Page 10 of Rough Daddy (REAL DADDIES: Boone Brothers #5)

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 his brother. “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.

"Thank you," I manage, shaking his hand and trying not to cry because they all feel so… genuine.

Colt, the sheriff, stands to the side of the Buick as Beau disappears under the hood again, holding a phone, eyes scanning.

He doesn’t talk much but he watches everything.

All four of these Boone boys hit the genetic jackpot, that’s all I have to say.

Although there’s something extra about Beau.

.. He’s old enough maybe to be my father, but man, all my daddy issues have centered themselves right on top of my clit and are doing a hell of a tap dance.

"She knows her way around an engine, too," Beau says, and the pride in his voice makes my stomach flutter. He talks about me like I'm something precious he wants to show off. "Next time you have a transmission problem, ask her."

When we came in, I couldn’t help but pause at the two cars on ramps. I blurted something dumb about the Buick’s V6, outing myself as the nerd I am. Beau must’ve filed it away, the same way he seems to file away everything I say.

"I'm book smart, as they say," I deflect, heat crawling up my neck. "Little practical experience. I could probably talk you through advanced robotics, but I've never actually touched a soldering iron."

"No shit? Beauty, brains, and modesty." Cade raises his eyebrows, turning my way. “You sure you’ve met my brother Beau? Have you hit your head recently? Taken magic mushrooms?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Beau snaps, lifting his head so fast he bangs it against the edge of the open car hood. “And stop looking at her.”

Cade and Jack both snort.

“I’m gonna get some coffee.” Cade hides his smile behind his hand, walking away.

“Leave a fifty next to the coffee maker,” Beau grunts, but Cade answers with a middle finger behind his back.

“She’s way above your pay grade, brother, but congrats,” Jack says, then turns my way. “And my sympathies. My wife will explain it all to you. The Boone boys know what they want and don’t take no for an answer. We also are known to be bossy.”

Heat crawls up my neck.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Then again.

I ignore it.

"So, you thinking about sticking around?" Jack asks, settling onto a stool with the easy confidence of someone who's always belonged somewhere. "Been awhile since we last had a new sister to spoil."

The question catches me off guard.

Am I sticking around? Is he saying I would be a new sister-in-law?

Jesus, Wildfire is wilder than I thought. I barely know Beau Boone, and his brother thinks we’re already destined to walk down the aisle.

When I got here, I was running from everything I'd ever known. Now I'm standing in a garage in the middle of nowhere, wearing clothes that smell like motor oil, and feeling more myself than I have in years.

"Maybe," I admit. "It's peaceful here."

Another buzz from my pocket. That's three in quick succession. I have three bars here in town, I could call…

I glance at the texts, seeing Ethan’s name, and my heart starts to thunder. I can’t face it, can’t face all the bullshit with my parents and the social media. Even for Ethan, I can’t do it. The spinning feeling starts again inside my head.

Just one more night, I promise myself as I flick the switch, putting it on silent.

One more night, Ethan, then I’ll find a way to deal with our real life. I promise.

"Peaceful's one word for it," Colt says dryly. "City people might consider it boring."

"Hey." Beau's head snaps up, and there's steel in his voice. "She said it was peaceful. Shut the fuck up."

The protective edge in his voice makes my pulse skip. Like he's genuinely worried I might leave. Like keeping me here matters to him.

Cade comes back into the work area, blowing on a mug of coffee, grinning. "She doesn’t look too city to me. Besides, look at him, already gone full Daddy Bear on us."

"Damn right, I am," Beau says without shame, and the brothers all laugh like this is exactly what they expected.

If only you knew, I think, remembering the months of online harassment, the death threats, the leaked photos and cruel memes. I survived a public execution. A small-town garage full of sexy men that look like they’ve eaten steroids for breakfast since they were toddlers feels like paradise.

An hour later, the brothers have dispersed, Dolores has kicked us all out, and we’re walking down the postcard main street of Wildfire.

There's a hardware store, a diner that looks like it hasn't changed since 1955, and a small park with a gazebo where music is floating on the air and it all feels like a Gilmore Girls episode.

The melody swims through my ears and around my heart as I watch couples sway and spin in the little town square.

"Dance with me," I say impulsively, turning to face Beau, hoping a direct request will be hard to deny.

I need to break through this no-touching nonsense before my ovaries melt down.

He freezes. "I don't dance."

He didn’t say no.

"Neither do I. Not really." I step closer, emboldened by the happiness and the way his eyes are tracking my every movement. "But there's music. And we're here. And I want to remember this."

"Tina..." He half moans.

"Please?" I reach for his hands, threading our fingers together, holding my breath to see if he jerks away. He doesn’t. "Just one song."

For a moment, he just stares at our joined hands like they’re a new alien life form landed right here in Wildfire. Then, slowly, he lets me pull him toward the gazebo.

The first touch of his palms at my waist steals my breath. His face looks pained but he's so careful. And when I press closer, close enough that our bodies brush with each movement, something shifts in his expression.

"Jesus," he breathes, and suddenly his hands are firmer, fingertips starting to dig in. He’s guiding me, leading me, holding me like he’s never going to let go.

We move together like we've been doing this for years. His thigh brushes between mine, his hand slides lower on my back, and I forget everything except the heat of his body and the way he's looking at me.

Like I'm his whole world.

"I could get used to this," I whisper, tipping my head back to meet his eyes.

