Chapter 22
Rather than look at Nando Ortega—the ranch hand in charge of kid activities— Becca stared at the brochure in her hands. If she looked at Nando too long, she”d start to laugh, which was no way for the boss to act.
She thought he was an okay guy with a demonstrated knack for keeping Junior Justice occupied and out of everyone else”s hair. He managed the Villa”s growing menagerie of animals and so far hadn”t fucked up.
He also had questionable taste in hairstyles.
”I know it sounds insane, but the donkeys love a good bean bag chair. Mrs. Dane sewed up some really awesome washable covers, and according to the brochure, in addition to the soft items, they also need toys—rubbery things like inner tubes and balls, even traffic cones.”
”Playground equipment for the donks,”she murmured while studying the brochure”s pictures. ”I like these colorful halters, too—we should order a bunch.”
Nando waved another brochure and got her okay to order whatever he needed. It was the least she could do considering the snark having a field day in her thoughts over the crazy hairstyle situation happening on his head.
She found his appearance bewildering. Had he looked in the mirror?
Her phone dinged. Looking down, she located the phone on her desk and tapped the screen. A text message from Sammy that read, ”Incoming,”made her sit up straight.
Who was approaching? Alex perhaps? Or Meghan?
”You”re in charge,”she told Nando. ”Get whatever you need. We”ve got another six or seven weeks of summer vacation activity. If animal playtime is an experience we can give the littles, I say go for it.”
”Thanks, Mrs. T.”He gathered his show ”n” tell items. ”I”ll be in touch.”
When Nando turned to leave, he was blocked by a large object filling the doorway.
Jamie.
Nervousness lit up her insides. Feeling off balance, she fixed her hair quickly and ensured her shirt was buttoned correctly.
Since their strange interaction, she”d done little else but think about the adorkable doctor. The things they”d said—the things they both revealed—lay heavy on her mind.
”Am I interrupting?”His voice wrapped around her nerves and squeezed. It was a curious feeling.
”Hey, Doc,”Nando greeted him with a friendly handshake. ”I was just about to clear out.” Turning to her, he nodded and said, ”I”ll be in touch,” and hurried away.
The back view of his atrocious haircut broke her composure. Slapping a hand over her mouth to cover her snort of laughter, she tried to reel it in but couldn”t.
Concerned, Jamie shut the office door and asked, ”Are you alright?”
She waved her hand and turned away. All she needed were a few seconds to get her shit together.
Don”t laugh. Don”t laugh. Don”t laugh.
It was no use. When Jamie put his hands on her shoulders, she lost it as he turned her around.
Exploding with wheezing, unladylike laughter, she attempted to speak but couldn”t.
It took the good doctor a moment to realize she was fine—nothing to be concerned about.
Reaching for a tissue, she blew her nose but needed a second tissue when she laughed again.
”I”m going to hell,”she giggled once her speaking ability returned.
”Care to share?”
Becca knew she shouldn”t—talking about her employees gave her a pot-calling-the-kettle-black vibe—but couldn”t help herself.
”What the hell with the professionally colored, Jim Carrey, Dumb and Dumber haircut? He knows he”s essentially a sweaty cowboy, right?”
Jamie briefly glanced at the door Nando had just walked through. He paused for a second and then turned back, wearing a cheeky grin.
”It”s called a Caesar cut, and yes,it”snamed after the Roman emperor.”He took out his phone and tapped on the screen. ”See?”
Holding the phone for her to look at, she snorted with laughter yet again. ”Oh dear god, you”re serious.”
”Wait. It gets better.”
Giggling like a little boy up to no good, he took a selfie and then worked his phone.
”Check it out.”His voice contained laughter and a shit ton of mockery.
Gazing at the phone, it took half a moment for her to understand that she was looking at Jamie”s picture selfie, wearing a tousled hairstyle with a bleached crown and shaved fades on the side.
It was too much. She lost it in spectacular fashion.
Pounding her chest like a centurion, she barked, ”Hail Caesar,”and then fell apart with gales and honks of laughter.
He showed her the same selfie with a mullet, a perm with curly hair, something called a pompadour, and another oddity he called a textured quaff mohawk.
