Step-Farmer (Wanting What’s Wrong #5) Read Online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Novella, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
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“We’re coming back.” He says and Marcy answers with silence on the other end of the phone. “Make sure your boyfriend is there with you when we come. I want to talk to him.”

Eli ends the call, squeezes the phone in his fist and turns my way. “Ready?”

“Now hold on one second, Eli Heartson.” The sheriff turns our way. “I never said you could go.”

“You know full well they wouldn’t cause this mess and we don’t want to press charges anyway,” Rebecca says, putting her hands on her hips. “Let them go, Andrew. Then sit down and let us get you a coffee. Black, no sugar?”

He clicks his teeth, then nods to Eli, but I don’t think the sheriff’s words were going to stop him anyway. By the time he’s decided to let us go, Uncle Eli has already taken me by the arm, leading me to the exit.

CHAPTER 4

Ruby

“You’re not mad?” I ask as Eli swings open the door to my truck and lifts me into the seat, buckling the seat belt and clenching his teeth.

As we walked to where I parked, he gave me the glare and I spilled all the details about Marcy and David. The baby. The fights, the breaks ups, the make ups, everything. He listened in silence but I know he committed every word to memory.

My skin gets all tingly as his chest touches mine, his cheek next to my lips, and I want to grab him and tell him how he makes me feel. How I call to him at night and touch myself, wishing Daddy would sneak into my room and make the achy feeling go away.

“No. Not mad,” he says, pressing his lips together, the lines in his forehead returning. “Never mad at you. I’m sad.”

“Sad? Why?”

“Because you didn’t tell me. Sad you didn’t feel safe telling me all the things in your life. I’ve done something wrong if you felt you couldn’t do that. I will do better, I promise.” He cracks his neck, then pins me with his eyes. “And you will do better as well. You tell me all the things, not just what you think I should know. All of your life you will tell me. That is a rule.”

“I’m eighteen and you are adding rules to the list?”

I think of the worn piece of notebook paper with my eight year old writing on it that still hangs taped to the refrigerator. Soon after I arrived on the farm, Eli sat me down, told me the rules and had me write them out.

“I’ll add rules until you are old and gray, little girl.” He only calls me that when he’s being stern and it always ignites a fury down in my core. “If they help me understand you, protect you and care for you, yes, I’ll fucking add rules.” That low rumble coming from his chest lets me know I need to tread lightly. “But I am sorry I cursed at you.” He glances at the front of my blouse then back to my face. “You follow me.”

My stomach flutters as he jogs toward his Ford F250, and I force myself to turn the ignition and put the stick-shift in gear. The boys and their cars from earlier are gone, but I shiver, feeling there’s some other challenge on the horizon.

As we drive, and the silence stretches inside my cab, I think of what he said.

…until you are old and gray, little girl.

Does he see us together until we are old?

Sure, we work together and live together and there’s rarely any conflict between us. We’re quietly happy together outside of being poor and my occasional meltdowns. But, what about college? I haven’t told him about my scholarships and we never really talk about the future which never seemed odd until now that I think about it.

Maybe I’m just free labor.

No, that can’t be it. Eli does ninety-percent of the work on the farm and around the house. He’s a force of nature with his cooking, plowing, sewing and tending to everything.

But, I mean, we need to discuss what’s next for us.

By which I mean, me. Right?

As the dark road comes back upon the bonfire, that unsettled feeling that the future is sort of a blank slate that needs some sort of outline niggles in the back of my mind.

But, for now, we need to deal with Marcy.

The fire is still ten feet tall when we get out of our trucks, the music is louder, the crowd is drunker and there’s Marcy. Chatting with a few of the other girls from our class, looking none too frazzled.

Total change from how she sounded on the phone.

She waves at me, then stalls when she catches on that Eli is a few steps behind.

Then, there’s David. Standing off to the side with a few of his crew from the diner. But Eli is completely nonplussed as they all stare his way.


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