"Yeah?" His voice is barely a rumble. "What else could you get used to?"

You. Everything about you. This life, this town, this feeling of being wanted for who I am, instead of what I represent.

But before I can answer, a camera flashes to my left. Click, click, click in quick succession as a guy heads toward me.

I freeze. Horror washes over me as my trauma response kicks in.

Beau growls, and steps between us. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He grabs for the camera but the guy steps back. "Hey, it's a free country, mate." British accent. Slicked back hair. Just another creep with a camera who very likely recognizes me. "Just taking some photos of the pretty lady."

Click, click.

"Let's get out of here," I mutter, my heart about to pop through my chest.

Paparazzi are a hazard of having a social following bigger than some rock stars, but this could be anyone. A creep, a wannabe photographer, someone hoping to post photos and tag me for traction and money. Or he could just be some guy, taking photos of his vacation in Wildfire, Michigan.

How am I going to explain my panic to Beau?

"Please?"

The guy raises the camera again. "Come on, beautiful. Don't be shy now. You're too gorgeous not to share with the world. How about a smile for me? Blow a kiss. Those lips are famous—"

“Beau! Let’s go.” I pull at his shoulder as the spinning starts. My therapist said it’s a dissociative fear response. My brain disconnecting from my body as fight or flight kicks in.

Hormones flood my system. This is exactly what I ran from. Being reduced to an object, a collection of assumptions and predatory attention. Being treated like public property.

Click, click, click.

The familiar sound of rapid-fire photography has my vision tunneling.

Click, click.

“What you doing in Wildfire—?" The man's words are cut off in a gurgle as Beau's hand clamps around his throat.

"You take one more fucking picture," Beau growls, "and I'll break every fucking bone in your body."

A second later, he rips the camera away with his free hand, throws it on the ground and stomps on it with a very expensive-sounding crunch.

The sudden violence should scare me. It should remind me of my father's rage, of every man who ever used his strength to intimidate and control.

Instead, all I feel is relief.

Beau isn't hurting me. He's protecting me. And for the first time in my adult life, someone is fighting for me instead of trying to profit from me.

The guy's mouth falls open as he stares at his wrecked camera. "Hey. What the fuck—"

He turtles up as Beau steps forward with a growl. “Cameras don’t bleed, but you sure as fuck will.”

"You heard him." I lean out from behind Beau. "Get. Lost."

I tuck myself next to his massive body, which feels like it’s turned to concrete. His arms come around me, locking me against him.

"Problem here?" Colt appears out of nowhere, stepping forward with his thumbs hooked into his gun belt. Jack and Cade flank him, a wall of Boone brothers that would intimidate a grizzly bear.

"Yeah, there's a problem. This psycho just broke my fucking camera. You have any idea how much that shit is worth?"

Colt turns to Beau. "That right, brother?"

Beau shrugs. "It was an accident."

Colt nods, turns back to the guy. "Accidents happen. That's why God invented insurance."

"Especially around here," Jack adds, conversationally. "Lot of accidents happen here in Wildfire, isn’t that right, Sheriff?" Jack shrugs as Colt nods. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders messing with our family.”

Family.

Jack winks my way.

They all stare him down. A united front of muscle and menace that makes the photographer back away, his hands raised.

"I get it," he says quickly. "Just a misunderstanding. Won't happen again."

“Probably need to find your fucking way out of Wildfire. Mate .” Beau steps forward and the guy spins and takes off, cursing but moving at a smart pace.

“I’ll follow him out of town,” Colt says. “Welcome to the family, Tina.”

I should be shaking. Should be traumatized by the reminder of how vulnerable I am to men like this. I should explain my overreaction, right now, tell him everything and let the dice fall. This man— these men —just stood up for me without question, and I owe Beau honesty.

But this, right here? That's what I always dreamed of. People who'll stand up for me without wanting anything in return. People who see me for who I am, not what I'm worth.

"Beau," I start, trying to find the words. But I don't want to ruin everything, not when I've finally found a place where I belong. "Let’s go home."

The word home hangs between us, loaded with meaning neither of us is ready to examine. But when Beau's pale-blue eyes darken and his hands tighten on my waist, I know he heard it too.

He reads through the words, his hand still locked around me.

“Home’s too far. Garage. My second home."

I want this. I want him.

Even if it can't last forever. Even if there's a fifteen-year-old boy back home who's probably wondering why his sister abandoned him, and will never forgive her for choosing some stranger over him.

"Good man," Jack says, clapping Beau on the shoulder. "Take care of your girl."

"Always," Beau promises, and the certainty in his voice makes my heart race.

The second we're around the corner of the hardware store, out of sight from the crowd, Beau pins me against the brick wall. His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and desperate.

"Fuck, Tina. You don't get it. I'll fucking wreck you."

"Let me see the real you," I interrupt, a fierceness growing inside me. "I promise I won't break. I want to hurt. I want to remember."

"You want the real me?" His hands slide under my shirt, spanning my ribs. "I'll split you in half. I'll leave marks all over this perfect skin so you remember who fucking owns you. You ready for that, little girl?"

"Yes," I gasp, arching into his touch. "All of you. Stop protecting me from what I want."

Something snaps in his expression. The careful control finally cracks, and what's left behind makes me gush between my legs.

"Garage. Right fucking now." He locks his thick fingers around my wrist. "Because if we don't move, I'm gonna bend you over right fucking here and show this whole town who you belong to."