Small Town King: A Single Dad Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 3) Read online




  Copyright © 2021 by Fabiola Francisco

  Publication Date: November 10, 2021

  Small Town King

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and contains material protected under the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover design by Amy Queau, Q Designs

  Cover photo by Deposit Photo

  Editing by Rebecca Kettner, The Polished Author

  Contents

  Also by Fabiola Francisco

  Social Media

  Dedication

  Prologue

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Chapter 30

  31. Chapter 31

  32. Chapter 32

  33. Chapter 33

  34. Chapter 34

  35. Chapter 35

  36. Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Fabiola Francisco

  Standalones

  Perfect Mess

  Because of You

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  Perfectly Imperfect

  Red Lights, Black Hearts

  Twisted in You

  All My Truths & One Lie

  Carlisle Cellars Series

  Not So Charming

  Homecoming Queen

  Small Town King

  Love in Everton Series

  Write You a Love Song

  Roping Your Heart

  Pretend You’re Mine

  Make You Mine

  You Make It Easy

  Then I Met You

  My Way to You

  Rebel Desire Series

  Lovin’ on You

  Love You Through It

  All of You

  Memories of Us

  Promise You

  Rebel Desire Box Set

  Restoring Series

  Restoring Us

  Resisting You (Aiden and Stacy Novella)

  Sweet on You Series

  Sweet on Wilde

  Whiskey Nights

  Social Media

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Facebook Reader Group

  TikTok

  Twitter

  Goodreads

  Website

  BookBub

  Newsletter

  For those who at times resist change.

  Take a leap of faith.

  Prologue

  Brett

  Five Months Earlier

  I race out of the car before my dad’s put it in park, terrified by the view in front of me. What in the hell…

  “Where are my daughters?” I shake one of the firefighters. Fear grips me, clogging my throat. I grip his uniform, seething. “Tell me.”

  “Daddy!” I whip my head to the side and see Charlie sitting down and covered with a blanket. I run to her and drop to my knees.

  “Sweetie…” I hug her to me, a sob breaking through as I pat her hair, her face, her small body. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. So scary…” she whispers.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  Before she can answer, someone interrupts. “Mr. Carlisle…” I turn to see the chief standing behind me.

  “What’s going on?” I stand and look at him, not bothering to shake the dirt from my pants. “Where’s my other daughter?”

  “We’re still looking for her. She’s still inside.” Regret lines his face, but I don’t acknowledge it. Anger and alarm run through me as I run toward the burning building.

  “I’m going to look for her.” People grab my back, holding me from the one place where I need to be. I need to save her. I need to protect her. She’s only four.

  My body wracks with sobs as I bow my head, dropping to the ground. “Don’t die, baby girl. Please don’t die. Ella protect her,” I pray to my dead wife. How much loss can I carry in one lifetime?

  “Brett…” My dad’s voice is distant.

  I cover my face with my hands so I don’t see the horror in front of me. There’s no way she’ll make it out alive if she’s been in there this long.

  “Sweetie…” My mom places her hand on my back, and I shake my head. Her voice sounds as broken as I feel.

  “Stand up,” she says, patting my shoulder. I get to my feet, turn around, and hug her. I cry like a baby while she holds me.

  Commotion rings around us, and a small gasp sounds from my mom. “Brett…” she whispers with a hint of warning.

  I turn around and see firefighters carrying my daughter. She looks to be unconscious, and my heart stops. I gag, almost puking, but when I see her rushed to an ambulance, I move without a second thought and climb in, rushing them to take her and save her.

  “Come on, Chloe… Stay alive…” I whisper, holding her ashen hand, soot covering her. I try to be strong, but the string that’s holding my self-control is snapping, and I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her skin and praying to God that I’ll do whatever He wants if He saves my little girl.

  I don’t know what the paramedics are doing or saying. It’s all a blur behind my tear-soaked eyes, but I’m pretty sure I’m begging them to save her. Once at the hospital, they rush her inside. I follow in a daze, wondering what I’ll do if I lose her.

  I’m ushered to a waiting area while they take Chloe away from me, her tiny body unmoving, and do whatever the hell they need to do to keep her alive.

  “Brett…” My mom’s voice breaks through my incessant thoughts. She sits beside me, bringing her arm around me and cradling my body. “Shhh… They’re going to do everything in their power to save her.”

