Page 62 of Risking it for the Cowboy

“No idea. Each time I go back to court to fight for sole custody, Judge Mitchell shoots it down and says stripping parental rights is something they only consider in extreme cases. Guess Jason hasn’t become too extreme yet.”

“Mitchell?” That inkling from a second ago took root in his mind.

What was a judge doing holding bond court on a weekend?

“I thought I had at least until tomorrow to get down to the police station to file for a new restraining order.”

“You got a good lawyer?”

She huffed sardonically. “I mean, I’ve got a lawyer.”

He pressed his lips to her temple and closed his eyes. She hadn’t said good.

“How do you know him?” she asked.

“Shady business deal. Our bands did a show together some years back at a music fest. He pocketed our share of the profits.”

She shook her head against him harder. “God … he just uses people. Last night he was supposed to take Daisy to the carnival and then—God, I—”

“Shh,” he crooned softly, cheek resting against her knotted hair. So silky.

“He … lets her down, constantly. And then I have to pick up all the broken pieces, and it breaks my heart because all she wants is a daddy who loves her. And all he does is puts me down, embarrasses me. Two-dimensional ditz, Legally Blonde…” Her whisper broke.

The words rested on his ears. Loaded words. Yet so simple. A lover shouldn’t ever be a competitor. And a daddy didn’t have to be blood. A daddy was the one who should love Daisy the most. How could a man look at that little sweetheart with anything other than stars in his eyes?

Whoa, he caught himself.

Like he was actually dad material. Like they were actually an item. And yet, him, her, her little girl, weren’t they all just dangling roots searching for soil to settle into and call home? Why couldn’t they tangle together?

You’d have to be honest with her. Convince her you won’t hurt her like he did.

“So you let him kill your passion? ’S this why you got a wall of diplomas? You got something to prove?” he murmured. “You could earn more running a florist shop or a plant nursery.”

“Maybe so,” she argued back, “but the benefits package from a big organization like the university are attractive—”

“You could get the benefits working as their janitor,” he whispered, kissing her temple, nudging her with gentle tugs. “What’re you trying to prove?”

“Nothing—”

“Bullshit, baby. What’re you trying to prove?”

“That I’m not a statistic.” The words blurted out, unleashing the pent-up dam. “That I’m not some walking blond joke. I want to be someone Daisy’s proud of. I want to prove I could make it in spite of him. I want to be someone I’m proud of because I know no one else is prou…”

“Proud of you,” he croaked, finishing her thought.

She’d chosen to become a brainiac. Jason’s quips had hurt her young heart just as much as his hands had. She was working her ass off for redemption.

“Baby,” he crooned.

“God, T.R. I lost everything. My dignity. My only chance to go to college for free and get out from under my mom’s thumb. I was so naive. I didn’t realize Jason was just using me. Which is why I vowed never to let it happen again.”

She’d sent T.R. packing. Maybe because Jason was blazing a path to her door with Daisy in tow. But now he realized, she’d also been afraid of falling victim to the same trap again too.

“And in the end, I lost it all anyway.”

Naw, she’d gained her voice. Her grit. And her little girl. All while ignoring the open wounds festering within her like a blight, hoping they’d just go away.

He knew what it was like to feel like an idiot. He knew what it was like to not have his parents’ respect. He tasted peppermint and tears. She hungered for validation. Just like him.