She turned on the light at the end of the hall. “Not really. Not here, anyway. But it only takes once or twice to make you want to be extra careful.”
His jaw clenched. Once or twice? That was once or twice too many in his opinion. Getting her moved out to the ranch just became his top priority.
After changing, she headed toward the door. “Ready to go?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Where are your coat and gloves?”
Kip rolled her eyes. “I don’t need all that to walk to your truck.”
He’d insisted on buying her snow boots, a heavy coat, and gloves the first time he’d seen her walking to her car after her shift in the cold. She’d tried to talk him out of it, but that was easier said than done.
He’d nixed the conversation by asking, “Do we need to have the rest of this conversation over my knee?”
The butterflies bouncing off the walls of her stomach insisted on self-preservation. Or at least, butt preservation. She didn’t think he’d really do it. But in Wilder… let’s just say she wasn’t willing to risk being wrong.
Turning on her heel, she marched back to her room and grabbed her coat, gloves, and boots.
She would never losethe awe of driving to the Wild River Ranch. Squinting her eyes did little to shield them from the brilliance of the sunlight bouncing off the pristine snow-covered pastures. The majestic mountain framing the horizon added to the glare in the most beautiful way ever. Icicles lined the porte-cochère, dribbling icy drops onto the truck as Trace eased to a stop in front of the lodge. Kip hopped out of the truck as soon as Trace pulled to a stop, skidding in the slush in her still-too-new boots, her cheeks flushed from the drive and the secret thrill of beinghere.
For a minute, she seemed destined to fall. She never could figure out how Trace got to her so fast, scooping her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She squealed when he spun her to his side and settled her on his hip. “You aren’t going to have much fun if you break your leg on the way into the house, little fox.From now on, you wait for Daddy to open your door and help you out.”
Heat flared from his touch, across her hips and settling between her legs. A distraction was needed. “You’re not my Daddy.”
He smiled and winked. “I’m always Daddy on the ranch, little fox. At least, I’d like to be. Wouldn’t you like to have a Daddy while you’re here? You seemed to enjoy it before.”
Truth be told, she’d loved every second of it. The Little inside her was finally getting the attention she’d always wanted. The Daddy she’d always longed for. Why shouldn’t she take what he was offering her? It could be her last opportunity.
But she didn’t want to hurt him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t told him more than once she was leaving soon. She couldn’t make him believe her. He’d find out soon enough she was serious. Before that happened, would it make her a terrible person to take what he was offering? Or was it worse not to take it? It was so confusing.
Wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, she buried her face in his shoulder. “Yes, Daddy. I’d like that.”
He patted her bottom. “That’s my Foxy. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Don’t forget I’m l?—"
Before she could warn him, she was leaving soon, again, the double doors banged open, and three small whirlwinds blew onto the porch.
“Uncle Trace! Kip!” Joy led the charge, Tildi right behind, and Kenzie bringing up the rear. All three wore matching denim overalls and rainbow knee socks, Little space glowing like fireflies in their eyes.
“You’re here just in time!” Tildi hopped up and down, pink pigtails bouncing against her shoulders. “We were about to build our first North Pole blanket bunker of the season. Someone has to be on patrol to watch for Santa, and we’re short one.”
“Yeah,” Kenzie agreed. “A bunker is supposed to have four sides, so we need you. Come on!”
Trace shook his head, but a smile warmed his face. “You girls go ahead. Foxy, I’ll grab your suitcase.”
“Thank you, um… Daddy.” She couldn’t hold in her nervous giggle. What would her friends think? Deciding the best move was to dive all in, Kip gave Kenzie a sharp salute. “Reporting for duty, soldiers.”
Tildi shoved a sketchpad decorated with watercolor paint stains and colored pencil markings at her. “We need a mission, Captain Kip!”
Joy bounced on her toes. “Something withfortsandmonstersandabsolutely no vegetables.”
“And flashlights!” Kenzie pointed a stuffed giraffe like a rifle. “We’ll gather the supplies. You design the bunker.”
Kip’s eyes sparkled. “Secret Mission Fort. Under the kitchen table. Top secret. No Bigs allowed—except maybe General Trace, because he’sourBig.”
Trace’s deep chuckle rumbled as he lifted the tailgate. “Copy that, soldier.”
Inside, the lodge smelled of roasting brisket and Christmas trees from the hearth. When was the last time she’d had a Christmas tree? Too long, that was for sure.
