Page 119 of Stay Wild Darlin’

I glanced at Poppy, who was staring at me, absentmindedly stroking Cora’s hair.

“But it hasn’t been only me for a while now,” I added. “It’s Poppy. She’s been the one showing up every day, for both of us.”

Poppy didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. The look in her eyes said enough.

The door to the hallway opened, and the presence behind it pulled me to my feet before I even had a chance to think about it.

“Dalton?” My father stepped into the room.

I stood straight, shoulders tense, every muscle in my body falling into the old rhythm of how I used to stand when he entered a room.

“Yes, sir,” I said automatically.

Old habits.

“I was telling Mom about Cora,” I said, motioning toward the baby in Poppy’s lap.

My dad moved around the couch and sat beside my mother, his expression unreadable. Always was. Years of control, of polished presentation, and never letting anyone see more than he intended. His eyes went to the baby.

“She’s my daughter.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just let his gaze settle on Cora, then he looked back at me with a dry lift of one brow.

“Well, that’s obvious. She’s got your whole damn face.”

“I’ve been doing everything I can to give her a good life. Working hard. I’m number one in the world now.”

He leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. “So I’ve seen.”

It could’ve ended there. It might’ve, if not for Poppy.

She shifted under Cora, gently adjusting the baby. Her eyes locked on my father’s, steady and full of something I didn’t even realize I needed in that moment—backing me up.

“He’s not only number one,” she said, chin raised. “He’s the best father I’ve ever seen. Cora is happy, healthy, and thriving because of him. You should be proud.”

The room fell quiet. My heart slammed behind my ribs.

“Who are you?” my father asked, his tone flat.

“The nanny.” My mother cut in smoothly.

My fists clenched at my sides, jaw tight. The way she said it was so dismissive and clipped.

“She’s not just the damn nanny,” I snapped, heat rising in my voice. “She’s my— she’s mine.”

There was a beat of silence.

“That’s very caveman of you, Dalton,” my mother replied dryly.

My father grunted beside her. “Is there a reason you’re here? What, you need money?”

“Money?” Poppy’s voice shot up before she could stop it. She almost stood, but Cora was still in her lap, and the movement turned into a protective hold around the baby instead.

“Money?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “Did you not hear what I said? He’s number one in the world. Bull riding. Do you have any idea what that means? He’s got sponsors. A child he’s raising on his own. He doesn’t need your money.”

She didn’t raise her voice, but every word was a strike.

My mother blinked, then tilted her head slightly. “Do you know who we are, dear?” She didn’t even wait for an answer before continuing. “We’re the Culpepper family. We own the largest farming equipment company in the country. Possibly the world. So forgive me if I find this little . . . outburst, slightly beneath the room.”