  My body shakes as time passes with no news coming from the doctors, and I start to think the wors
t. Although, if her body gave out and she died, they’d tell me right away. So maybe it’s true that no news is good news.

  “Mr. Carlisle.” I look up to find a doctor in a white coat wearing a grim expression.

  I jump to my feet. “Yes? Is she okay?” I plead with all my might.

  “You can see her now.” He ushers me toward a room, and I see Chloe lying on the bed with an oxygen mask, her small stomach slowly rising and falling.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I demand.

  The doctor shakes his head, exhaustion evident on his face, but there’s also a hint of confusion. “Honestly, it’s a miracle. I don’t know what else to tell you. It’s impossible in my medical mind that she has zero repercussions from this, but she’s clean. We’re keeping her in observation and giving her oxygen, but every test we ran came out okay. She needs rest.”

  I stare at him wide-eyed.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. All I can say is that God didn’t want her to go today,” he shrugs.

  I drop on the chair beside the bed, looking at Chloe. They’ve cleaned her up, for which I’m thankful. She looks peaceful. Closing my eyes and holding her hand, I thank God for letting me have more time with her.

  Tears roll down my face as chills cover my body. “Thank you, Ella,” my voice cracks.

  It’s all I can think. Chloe’s mom was protecting her from above, making sure I didn’t lose more of her by taking my little girl. Devastation and despair hit me at once, and I place my head on the edge of the bed, never letting go of Chloe’s hand, and cry for what seems like years of pent-up sadness.

  Chapter 1

  Brett

  I grab the framed black and white photograph and stare at my wife’s smiling face. My finger brushes along her cheek before curling into my fist. She looked stunning on our wedding day. Ella was the woman of my dreams. I lived and breathed for her. The day she stopped living, a big piece of me died alongside her. Shaking my head, I inhale my emotions, locking them back up.

  “I need you now more than ever,” I whisper at her picture. “Our daughters need you. I’m not sure how to help them overcome what they lived through and keep the winery afloat. Why aren’t you here?” My quiet words turn into accusing anger as I grip the hard metal, causing it to stab into my palm.

  She should be here. She should be by my side, helping our daughters and me. She always had the right words to say. When Chloe wouldn’t sleep through the night in a fit of cries, she’d rock her until she quieted down. Ella was our rock. With her gone, our lives have been unsteady. After my daughters were caught in a fire at the winery my family owns, our peace has been shaken beyond fix.

  Closing my eyes when I get no response from my wife’s ghost, I take a deep breath. Soft footsteps creak down the hallway, and I quickly drop the frame on the bedside table and scrub a hand down my face.

  “Daddy?” Charlie, my oldest, whispers.

  “Yes?” I turn around, taking in her frown. I feel helpless, as if I’m unfit to be a father to these girls that I love with my whole heart.

  Charlie tiptoes over to me, her plush bunny hanging from her fist squeezed around its ears. Her big eyes avoid mine as she looks at the bed.

  “Can I sleep here?” When those eyes meet mine, my heart cracks. The pain in them comes in waves, and right now, they’re a tsunami of emotions.

  Charlie is my oldest, usually sassy and way-too-smart for her age. But at only six years old, she experienced something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. That fire has caused too much distress in my daughters’ lives.

  “Of course, baby.” I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the space next to me. A small smile lifts the corners of her lips as she drags her body toward the bed and climbs on with her bunny on her lap.

  “What’s going on?” I wrap my arm around her small body as I wait for her to explain.

  “I had a nightmare.” That’s all she needs to say. The nightmares have been happening more often. Usually, it’s Chloe who has them since she was the one stuck in the fire longer. The thought of losing either of them would be more than I could bear.

  “It’s okay.” I brush her hair back, kissing the top of her head. “Get under the covers, and I’ll read you a story.”

  She nods eagerly, crawling up the bed as I help her in. I sit next to her on the edge of the bed and smile down at her. She’s so much like her mother. Chloe looks more like me, but Charlie is Ella’s spitting image—from her looks to her sassy personality. She’s always making us laugh, less so now when she’s hit with fear. Sometimes I still see glimpses of her joy and wit when her guard’s down, and I hold on to those moments.

  I open a book and begin reading a story about a little girl’s first day of school. Although Charlie’s in First Grade, and she’s no longer worried about starting school, she still loves this story. As her eyes begin to droop, I kiss her forehead and whisper goodnight, placing the book on the bedside table next to Ella’s picture. I run my finger down her smiling face one more time and turn toward the bathroom to get ready for bed.

