All characters are over the age of 18.
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Gordon and Grace
Gordon tapped his thumb impatiently on the wheel of his truck as he watched his recently turned 18-year-old daughter flirt with some dumb jock that she went to school with. Grace, the youngest of his children, had grown up under his strict rule of 'no boys'. Gordon knew what boys and men were like; he was one of them. He knew how just the smell of a pretty girl could turn them into monsters. Gordon knew because his own mind was just as fucked up.
In the last two months since Grace had turned 18, Gordon had noticed a change in his daughter's attitude and style. She was more loving and attentive; she helped more on the farm; Grace even seemed to be improving her grades. It had surprised him at first; Gordon had thought that perhaps she was finally growing up.
But seeing the way she flipped her hair over her shoulder and battered her eyes at the dumb jock in front of her, Gordon understood exactly what she was doing. Grace wanted to date someone. She was buttering him up, waiting for the moment to ask. But what Grace didn't understand is that no male would ever be good enough. If he could, Gordon would never let go of his daughter.
Grace let out a loud giggle at a comment made by the jock. The sound making Gordon clench his fingers around the wheel; he smacked his car horn twice in quick succession. Grace's smile faded when she glanced up and locked eyes with Gordon. She glanced back at the jock, said something before walking towards Gordon's truck. She held her books against her chest and bowed her head slightly as she approached.
Gordon clicked his tongue as Grace climbed into his truck. Once she had closed the door and put on her seatbelt, he turned to her.
"How was school?" he asked.
Grace nodded. "It was good. I got a B on my history report."
Gordon smiled. "That's great." He started the truck and pulled away from the school curb. As they drove away from the school, Gordon glanced between Grace and the road.
It was less than a minute before Grace cracked.
"Daddy, I really like him."
Gordon's fingers tightened on the wheel.
"And he isn't a bad boy, he has good grades, he plays football, he goes to church every Sunday."
Gordon scoffed. "A boy can go to church and still be a bad egg."
"Daddy..." It came out as a whine from Grace's lips.
"No. I don't want you going out with any boy until after you finish school." Gordon stopped at a set of lights and turned to look at her.
Grace's eyes glistened with tears.
"Don't cry, baby girl." He reached over and took his chin in her fingers. "No boy is worth those tears."
Grace sniffed. "The boys were allowed to date."
"That's because I know how a boys mind works. I could anticipate what they were going to do. I can't do that with you."
"What exactly do you think I'm going to do?" she asked.
"It's not you, I'm worried about. I don't want no boy pressuring you into sex and leaving you knocked up. I don't want that life for you." Gordon caught a tear that fell down Grace's cheek. "You deserve to be treated well."
"Daddy, please."
Gordon frowned. "I said, no." He pulled his hand away and turned back to the road.
He knew that was being harsh, and there was truth behind his words. Gordon wanted a good life for his daughter, but it was more for his own selfish reasons. It had been ten years since Grace's mother died, leaving him to parent Grace through puberty all on his own. The whole period fiasco was only survived thanks to Mrs Franks, their neighbour who would babysit Grace when she was young.
But Grace had matured and become the woman of the house. Mrs Franks taught Grace how to cook, meaning every night she would make dinner. Grace cleaned the house and did the washing too. She ended up taking her mother's role. Gordon relied on his daughter more than he would admit to anyone, and there were days when he would forget for a moment that Grace was his daughter and see his wife standing at the stove or hanging the washing on the line. Grace had her mother's blonde hair and green eyes; the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed was the same too.
As a young woman, Gordon looked at Grace and didn't ever want to let her go. It was possessive and harsh, but Gordon wasn't going to let Grace go without a fight.
The ride home was silent. By the time they drove down the long driveway that led to the main house, Grace's tears had stopped, and she was staring out the window. Gordon parked the truck by the side of the house and wasn't surprised when Grace climbed out, slammed the door and stormed inside. He let out a heavy sigh before heading out to the barn; he had work to do.
Later that afternoon, once Gordon had finished working his last horse, he headed back to the house. As he stepped inside, he enjoyed the refreshing air-conditioned air after being out in the hot sun. Gordon took off his hat and hung it up on the coat rack by the door before walking into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge before sitting down on his chair in the living room. He flicked on the afternoon news and kicked off his boots.
Upstairs he could hear Grace moving around. Her feet tapping on the wooden floors. He heard her door open, and her bare feet hit the stairs. As she reached the bottom step, the house phone rang. Without being asked, Grace walked over and grabbed the phone.
"Longmire residence," she said.
Gordon took a sip of his beer and waited for her to give him the phone.
"Hey, Andrew--yeah, he's here--of course, he said no--I'm not a child."
Gordon held in his laugh. Andrew, the eldest child, had always been very protective of Grace. She was fifteen years his junior, and he always liked to coddle her.
"You are as bad as Dad--yeah, one sec--love you too." Grace walked over and stopped by Gordon's side. She held out the phone. "Andrew wants to talk to you."
Gordon took the phone. "Thanks, baby girl."
Holding the phone to his ear, Gordon noticed as Grace walked away from him that she had changed. In place of the jeans and shirt, she had worn to school was a pair of tight shorts and a tank top. Never before had he noticed how well rounded her ass was and how each cheek would probably perfectly fit in the palm of his hand.
"Old man, you there?"
The sound of Andrew's voice made Gordon realise he was staring after his daughter. He cleared his throat, "Watch it, boy."
Andrew laughed. "Gracey been giving you grief?"
"She wants to date some jock at school."
"Why not just let her? She is an adult now."
"Not while she's under my roof."
"Dad, you can't protect her forever. Neither of us can. She will need to learn eventually."
