Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Tanner
"Time to wake up, bud."
Simon spoke gently as his hand swiped at the hair falling on my forehead.
I smiled as I tilted my head to look at him better. My eyes didn't want to open much more than tiny slits, but I could see him well enough to know he was smiling at me.
He shook his head, then tapped my shoulder. "None of that cuteness. It's time for you to wake up. I told you I'd let you get a power nap, not sleep the day away."
I stretched my arms up and the blanket slid down my body, revealing the way my shirt had ridden up.
I would have normally reached down to cover myself quickly, but the heat in Simon's gaze made me pause. I liked that expression. I liked knowing that what he saw pleased him.
The only problem with enjoying it was my cock's response. I could feel the way it was rising to attention.
I jackknifed up to block it and almost headbutted Simon for it. He shifted out of the way in time and chuckled.
"You remind me of that game, Don't Wake Daddy," he said.
My cheeks had to have been the color of tomatoes because while I'm sure the game reference was innocent enough, it had the word "Daddy" in it. And hearing Simon say it was breathtaking.
I wanted to hear him call himself Daddy. Hell, I wanted to call him Daddy.
In general, I needed to avoid any thoughts of it because I was going to slip up if I wasn't careful.
"What do you want to do next?" Simon asked as he looked from me toward the window that was still closed. He stood and opened the blinds, letting the light of the day peek in.
As he stood there, I took in his handsome frame. He was so big and strong looking. I could have watched him all day do nothing—just looking out that window was enough.
"I don't know," I mumbled, embarrassed by my runaway thoughts.
He turned to me and smiled. "You don't have to know. Maybe today is about having fun."
I bit my lip. Fun, I thought. When was the last time I had fun that wasn't a market day? Scheduling those in was hard enough. But to take this big break like I was—yeah, it was a big deal.
Simon came back over to the bed and dropped to his knees. My eyes widened, not only because it was something I didn't expect, but also because of how close it brought him to me.
His hands took mine and he held them as his thumbs stroked across the tops. I melted under the sweet touch.
"Why don't you get dressed in something warm and then we can go walk around to see everyone? It will do you good to get some fresh air, and I'm sure the guys are curious about you and how you're doing."
With my words stuck in my throat, I nodded. It was easier that way. I wouldn't slip up and call him Daddy, nor would I beg him to take care of me.
But as fate would have it, I didn't have to ask for anything.
Simon pressed a kiss to the top of each hand and then stood so quickly I feared I'd dreamt the entire interaction.
After he went around the bed to the closet and opened it up, I could hear him shuffling hangers around as I sat still. If I moved, things could change. If this was a dream, I wanted to stay as long as possible.
A minute later, Simon stepped out holding up some jeans and a flannel button-down. "Why don't you put this on? I'll take what you've got and wash it. Then you can get ready without me hovering. Once you're dressed, we'll head downstairs and I'll walk you around a bit."
I dipped my head to the side. "You make me sound like a pet. 'You have to walk me around.'"
His jaw dropped, and he sputtered like he wanted to refute my words. His expression made me laugh—all loud and full-bodied. The shock he wore transformed before me. He smirked, and I was sucked in. The laugh cut off abruptly because I couldn't even breathe with how handsome he looked.
"You are trouble, aren't you?" he said.
I shook my head. "I have never been accused of being trouble."
He hummed but didn't go further. Instead, he walked toward the door and stood there for a minute, just staring at me.
I returned the look. If he was trying to communicate with me silently, I couldn't pick up what he was saying. But my own thoughts were rapid and insistent.
Please don't stop taking care of me. Please keep being amazing. Please be my Daddy.
It was only all my years as a practiced lawyer—keeping my cool in the courtroom—that had me refraining.
The little inside me revolted. That part of me that longed for a caretaker wanted to scream from the rooftops that this man was ours, that we should keep him and love him and do everything he says.
Simon must have sensed my inner turmoil because he dipped his head and then pulled the door closed behind him without another word.
What else was there to say? He had given me clothes and set forth a plan. Now I had to do what he said.
It was nice to not have to think—to merely move the way someone told me to.
My body worked on autopilot as I got up and got changed.