  I groan as I begin to wake, feeling pressure against my stomach. Feeling around, I come in contact with a foot wedged into my ribs. I open my eyes to find Chloe sprawled out, taking over most of the bed. She must’ve come in here at some point during the night to join her sister.

  I scrub my eyes and shift slowly to not wake them. Watching my two girls, a sad smile takes over my face. Life has been crazy since before the fire. I think our lives have been turned upside down since my wife died, but when my dad announced he’d be retiring soon and I’d be taking over, I’ve been immersed in work. Now, having to rebuild half the winery has made it even harder for me to be home by a certain time. I know my daughters complain since my mom has told me enough times for me to be unable to ignore it.

  Charlie and Chloe’s soft sighs fill the room, and I take a moment to watch their peaceful faces sleep. Scrubbing a hand down my face, stubble scratches my palm. Most days, I feel like I’m failing at fatherhood. I’m working more than I’m with the girls. The winery rebuild is a mess between insurance issues that are taking longer to get sorted and the financial hit. I used to have a better handle on our lives, but lately, I feel rattled.

  Letting out a deep breath, I stand from bed and head into the bathroom, getting ready for the day. I’ll let the girls sleep a little longer.

  After dropping Charlie and Chloe off at school with a promise to pick them up instead of my mom—one I hope I can keep—I head to work in hopes that I’ll have good news.

  “Hey, there, big bro.” I look up from my phone as I’m walking toward the winery and find my little sister, Madison, smiling at me.

  “Hey, what are you doin’ here?” I pocket my phone. Madison is a country music singer who recently moved back home to work on her career locally.

  “I wanted to see how things were turning out.” She looks around the area, cataloging the destruction that still lingers in the part of the winery that burned down. “Dad told me y’all should start construction soon?” She looks up at me with a hopeful smile.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “God willing.” I can’t wait until we finally break ground and start fresh with the restaurant and tasting room.

  “I’m glad,” Madison says as she hooks her arm in mine and leads the way toward the staff lounge where I prepare coffee.

  “This place holds so many memories.” She looks around. “Remember when we were kids, and we’d hang out here on days off from school?” She leans her hip against the table where the coffee pot sits.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “All I ever dreamed about was being an adult so I could work here like Dad.” I take a sip of my black coffee.

  “And you accomplished that.” Madison smiles, grabbing a mug. “Thanks for the coffee,” she lifts a brow as she throws her sarcastic humor over her shoulder.

  “You’re welcome,” I clip.

  With her coffee prepared, she turns to look at me. “You’re ready to run this place.” She nods as if tha
t would convince me more. It’s true that I’ve spent all my adult life preparing for this. Maybe even before that.

  “How are you?” I meaningfully ask Madison. She recently overcame a traumatic experience, and as strong as I know she is, I still worry about her.

  “I’m good.” She smiles sadly before taking a sip of coffee.

  “How’s work?”

  “It’s good. The new label has been amazing so far, so I’m glad I decided to hear them out and then sign with them.”

  I wrap an arm around her in a side hug. “I’m happy it’s worked out. We were all worried.”

  She nods, swiping her long hair away from her face.

  “Enough sad talk. Things are great, I’m getting married, and I’m finally working for people I trust. How are my nieces? I was thinking I could pick them up from school today.” She raises her eyebrows in question.

  “They’re good. I promised them I’d pick them up instead of Mom,” I sigh.

  “Oh, then do that,” Madison nods. “I can see them tomorrow.”

  “They’d love that.”

  “Awesome. I’ve still got so much time to make up for from all I missed while living in Nashville.” She beams, and it’s good to see her happy.

  “Hey,” Miles, my brother and Madison’s twin, walks into the lounge. “What are you doin’ here?” He looks at Madison.

  “Thought I’d come by and see how things were going here,” she shrugs.

  I look between them. They look so much alike that if Miles put on a wig and shaved his scruff, it’d be hard to tell them apart. He used to hate when I told him that, arguing he didn’t look like a girl.

  “Have you walked over to the restaurant today?” I ask Miles. He manages the restaurant and tasting room. He’s in charge of everything related to hospitality at the winery. I know he’s carrying guilt about the fire, but it was an honest accident. It’s a miracle there weren’t any fatal injuries, which is what matters.