An ex-con with a secret can’t resist his former cellmate’s daughter.

I never claimed to be a saint. But it wasn’t until I found myself in cuffs that I learned the damage I was capable of. The only sunshine on those gray prison days came in the form of letters from a hopeful teenager with a quick wit.

But the letters weren’t addressed to me. They were meant for my bastard cellmate, who’d sooner toss them on the floor with the rest of his trash.

So, I picked them up, read them, and wrote back, signing each letter, Love, Dad.

For four years, I kept up the lie, telling myself this girl deserved better than a deadbeat who won’t even open her letters. But the truth is, she deserves better than both of us.

My first task as a free man is to walk into the salon where she works and admit that I’m a liar. But the pink-haired, tattooed bombshell who greets me is a far cry from the awkward teen I envisioned.

Gone are the braces, the pigtails, and picture-day smiles. Tatum Fitzroy is a grown woman with a body like a winding backroad and a dirty-girl lip bite that makes me wonder if coming clean is really worth the destruction.