The mental image of her attempting to balance one of her two plastic-handled frying pans using a hearth fire flashed through his head, and right on the heels of it came the images of everything that could go wrong—burning her hand as the plastic handle melted, or Lily playing too close to the fire, or the whole damn cabin going up in flames…
“You are absolutely not going to do that, and if I catch you trying, I promise you won’t sit for a very long time. Is that one hundred percent understood?”
Every shred of defiance was gone from her face when she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, what?” was out of his mouth before he knew the words had leapt to the tip of his tongue.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, contrite.
His chest was tight. Something he didn’t realize until he caught himself rubbing it. Jesus. Those images were the kind ofnightmare fodder his pessimistic imagination did not need any help conjuring.
“From now until your house has all utilities up and running comfortably, you will stay with Pops and I. I want you safe and warm, and before you come back here again, you and I are going to have us a little fire safety class. Don’t you dare light a match before we do that. Agreed?”
Sniffling, she swiped at her nose with her sleeve. “I can’t light a fire anyway. I don’t have matches. Or a lighter.” She thought about it, her brow furrowing all over again. “Or a can opener.” She looked at him again. “If you have time, will you take me to the store again?”
“Are you going to stay with me until Monday, no arguments?”
She huffed a soft sigh. “Yes.”
“When your pants and panties are down around your knees and your bottom is hot and red, I expect you to speak to me with the proper respect.”
She shifted her feet. “Yes, Daddy. And yes, I promise I’ll be good, but only if you promise to take me to the store. A-and to let me do things for myself.”
“When you feel the need to do something, just tap me on the arm and we’ll go back into my bedroom to discuss it. I promise I will let you do as much as you need to, so long as it’s within reason and safe.”
“I can do things for myself,” she insisted in her most conversational, please-don’t-spank-me tone. “You may not like it, but I really can take care of Lily and myself.”
“And you’re welcome to, just so long as you bear in mind that I will absolutely bust your butt if I catch you doing something that could get either one of you hurt.” He softened his tone. “And yes, of course I will take you to the store. You have two choices, if you need to go now, you can borrow my car, but before I cango anywhere, I need to run feed out to the cattle and make sure they’re sheltering at the barn.”
She blinked, turning out of the corner in surprise. “You have cows? Why haven’t I seen them?”
He smiled. “Because they have their own fenced yards and because I don’t let them come into mine. I don’t like it when they leave their poop where I can step in it. Or smell it.”
He tapped her on the nose, winning an instant smile before she must have remembered she was standing there with her ass bared and her panties at half-mast around her ankles.
“Yes,” he said before she could ask. “You may get dressed. Anything else you need, grab it now. You’re not coming back over here until your utilities are on.”
Chapter 9
It was a strange feeling to be a guest in someone else’s home and yet have free-range to do whatever while she was there. Brock was gone, off to check his cattle. Leaving her, Lily, and his father to rattle around the house unsupervised.
Like she needed supervision, she wanted to scoff, and yet at the same time, she missed him. There was a nervous uncertainty that she couldn’t quite kick when he was there. When he wasn’t, it was twice as bad. She faltered at getting herself something to eat. Only when three o’clock rolled around and Pops mentioned he was peckish, only then could she make herself go into Brock’s kitchen, open the fridge, and try to see what she could make that wouldn’t be considered intrusive.
It took a lot of self-justification before she finally pulled out sandwich fixings. She made turkey-ham-and cheddar cheese sandwiches, and coupled it with a handful of chips that Pops hinted were in the cupboard and probably ought to be used before they went stale. Not wanting to be accused of doing what she shouldn’t, she took a picture of her and Pops’ plates, and sent it to the cell number Brock had given her in case ofemergencies. This wasn’t an emergency, by any means. But he’d also said she could text if she had a question, so she sent the picture and wrote,Is this okay? We’re a little hungry.
Within seconds, he replied with, “Don’t you think some veggies would go well with your sandwich and chips?”
She made a face, but only because he couldn’t see it. Poking her head out into the dining room, she found Pops sitting at the head of the table, quietly doing a crossword puzzle while he ate his sandwich. “Do you want veggies with your chips and sandwich?”
“Tell him thank you, but no thank you. Vegetables are gross.”
Vegetables are gross, she texted back.
There was a brief pause before he replied,Put some carrots or cucumbers on that plate, young lady.
She could practically hear the tone of voice he’d have used were he here. A shiver danced down her back, rippling across the surface of her tender bottom. In the safety of the kitchen, she rubbed at the memory of all those swats he’d sent her into the corner to recover from. Then she dug through the fridge until she found a dish with cucumber and onion slices, and a sack of baby carrots. She put some of both on her plate, then took a picture and sent it back to him.
There was no denying the flush of happiness that accompanied his next text.Good girl.
