Chapter Nine
Judd Mathews
FUCK. ME.
Leighton Mitchell is wearing cutoff denim shorts and cowgirl boots. How is it possible that she just walked into my barn wearing the two things that turn me on more than anything else in this world?
Her legs don’t stretch for miles the way most guys like. Hers are short but shapely—not too muscular, not too skinny. They’re sexy as fuck. And I know that they’d feel perfect wrapped around me.
Dammit.
I can’t have thoughts like that about my daughter’s nanny. She’s my employee. Thinking about her beneath me is wrong. She’s a good girl, and I’m a dick for letting the thought even cross my mind.
But I can’t help myself. I’m so fucking horny. I haven’t been with a woman since Scarlett was born four months ago. I don’t remember the last time I went this long without sex.
I need to get off even if it’s with my own hand. That’s the only thing that might help me to stop having these thoughts about her.
Leighton holds up a basket. “I peeked. Your mom went all out.”
“What did she send?”
“A charcuterie platter with cheeses and grapes and a bottle of wine. And I think that I saw some fresh honey.”
A horseback ride. A charcuterie platter. Cheeses. Grapes. Wine.
No peanut butter and jelly with Coca-Colas.
Shit. Diane Mathews is playing matchmaker. It’s clear as day.
Does Leighton see it? Fuck, I hope not. She’s a professional. It would be disastrous for Scarlett and me if she were to feel sexually harassed on the job.
“Are you okay with this?” I need to know now if this is uncomfortable for her so that I don’t take it further.
“Yeah.” Her brows scrunch, forming some wrinkles over her forehead. “Are you okay with it?”
“I am if you are.”
“Is there a reason that I shouldn’t be?”
I take the food basket from her and work on securing it to my saddle. “No.”
Leighton goes to the horse that I’ve saddled for her. She looks even smaller standing next to the huge beast. “I’m probably going to need help getting on my horse unless you bring me a step stool. Short-leg syndrome.”
She puts her left boot in the stirrup, and I place my hands on her tiny waist. She bends at the knee to jump and she’s so light that it’s like lifting a child. “Up you go.”
My horse and I lead the way to the place that I consider the most beautiful spot on my ranch. It’s a short distance, so our ride isn’t a long one.
“This is beautiful, Judd.”
“It’s my favorite place in the world.”
I get off of my horse and go to Leighton. She plants her boot in the stirrup and slings her leg over the saddle, coming down to the ground with the assistance of my hands on her waist.
“I come out here to write songs when I want to get out of the house for some fresh air.”
“I can see why you would come here. This place is very inspirational.”
I fling the blanket outward and spread it on the grass. “This is where I wrote ’Everything I Need.’ Well, I pretty much wrote the whole album out here.”
“That album was a big hit for you, wasn’t it?”
That album was huge. It made me a very rich man. And it transformed my career into what it is today. “The album went multiplatinum the month that it released.” It’s approaching diamond status, but I doubt that Leighton knows what that means.
“That album means the world to me. And it was my proudest accomplishment . . . until Scarlett Leighton came along.”
“I see that you brought your guitar. Planning to write your next multiplatinum album while we have wine and cheese?”
“Perhaps. Or maybe I just want to hear you sing some more.”
Damn, I enjoyed singing with Leighton. I loved everything about the way our voices harmonized. Loved the way it felt to have her so near. Loved the way she looked at me while she was singing those lyrics about making love.
Fuck . . . I sound like a pussy.
“I’ve sung enough for today, but I’d love to hear what you’re working on.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
Leighton unpacks the food from the basket while I lie on my back and look at the sky and clouds above. The weather is perfect for a picnic. Slight overcast so it’s not too bright. Not too hot. Not too cool. “Beautiful day to do something like this.”
“It is. I’m glad your mama suggested it.”
Mom is crazy about Leighton. I’m sure that she’d love nothing more than to see me end up with her. I should probably expect a lot more suggestions like this one.
“I would have liked to have taken you somewhere, but I don’t get to do that kind of thing often. I learned a long time ago that it’s not worth the hassle.”
“The outing to get your mama’s birthday present was fine.”
“That old lady didn’t have a clue who I was. But that’s not the case with most people in this town.”
“I would have thought that your hometown wouldn’t be as bad since you grew up here.”
“It’s better, but still not worth the trouble of going out and tackling the crowd.” I continue looking at the sky. “I’m used to it, but I’d lose my shit if people harassed you.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but it’s true. Leighton is nice. It would kill me to see her harassed on my account.
