Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 47381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
“Hmm, I’m going to try and fill in some blanks here. Yes, I’m at the Ranch. With Jolie. I’m taking care of her, remember? I found out she was here and followed her because she ran from me. Don’t worry, not a stalker. I had to basically convince the guy who runs the place of that before he’d let me stay. Then I had to convince Jolie that I do want her, that I’m capable of taking care of her. Don’t think she believes me yet. Stubborn brat. I answered her phone so it wouldn’t wake her. She needs her rest. What else?”
“Are you a Daddy Dom?” she blurted out.
He narrowed his gaze. He’d already shared way more than he had intended to. But this woman was Jolie’s best friend.
“If you tell anyone any of this, I will ruin your life,” he promised in a dark voice.
“Whoa. You went from zero to a hundred at light speed,” she muttered. “And I would never do anything to hurt Jolie.”
“Well, good,” he replied. “Then all you need to know is that I’m taking care of her, and I’m going to ensure she gets whatever she needs.” He ended the call, then looked for somewhere to put her phone. Ahh, above the fridge. Perfect.
Yeah, she’d probably be annoyed if she found out. But she needed a break from everything.
He was wondering if that was part of the reason she was here.
Looking at the camera, he noticed her stirring.
Perfect.
Time for her bottle.
Damn. He had this Daddy stuff down.
CHAPTER 11
“Brand, you can’t just feed me a bottle.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because I mean we haven’t even discussed how this would work.”
“I figured you could rest back against my chest, and I’d hold the nipple to your mouth. Or you can sit on my lap and rest back against my arm. Maybe that would be better.”
“Not that.” She rubbed at her head as she tried to explain what she meant.
“Do you have a headache?”
“Um, no. Not really. I just, I’m having trouble working out how to explain this. It’s just a lot is happening and maybe we need to go slower.”
There. That was a reasonable request, right? He couldn’t get upset over her wanting some time to get her head wrapped around the change in their relationship.
But when her gaze was drawn up to his, she felt a stab in her gut at the look of vulnerability on his face.
What have I done?
Brand never looked like this. He was arrogance and confidence personified.
He didn’t do uncertain.
And she didn’t like him looking that way.
She definitely didn’t like that she’d caused it.
“Is it because you can’t see me as a Daddy Dom?” he asked. “As your Daddy Dom?”
“What? Brand, no.” Ahh shit. It was so hard to carry on a freaking conversation when she had to stop to cough so often.
Picking up the glass instead of the baby bottle filled with water that he’d appeared with, he handed it to her.
He wasn’t… he wasn’t going to help her with it.
Tears flowed down her face, and she sobbed, then coughed. Oh, she was a freaking mess.
“Hey, calm down.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. The glass slipped from her hand, spilling water everywhere.
Crap. Just crap.
Why couldn’t she do anything right?
“It’s all right. Baby, I have you. I have you.” To her shock, he gathered her up into his arms, holding her cradled against his chest with one arm under her ass.
With his free hand, he patted her back while bouncing up and down.
The shock of him bouncing her around like she was a baby actually helped break through the coughing fit. She managed to take one breath, then another.
“That’s it. That’s my good girl. Just calm down. You’re all right. You’re safe.”
He was taking care of her… just like a Daddy might with his Little girl.
And it felt so good.
So right.
She buried her face in his chest as her coughing fit died off, feeling her cheeks flame. She knew she had to look like a fright. And she didn’t feel ready to face him.
Right now, she just wanted to be held and coddled.
Like she was precious and special.
“Bumblebee?”
“No.”
“No?” he queried.
“I don’t wanna.”
“You don’t want to what?” he asked.
“Face reality.”
“What part of reality?”
“The part where I realize that I just started crying in front of you, then wiped my wet, snotty face on your shirt.”
“My shirt will wash.”
“Or that I hurt you,” she whispered.
He stilled. “I never said you hurt me.”
“You-you looked… shit!” She was croaky. Her throat hurt. Her head was spinning, and she felt like she could sleep for a hundred years when she’d only just woken up. “It’s not me, it’s you.”
He let out a choked noise that sort of sounded like a laugh, sitting on an armchair with her on his lap.
“Look at me, Bumblebee.”
“I really don’t want to.”