Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek)

“I still don’t want to be a stepfather,” he said and did the unthinkable. He smirked again.

Grrrr. I wanted to slap that smug grin off his perfect face. Damn him and damn my girly parts for going all tingly. Whatever. What I saw firsthand today would only add to my annihilation of him later. “You better get going before the press gets wind of your impending fatherhood.”

His face dimmed. Score one for this girl. I walked away, mentally cheering myself.

I’d dropped Zoe at the diner where Haley worked. Zoe had a doctor after Haley’s shift ended. I’d been on my way back when I’d run into him. It surprised me he wasn’t in the sports car I’d seen him in. He’d obviously gotten a clue that Montana winters weren’t made for boy toy cars.

Then I drove to my mother’s. We were having lunch before my afternoon shift at the garage. I had too much time to think on the way to Billings, and my head went back to Nathaniel too many times during the drive.

On the one hand, he could be somewhat charming. Like when he’d brought me the hot toddy and even the way he’d kissed me under the mistletoe. The kiss. It hadn’t been too much. He hadn’t tried to stick his tongue down my throat, and he hadn’t called me ugly names after I’d slapped him. At the same time, he’d been a royal ass. I couldn’t decide how I felt about him.

I parked in front of a pretty little house on a pretty little street in a pretty little cookie-cutter suburb in Billings that made my mother happy. There was nothing wrong with it, but I much preferred the run-down house on a hill that was far from its neighbors in Mountainside. It had more character than the house Mom lived in, which was a twin for the houses on either side of it.

The doorbell made a perfect chime and Mom’s hurried footsteps could be heard. The door swung open, and I was immediately engulfed in her warmth. When she pulled back, she cupped my face.

“It feels like forever,” she said.

“It was just a few weeks ago.” I admitted I didn’t come often enough. The drive was long, but manageable.

“Come in,” she said, ushering me inside.

The house was as pretty on the inside as it was on the outside. Everything had its place with little knickknacks here and there, with family pictures on the wall. Nothing was cluttered. It was all very beige. The walls, the furniture, the décor.

She led me to the kitchen, which was the only room with spots of color, if you considered gray cabinets color. “Sit,” she said, urging me onto a bar stool. “Tom will be down shortly. Tell me everything. How is your job search going?”

It wasn’t as if we didn’t talk on the phone, but I indulged her. “A lot of sorry, we aren’t hiring right now,” I said.

“Have you submitted any freelance pieces? I just hate to see your journalism degree go to waste.”

“I’m working on one,” I said cryptically. I smiled when I thought of the headline. Bastard. It had a nice ring to it. The Bowmen brother didn’t know what was coming for him. I considered our every encounter research.

“You know, you should start your own paper. A small one for the town.” She referred to Mountainside.

“What am I going to write about? How Dell got drunk and beat his wife again?” That was made up, but probably would fit someone in town.

“Exactly,” a booming voice said that preceded a man.

Tom was a big guy with a head full of silver hair, a cowboy from days of old. He’d retired and sold off his land to a developer, as so many did these days. Now he spent his time making Mom happy, which made me happy.

“Get your name out there. Write about the gossip factually so people can stop spreading rumors.”

“I don’t have the money for that.” Not to mention I hardly thought that would get me a paying job.

“I could fund you,” he offered. “You’d be doing the town a service. You may even get ads from local businesses. Put it online. Who knows where it could go from there.”

There was only one problem with his plan—him. Dad would blow a gasket if he found out Tom was giving me money.

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

Mom covered my hand and squeezed. She knew my hesitation, but neither of us would bring it up and make Tom feel uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat. “In other news”—she glanced at Tom—“we’ve decided to get married.” She slid over an envelope I hadn’t noticed.

I made an outward appearance of shock, as I’d seen it coming. The envelope was cream, which shouldn’t surprise me. I opened it and slid the card out from the gold foil inside.