“I’m tough, Judd. Probably more so than you think.”
“You’ll have to be because as much as I hate it, I won’t be able to keep the vultures away from you forever.” Maybe not today or tomorrow but they’ll get to Scarlett and Leighton at some point. They always find a way.
My eyes are shut, but I open them when a shadow covers my face. “This is delicious. Open up.”
I open and Leighton drops a bite-size piece of meat into my mouth. Tastes like bacon, but with a different texture. Pork belly, maybe? “Mmm . . . that is good. More.”
I open my mouth and hold out my tongue, waiting to see what she’ll choose to give me next.
Creamy and pungent with an acidic after-bite. “Blue cheese?”
“Yes. Here . . . you need a cracker to go with it.”
The cracker helps cut the pungent acidic aftertaste but not enough. It’s still terrible. “Ugh. Give me something else to get that terrible taste out of my mouth.”
“Not a fan, huh?”
“Hell no.”
“Me either.” She giggles. “I just wanted to see what kind of face you would make.”
“You’re evil, woman.” I open and she drops a smooth sphere into my mouth. Sweet and juicy. A grape. “Much better. Thank you.”
I like this side of Leighton. Lighthearted. Playful. Genuine. It’s not typical to see those qualities in the people around me. Everyone wants something from me.
Leighton is a rarity.
We eat and talk and laugh and eat some more. She’s poked enough food in my mouth to keep me full until breakfast tomorrow. But I let her because I like it.
“Is the wine good?”
“Excellent. Want to try it?” She holds out her glass, but that’s not the way that I want to taste the wine. I’m so fucking tempted to grab the back of her neck and pull her close so my mouth can devour hers.
I contemplate doing it, just going for it, when I hear the sound of an ATV in the distance.
Who the hell is on my land? It better not be paparazzi. I won’t get finished kicking ass.
I sit up and cock my head, listening to hear which direction the sound is coming from.
“What is it?”
“I hear someone. An ATV. It’s coming from the direction of the house.”
Her eyes widen. “Scarlett . . .”
“My mom would have called if anything was wrong.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when the ping sound alerts me to an incoming text.
Diane: Doug is here. He left on the side-by-side to look for you.
Doug is here? At my house? Unannounced? That’s just fucking great. He’s the last person on earth that I want to see right now. Especially in this moment when I’m enjoying this alone time with Leighton.
Judd: Okay. Thanks.
Diane: Everything going okay?
Judd: It was.
This is the first time Leighton has left the house without Scarlett. Being here with her, having one-on-one adult time, has been great. And it had so much potential for getting even better.
But not now. Doug is ruining our brief time away from our responsibilities at the house.
“Everything okay?”
No. Doug never shows up at my house unless he wants something. And it’s usually something that I don’t want to give him. “Mom says that it’s my manager. He’s looking for me.”
“Then I guess our little vacation is over.”
“I’m afraid so. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. It was fun while it lasted.” Leighton starts to pack the food basket while I fold the blanket. “Maybe we can try again soon.”
“I hope so.” I really do.
Judd: My mom texted that you’re looking for me. I’m on my way back to the house. I’ll meet you in the studio.
Doug: Okay. See you there.
Doug is an asshole, but he’s a beast when it comes to managing my career. He has played a huge part in my success. But we’re even: I have made him a very rich man.
I don’t invite Leighton to the studio to meet Doug. I’m not in the mood to hear any of the comments that he’d have about her.
I find him nosing through the sheet music of the songs that I’ve been working on. He holds up a sheet he has plucked from the piano. “Looks like Daddy has been hard at work.”
Doug was mad as hell when he learned about Scarlett. He said that I was going to be sorry as fuck that I didn’t find out about her in time to financially persuade Josie Burns into having an abortion. He said that my daughter was going to ruin my career.
And I believed him.
But then my feelings for that tiny little drowned-rat-looking kid began to change. I didn’t want her to die. I wanted her to be safe and healthy. I came to love and adore her.
But before I loved my daughter, she was already adored by Leighton. That woman showed me how to love my own flesh and blood. I’ll never be able to express my gratitude to her.
“I have new songs, thanks to my daughter. She’s been a source of inspiration for me in the studio.”
“Glad to hear that she’s been good for something.”