When the clothes he'd loaned me came off, I frowned at the pile on my bed.
While I understood they needed to be washed, I hated thinking that they would no longer be a mix of his scent and mine—that the single nicest thing anyone had done for me in years was going to be swept away.
After taking another long moment, I gathered them in my arms and opened the door.
I jolted when I saw Simon leaning across the hall, his hands in his pockets. The way he eyed me was possessive, if I had to pick one word for it. Was he happy to see me in casual clothes, or was it because he picked them out for me, both at the store and here on the ranch?
The thought made me shiver.
"I'm ready," I forced out.
He grunted, not saying a word as he straightened and held his hands out for the clothes. When I placed them in his hands, he stayed longer than necessary, as if he wanted to soak up my touch too.
Once he had them bundled up, he reached for my hand like he had earlier. Honestly, there was no option of not returning the hold. There wasn't a single chance of me missing out on doing what he wanted—on doing what I wanted.
We made our way downstairs and thankfully the house was empty aside from Harlan doing food prep in the kitchen. He paid us no mind as we moved through and put the clothes in wash with the others.
As we moved to the front door, I winced because the cold could already be felt through the screen that Simon opened. And while I had a coat and shoes that would withstand the weather, I didn't have a hat or scarf or gloves—all the things that were pretty much mandatory this time of year.
"What do we have here?" Simon said, interrupting my thoughts.
I looked over to see him squatting down by the shoe rack with a brown wrapped package in hand. He turned it toward me. "It has your name on it."
I moved before I could even truly think it over. I took it from him and opened it up quickly, a smile on my face as I wondered what could be inside.
My Secret Santa, if that was who had gifted me earlier, was going above and beyond. They were doing too much, really. I still didn't know who the person I needed to buy for was, and if it wasn't the person buying for me, well then things would be unbalanced.
The rational part of my brain said that wasn't fair, that it needed to be more even. The little in me rejoiced at someone wanting to pay this much attention to me.
Plus there was Simon to account for. He was great all on his own.
As the brown paper stripped away, I took in the bundle tied with string. One pull of the yarn gave way. I lifted the hat, gloves, and scarf, holding them as I spread the knitted fabric wide.
"This is amazing," I said, voice reverent. "I was thinking that I didn't have anything to protect me against the elements."
Simon hummed as he stood to his full height. "This fell," he said, handing over a card.
I flipped it open. Inside it said: *Bundle up. It's a bit chilly this time of year. You deserve all the warmth.*
I could have sworn I turned into a melted puddle. I felt like Frosty, and I was hopeful that someone could put me back together because I needed to find whoever this was and thank them.
I quickly wrapped the scarf around me and slid on the hat. I was about to slip the gloves on when Simon reached out. "Here, let me help," he said quickly, as if he wanted to jump in.
I didn't stop him. Instead, I held my fingers out and wiggled them while he took the gloves and eased them onto my hands. Once they were in place, I squeezed my fingers in and out to show that they were a perfect fit.
"Do you feel warm, bud?" he asked.
I smiled widely and bobbed my head. "I absolutely do. They're perfect. I wish I knew who gave it to me so I could thank them."
He grinned and shook his head. "I'm sure everyone who sees you smiling is going to know. The person who gave it to you will be happy that you're happy."
"Well, that sounds fair, I guess. Still, maybe I can do something for them and convince Sean to give it to them."
His brows rose. "That seems very kind of you. But again, why don't we go enjoy your newfound gifts?"
I waited as he bundled himself up, then we stepped out onto the porch. The sounds of work echoed around us along with the shrill wind whipping around. It was cold, and I definitely needed the items I was wrapped up in.
Simon took my hand as he led me down the stairs and across the snow-covered ground toward the stables.
"I want to check on Ginger first. She's a handful and a half, but I love her.
Bobby Allen is taking care of her, I'm sure.
It's a habit of mine," he said, as if it were embarrassing he cared so much about a horse that he wanted to go check on her himself.
I shook my head and squeezed his hand. "I'm glad that you check on her. She sounds like she might be a bit restless from time to time, and she deserves someone who loves her enough to worry."
"Oh yeah, I do worry," he said as we went through the open barn door.