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Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)

Author:Elsie Silver

Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)

Elsie Silver

A Small Town Single Dad Romance

Elsie Silver

Copyright ? 2022 by Elsie Silver All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictional.

Cover Design by Wildheart Graphics Cover Photo by Kendall Taylor at Roaming Wild Photography Editing by Lilypad Lit Proofreading by Little Tweaks

For the incredible women who’ve been my biggest supporters. And for all the women out there who build other women up rather than tearing them down.

We’re better together.

Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.

Marilyn Monroe

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

37. Epilogue

Powerless Sneak Peek

Don’t miss Flawless

Books by Elsie Silver

Acknowledgments

The Elsie Silver Saloon

About the Author

1

Cade

Lucy Reid’s eyes flutter my way. The look in them is just a little too appreciative for my taste.

“Well, I love to do arts and crafts. I do a lot of scrapbooking in my spare time. Knitting. I bet Luke would love to do some knitting. Don’t you think, Cade?”

I almost laugh at the way she purrs my name. Also, I’d love to see someone get Luke to sit still long enough to handle two pointy sticks and create something.

She smiles over at Summer now, my little brother’s fiancée, before adding, “You know how it is. We all need some sort of feminine hobbies, don’t we?”

I hear my dad, Harvey, chuckle from where he’s seated in the room’s corner. Hiring a nanny has turned into a full-on family affair.

And a full-on nightmare.

Summer’s lips roll together, and she offers a small, fake smile. “Yes, of course.” I almost snort. Summer’s idea of feminine entertainment is squatting heavy plates at the gym and torturing grown men in the name of “personal training.” She’s lying through her fucking teeth, but it’s possible she’s still new enough in town that Lucy doesn’t know.

Or maybe Lucy is being a snarky bitch to my future sister.

“Alright.” I stand. “Well, thanks. We’ll get back to you.”

Lucy seems a little taken aback by how swiftly I’ve changed the conversation, but I’ve heard and seen all I need to.

And bedside manner isn’t my strong suit. I’m more of a rip-the-band-aid off type.

I spin on my heel, drop my chin, and walk out before it’s too obvious that I saw her outstretched hand and just didn’t care to shake it. Practically stomping to the kitchen, I prop my hands against the butcher block counter that butts up against the window and let my eyes trace out over the open range. Across the peaks of the Rockies that jut up toward the heavens.

This view, wild and craggy, is bursting with color in the early summer—grass a little too green, sky a little too blue, and sun bright enough to wash everything out a bit and make you squint.

After tossing some coffee beans into the grinder to make a fresh pot, I press down on the top to fill the house with the sound and try not to think about what I’m going to do with my kid for the next couple of months. It just leads to beating myself up. Feeling like I should do more for him. Be more present for him.

Basically, it’s not productive.

The sound has the added benefit of drowning out the pleasantries that my dad and Summer are exchanging with Lucy at the front door.

Not my house, not my responsibility. We’re doing the nanny interviews at the main farmhouse, where my dad lives, because I don’t like letting random people into my home. Especially not ones who look at me like this is their ticket into completing some weird little premade happy family fantasy with me.

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