I have a lot of tolerance for Doug, but that ends when it comes to my child. He doesn’t need to push me where she is concerned. “Why did you come?”
“To let you know that you’re going back on the road.”
“I told you that I was taking off until July to be with my daughter.”
“Can’t. I’ve already rebooked the shows that you canceled. You leave next week.”
Next week?
What. The. Fuck?
“Scarlett has only been home for a month. I can’t leave her yet.”
“I’m confused, Judd. I thought you hired a nanny so that you could go on tour again.”
Doug doesn’t have a family. He doesn’t understand how a child changes you. “I hired Leighton to help me care for my daughter who was born three months early and has special needs, not raise her in my absence.”
“People understand one cancellation, but not two. The shows can’t be canceled again.”
He’s right about that much. But the shows wouldn’t need to be canceled a second time if he’d done what I’d told him to do.
“How long is the stretch?”
“Eight weeks.”
Eight fucking weeks? Two months without my daughter?
“You had no right to rebook without okaying it with me.”
He knows that I would have said no. And now he’s boxed me into a corner. We both know that I risk the wrath of my fans if I cancel on them again.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
“I’m looking out for your career, Judd. Fuck knows that you’ve not been looking out for it yourself since that kid got here.”
“I’ve not been looking out for my career?” I pick up the sheets of music I’ve written over the last four weeks and shake them. “Then what the fuck do you call all of this?”
“I hope that I get to call them your next number-one hits.”
“It’s my best work. And it’s because of her.” I’m not the same person I was before Scarlett came into my life.
No, that’s not the whole truth. I’m not the same person I was before Scarlett and Leighton came into my life.
It’s been months since I’ve had a drink of whiskey or a whore in my bed. Because I want to be a better man for both of them.
“I’m going to do this because I have no choice, but you’d better not ever pull any motherfucking bullshit like this with me again, or we’re done. I mean it, Doug. Done.”
He grins. “Got it.”
I’m walking him out when he sees Leighton and goes completely motionless.
She is sitting on a quilt in the living room floor with Scarlett doing her daily physical therapy exercises. “Good girl, Scarlett. You’re getting stronger every day.”
“Who the fuck do we have here?” he says.
I really wanted to avoid this introduction, but I can see that it’s going to happen regardless of what I want.
I walk into the living room, Doug trailing in behind me. “This is Leighton Mitchell. She’s Scarlett’s nanny. This is Doug Lytal, my manager.”
“Very nice to meet you.”
Leighton’s smile is sweet and genuine, but the grin I see on Doug’s face is covetous. I know the filthy thoughts going through his head about her. And it pisses me off to the nth degree.
“Trust me. The pleasure is all mine, Miss Mitchell.”
I’m cutting this introduction short before Doug can try fucking around with Leighton. “Sorry to interrupt Scarlett’s therapy exercises. We’ll get out of your hair.”
I walk toward the front door, hopefully ending any chance of Doug engaging Leighton further.
“What day do we pull out?”
“Thursday.” Doug uses his thumb to point over his shoulder in the direction of my living room. “What the hell, Judd?”
“What?” I ask, pretending to not know what he means.
“Your nanny.”
“My daughter’s nanny.”
“That’s not a normal nanny. That’s a hot-as-fuck nanny.”
“I didn’t hire her because she’s hot. I needed someone who was capable of caring for a child with Scarlett’s needs. She was her nurse in the intensive care nursery. She’s highly qualified.”
“You’re fucking her.”
“I’m not fucking her.” But I damn sure wouldn’t turn down the opportunity.
“The hot nanny is the reason that you don’t want to leave.”
“No, my daughter is the reason that I don’t want to leave.”
“If you’re not fucking the nanny, then you won’t mind if I go in there and ask her out on a date.”
No way in hell that’s happening. “I do mind. I need her, and I’m afraid that she’ll leave if you fuck her over like you do every other woman you come in contact with.”
“You’re such a damn liar. You don’t want me to have her because you’re fucking her.”
I’m ready to punch him between his beady eyes. “Stop talking about her like that. She’s not that kind of girl.”
“You like her.”
I do like her, but I’ll never admit that to Doug.
“I can tell by the look on your face that fucking her is on your mind. I bet your cock is raw from all of the jerking off you’ve been doing at night while you think about her being down the hall.”
I’m done with this conversation. “What time are we leaving on Thursday?”
“Seven a.m.”
I can’t believe this asshole is forcing me into this.
“I’ll be there.”