rye started moving her fingers through Frankie's dark brown strands, Frankie dozed off.

I don't know what these feelings surging through me mean. I don't want my heart putting Frankie on the line because I see the potential of who this random stranger could become for the both of us. I resign myself to keeping my distance from the generous woman who owns an ice cream shop.

Memories of the last time I carried Frankie to bed are fleeting. She might have been five or six, and she's definitely heavier than I remember. But the moment I put her in bed, she smiles and turns over. Her breathing is soft, and watching her sleep eases my nerves.

The faintest whisper reaches me as I leave the bedroom. "Night, Dad."

"Good night, Frankie," I tell her softly and head back downstairs. Rye's washing dishes, drawing me close, and I stop myself just as she tosses a glance over her shoulder.

"Is she all tucked in?" she asks, using a towel to dry the wet dishes and place them back into the cabinets. "You can crash in the other bedroom. The sofa in the office pulls out into a bed. I can sleep in there."

"No." My voice is low and gruff as I say, "I'll take the sofa bed, and you take the spare bedroom. You've done more than enough for me and Frankie. I won't let you sleep on a couch on top of that."

Something about the mere mention of what Rye should or shouldn't be sleeping on top of drags my mind down to the gutter. I'd much rather her sleep on top of me, but that's just my little head speaking for the bigger one—the bigger one that knows better. My lack of a love life is no reason to let my lewd imagination take over.

"Sleeping on that couch won't be the hardest thing I've ever slept on," she replies with a grin that sends tingles down my spine.

Tipping my head to the side, I can't stop myself from asking her, "What's the hardest thing you've ever?—"

Before I can get my question out, the storm outside surges. A crash of lightning and an explosion of thunder rattles the walls. My head shifts and my ears perk as I listen for the sounds of Frankie waking up. Thankfully, there's nothing but silence until a thud from outside rattles the two of us.

"I'll go take a look." I move toward my coat hanging by the front door. On the floor right under it is the gun case I bring while traveling. I never leave home without it. However, I don't remember bringing it inside.

I'm certain the confusion on my face propels her to speak as Rye says, "I brought it in. Doesn't make sense to leave that in the car. It won't be of much use to anyone out there."

I give her a slight nod. "Thank you. I didn't want to assume or bring it in here without letting you know I have that with me."

"It's fine, Dallas. Truly, it is. I'm actually surprised you don't have more firearms since y'all were going to be camping," she says, walking toward me and drying her hands with the dish towel.

The slightest whiff of raspberries comes off her hair as she moves by me to squat and examine the case. She doesn't touch it but eyes it with curiosity. When I kneel beside her, our bodies lightly touch. It ignites something buried deep inside of me. Buried so deep I’ve forgotten what it feels like, and the intensity is almost like a gut punch.

To avoid putting my foot in my mouth or using my mouth to capture hers, I grab the case and rise to my feet. When I extend my hand for her to take, the graze of our palms touching is like a jolt to my system. Blood and primitive urges of excitement course through my body at a pace that has my heart pounding.

The desperate yearning of my body to be close to hers is distracting me from going outside to check on the noise. Her supple pink lips, perfectly kissable in every way. The curves of her silhouette make me want to take her into my arms and hold her against me forever.

Delicately shaking away my burgeoning sexual fantasies, I find my voice to tell her, "I didn't want to bring an entire arsenal with me. I picked one of the sites that have a mix of stuff for kids and campers. The campsite has showers, a pool, and a bunch of stuff to make sure everyone has plenty to do. With all that entertainment, they keep wildlife and riff-raff at bay."

"Wildlife and riff-raff, huh?" she chuckles. "That sounds like one of those things my dad says."

Jesus. I don't want to sound old.

"How old are you?" I ask her.

"Twenty-five."

"Thirty-six," I reply. "You're so young and running that ice cream shop all by yourself?"

She shrugs. "My first job about a decade ago was there. When the previous owner wanted to retire, they left the business to me. I've only ever worked there. So youth and experience don't exactly line up here."

"I'm impressed," I admit, but the perverted corners of my mind bully their way to the forefront. I can't stop myself from wondering about her experience in other aspects of her life. I want to know what her hand looks like wrapping around my cock, what her tongue tastes like, how that ass of hers feels bouncing up and down on my lap.

Thankfully, someone knocks on the door, causing Rye to yelp and turn into me for protection. It's instinctual between us as I grab her around the waist to hold her steady. I can only hope that she doesn't feel the hardness growing behind the crotch of my jeans.

The softness of her body against mine is better than I could have ever imagined. Her subtle floral and fruity scent washes over me like I'm walking through a meadow. She's like sunshine in my arms, but another round of hard knocks against the door snaps me out of this euphoria.

I shuffle Rye behind me as I unlatch my Glock, arm it, and approach the door to open it. She's only a few inches behind me. Her small fingertips clutch my shirt with every step. I want to feel her body against my back, but the fantasy has to wait. The door swings open to reveal a familiar face rather than an intruding stranger.

