Chapter 18 - Kate #2
Another throaty chuckle threatens to ruin me. “Shut the fuck up and feed my canine buddy like a good girl. Was that enough of a dominant growl for you?”
“Yes, sir,” I purr back. “It wet my panties.”
He shakes his head like I exhaust him. It’s fun to push him to his limits.
I grab the dog’s bowl and scoop the food into it with a knife. “Look, Joshie. Grumpy Daddy cooked you chicken. Mmm.” I add the last part in to tempt the fussy little guy and drop his bowl on the feeding mat by the door.
Josh stares up at me, demanding I follow procedure.
I fall to my knees and scratch his back. “Good boy. Eat it all up.”
His head dives into the food and gobbles it up. Yep. My dog has a praise kink. I contemplate making Grumpy Daddy do this and capturing it on camera for giggles. If he lets me film him. Hashtag goals.
I pause mid-scratch. Josh has a new collar. Pale blue, sparkly, and bedazzled with rhinestones that spell Menace in glinting silver. A tiny skull charm dangles at his throat like a war medal. Dramatic. Shining. Totally my brand. Damn adorable.
I look up at Grumpy Daddy’s back and hold back a squeal. “Did you accessorize my dog?”
He removes a baking dish of scalloped potatoes from the oven and sets it on a wooden board to cool. “He needed a tactical upgrade with glitter grenades.”
“Tactical?” I tease. “It’s giving BookTok Influencer Dog Who Does Hit Jobs on the Side vibes.”
“I stand by my choices.” Daddy is the perfect book boyfriend.
My heart wrenches with reluctance to give him up at the end of this.
I move that thought along and praise Josh until he finishes and trots away to gnaw at his chew toys and growl.
I return to my stalker and pat him on the arm. “This is sweet, you know? The food, care, and seeing you wear my apron short-circuits my brain.”
“Sit and eat, Glitter Bomb, before I make dessert out of you.” He punctuates his words with a clap on my ass.
“Yes, Grumpy Daddy.” I grin, relishing the burn on my cheeks as I float to the table with my drink.
My grumpy stalker plates my food, and my stomach groans since I haven’t eaten since morning. I try not to drool at the potatoes dripping in garlic, cream, and cheese, steamed asparagus, and chicken parmigiana.
One plate. No setting for him. Bitterness clenches in my gut. I’m still on the outside after opening up to him. Untrustworthy, according to the man underneath. I hate how much that matters.
I slice up my chicken and say nonchalantly, “Aren’t you eating with me?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. Mystery maintenance.”
Rational me reasons that he can’t wear a mask unless he’s learned the cost of taking it off. So what cost is he frightened of with me?
Book Girlie me shouts at me to take it off. That we don’t care if he doesn’t give us his name. He’s the most real thing I’ve touched in years.
I play down my disappointment with another joke and press my fingertips to my temples.
“What's wrong?” He rubs my knee under the table.
“Nothing.” I fake pain.
“Have you got a headache?”
“Shh.” I crush my eyes closed and pretend to concentrate. “You're interfering with my Jedi mind trick!
“Nice try, Glitter Bomb.” He falls back into place beside me. “You’ve been a bad girl, and the helmet’s staying on.”
“Worth a try since my charm isn’t working,” I mutter.
Josh jumps up on my leg and sniffs, ruining the moment.
“No, boy.” I push him away and try to keep my voice level. “You’ve had dinner. Don’t be a pig.”
He tilts his head and gives me puppy eyes.
“Go!” Grumpy barks, and Josh scampers off to his doggy bed and gives him serious stink eye.
Awkward silence descends on us as I wait for the piping hot food to cool.
I break it with a question, one part research, the other digging tunnels under his defenses. “So… what intel have you gathered on me, Robin Hood? Am I a princess, brat, or book slut?”
“You’re a glitter bomb.” The amusement’s back. “Which means you’re all three. Plus a menace.”
I smile at the nickname. It’s starting to mean something. Maybe too much.
He takes my fork and stabs at my meat and feeds it to me. I love it when he takes care of me. “This is a family tradition, passed down from my Granny. The trick is nutmeg and garlic in the cream.”
“I’m having a mouth orgasm,” I tell him after I finish.
“There’s more where that came from.” He lifts another forkful.
“Don’t tease me, Daddy.” I grin and wrap my mouth over the food.
He laughs and then switches gears on me. “Categorize me.”
Ohh. Grumpy Daddy always surprises me.
I take him in with a slow pan of his body, and then I count them off on my fingers. “Stalker, touch her and die, and morally gray. Recent actions have you leaning towards a moral stalker, so I might have to demote you to morally orange.”
“I prefer morally orange.” His thumb brushes my thigh in slow, delicious circles. “It’s between red and a green flag. Just dangerous enough to keep it interesting for you Book Girlies.”
Did I mention that he’s paying attention and absorbing all he can about the book world? Bonus stalker points!
He feeds me another bite. Our fingers brush, and he doesn’t pull back, his thumb lingering on mine.
I swallow my food and grin. “Orange is becoming my favorite color.”
“You really want orange?” he asks, voice low.
“Yeah. Sparkly like the sunset.” The most beautiful time of day.
“Sunset?” he huffs. “What about amber?”
“Nope. Sunset. That’s when the light surrenders to the dark. It’s when you save me from nefarious people, visit my roof, burst through my window, and watch over me while I sleep. And now I’m adding cook for me!”
He groans. “You’re going to cost me my balls.”
“Oh, come on.” I shove at his arm. “That was romantic.”
“Exactly.” His visor tilts in my direction, and I’m left wondering what face he’s making.
“So grumpy, and I’m here for it.” I let him feed me the rest of my dinner.
“Keep next Saturday free, Glitter Bomb.” He switches gears again, and I’m getting a bit of whiplash. “We’re going for a ride. Pack light and bring something warm.”
He has one foot out the door and somehow still manages to make me feel like I belong. The contradiction is enough to make me dizzy. So, I do what I always do. Lean into boldness and flirt like I’m terrified he’ll disappear.
“A hoodie or a knife?” I give a nod to my favorite scene in Lights Out.
“Both,” he says. “You never know with me.”
“Why?” I ask. “Are we getting out of town for security reasons, or a good old-fashioned Lakehouse ravaging?”
“Business and some pleasure.” My toes curl at his husky reply.
“Define pleasure,” I purr again.
“No hints.” I imagine his stubborn mouth under the helmet.
I wrap my fingers around his bicep. “I need to feel safe, Grumpy Daddy.”
He gives in. “One clue—lake.”
That’s all I need. “Throw in the Lakehouse ravaging and you’ve got a deal. Put our time together to good use.” I wink.
His head shakes again. “I’ll throw you on my bike and spank you for being a brat.”
My smile explodes like he’s thrown party streamers. “Yes, Daddy.”
His fingers skim my jaw, gentle as a threat. “You sure you’re ready for what this means, Glitter Bomb?”
I lick my lips to test him. “Depends. Are you bringing the rope and handcuffs?”
He doesn’t answer, just drags my chair closer so that my knees are between his, lifts my hands and presses them over my eyes.
A soft rustle tips me off that he withdraws from his helmet.
His kiss lands like a pirate searching for a long-lost treasure.
Hell, I don’t need a reply, because it’s game on.