"Chase?" we both ask simultaneously.

I turn to face Rye, who locks eyes with me as we both ask in unison, "How do you know Chase?"

I holster my weapon after ejecting the bullet in the chamber to add it back to the clip. Chase steps out of the rain, puts a large crate on the ground, and laughs. "How did you two hook up? Where's the munchkin?"

"Sleeping upstairs," I tell him as we embrace.

"How is this a thing?" Rye gestures with a finger between me and Chase.

I laugh. "We went to high school together, and he does work on my clients' cars."

Chase adds, "And now I also help manage this property. My fiancee runs the place. She said to come check on our sister. I'll happily let Maddie know that Rye's in good hands. It's such a small world. Maddie also said something about you having car trouble?"

"Yeah, I took Frankie to Whitewater. The rain flooded the grounds. Then my car just up and gave out on us about a block away from her ice cream shop. Well, it didn't give up so much as I gave up. There is a clanging noise that's gotten too loud to ignore."

"Are you parked near the curb or in the middle of the street? I can take a ride into town to haul it to my shop if you want."

Rye doesn't like the sound of that any more than I do as she protests, "Chase, stay with Maddie. There's already debris flying around from this storm. Something just crashed out there?—"

"Don't worry about me, Rye," Chase tells her. "I'll take a look out back on my way to the main house. Inside the box is a two-way radio. The channels are set to the ones in the main house, just in case things get a bit sketchy out here. The main road is flooded, but we should be all right since we're about a mile off."

"And thankfully, we're uphill from there. Don't worry about the car, Chase. I'll take care of it as soon as I can. Thanks for coming out here and for bringing this," I tell him as I stoop down to grab the crate.

"Yeah, there's some other supplies and a bunch of food in case the power goes out. It's likely that we won't get flooded, but if we have to get out of here, we'll need some rowboats. Keep the channels open, and I'll keep y'all updated." He tips his head to both of us." You two, have a good night."

Once he leaves, I start unpacking the box. Rye doesn't let me do it alone.

"I can't believe you know Chase," she says. "I can picture the two of you running around in high school, leaving destruction and broken hearts trailing behind you."

"We kind of kept to ourselves. I ended up with my high school girlfriend, married her, and then we had Frankie. We were divorced two years later. Frankie's mom, Shelly, took off when Frankie was around two. It's been seven years now, and not a peep out of her."

The moment I feel Rye's hand stroking my shoulder, I'm reminded that I'm doing the exact opposite of what I should. I want to keep my guard up, but Rye has this unarming sincerity about her. She pulls this protective beast out of me, making me want to bring her home with Frankie and me. Rye makes me feel free to express all of my emotions. Passion and lust are fighting for the top spot.

"I'm sorry, Dallas. It's been about seven years since my mom died. I understand holding a spot for someone who's not coming back."

"Shelly's definitely not coming back, but I don't want to talk about that. How do you come up with such amazing ice cream flavors? I know Frankie's going to want one named after her." My eyes drift up, where my daughter is still sound asleep.

"I will try just about anything that pops into my head. I've done matcha green tea with a coconut cream swirl and white chocolate chips. It did very well at a pop-up shop in LA, but not so much out here. I can offer my more eccentric flavors as specialty, made-to-order items. I guess I'm not afraid to fail."

"How long have you had the ice cream shop?"

"About four years now. It was rough in the beginning, but I finally have a system that works. I have good employees and a strong town that loves homemade ice cream year-round."

I walk to the freezer and pull out a small pint-sized carton of peach cobbler ice cream.

"This one is my favorite. Who thinks of adding peach cobbler to ice cream?" I ask with a spoonful hovering above the container. I move toward Rye and hold the spoon out to her.

She wraps her lips around it and moans with delight. "I forgot how good that one is."

"I really like the s'mores one, too. That graham cracker swirl with the dark chocolate chips is amazing."

She snickers and goes into the freezer to pull out another container of ice cream. "You should get it at On the Rocks. My oldest sister, Mackenna, well, we call her Kennie. Anyway, she and the bartender, Dean, are an item. Kennie worked a deal out for the bar and my shop. So he combined this s'mores ice cream with some coconut rum and made a mudslide milkshake thing. He torches a marshmallow on top, and oh my God, it's to die for."

She scoops a spoonful out and offers it to me, which I take against my better judgment. Every minute we spend together is another minute I want to let Mariah in. She has such a delicate name, but I see strength and resilience as she talks about what she loves. It lets my imagination wander to a time in the future when her eyes light up the same way when she talks about us.

"Ice cream and rum sounds pretty damn good," I admit.

Rye reaches down into the box and pulls out a bottle of vodka. Both of our eyes light up as we head into the freezer to grab more cartons of ice cream. This day isn't going the way I planned, but I'm falling in love with the way it's ending.