Crossing her legs, she swatted his chest and bawled, ”Stop, or I”ll pee my pants.”
”I”m lazy,”he quipped.”Keeping it classic, like Clooney, is easy, but lately, I”ve been considering going longer. Guys in their 40s look good with waves and some scruff.”
Classic like Clooney? Was that what he said?
Her laughter calmed. She eyed him critically. Classic suited him. But so would something shaggier—long and tousled was a hot, sexy look.
She snapped to attention. Hot and sexy? Where did that thought come from?
Oh, wait.
She knew the answer.
With a heaving sigh, she remembered sitting cross-legged on her bed for hours and hours as she fell down the internet rabbit hole of domination and submission. Wading through tons of creepy sexual content gave her some concern until she finally found smart, adult content about the practice, its history, and how it plays out in today”s culture.
It was the first-hand accounts of women who considered themselves feminists exploring the complexities of sexual kink with an emphasis on the Dom-sub relationship that she couldn”t stop reading. When submitting to male authority, the power exchange didn”t make the submissive weak. Instead, the women report feelings of power. The choice to submit, to be dominated, that whole idea made Becca”s knees tremble and shake.
She knew what it was like to be assertive. A ballbuster, if you will. Being in control and getting shit done was what she did best. Handing that control to another, submitting, well, that was virgin territory.
Unless she was horribly mistaken, though, that was precisely what Jamie Hunter was suggesting.
Maybe he was warning her—she”d considered that as well.
It didn”t matter. Now that he”d cracked the seal, she wanted more, and thinking about the tall, dark, and handsome doctor in sexual ways was part of that wanting.
”Does being in your 40s bother you?”she asked.
”Oh hell, no. I”d rather be 40 than 30—that”s for sure.”
Becca thought about Jamie”s backstory and immediately understood why.
The words, ”Well, if it matters any, I think you make the 40s look good,”fell out of her mouth.
His pleased expression did not go unnoticed.
Desperate to change the subject, her eyes darted about. There was a small bakery box on her desk that had not been there earlier.
”What”s that?”she asked, pointing at the box.
”Oh, right,”Jamie answered—his voice husky. ”That”s my excuse for dropping by sans invitation.”
My goodness, she thought. Did he just call her out for ghosting him since their last talk?
Startled, she lurched forward and quickly blurted, ”You don”t need an invitation.”
”Good to know.”His smile warmed her from the inside out. ”Anyway, I brought you double fudge brownies—made last night with you in mind.”
This time, she was the one with the pleased expression.
The smile in his brownish-gold eyes sent a zing of yearning straight to her sexual center. ”I”m going to totally own my next statement, okay?”
One corner of her mouth quivered with amusement. ”This ought to be rich.”
He laughed like she expected the brownies to be—deep, rich, and satisfying.
”Never have I ever,”he began with the opening line from a drinking game she”d played many times and then paused.
The hesitation felt important. Unless she read him wrong, he was about to say something—she focused intently, waiting.
”Been involved with a mom. It sounds cheesy—saying it out loud, but that”s my truth.Don”tread anything into it. There was no conscious avoidance or bias involved.”He shrugged. ”I”ve simply never been in this position before. It”s interesting because moms have most, if not all, answers. You speak with confident authority even if your words make no goddamn sense whatsoever. That sort of thing rattles a man”s cage.”
”Wow. That was quite a declaration.”She fidgeted slightly—licking her lips and fixing her hair to cover her reaction. In basic terms, he made his intentions clear.
”I”m pleased you see it that way.”
Their gazes locked, and just like that, the air in her small office pulsed with things she had not felt in a long time—maybe never.
”Now that we”ve established the need for me to step up my game, open your mouth.”
”What?”She jerked straight and stepped back, startled by the command.
He flipped the bakery box lid and reached inside.
”I like my brownies to be soft and chewy,”he told her with an undeniable twinkle in his eyes.
He winked, adding the word most females banned, ”Moist.”
She let out a snort of laughter as he broke off a piece of the brownie and held it to her lips.
”Open wide.”
She had no damn idea why a blush crept onto her cheeks, but one did. This was a level of flirtation where she had never set foot.
Her body came alive. Pleasure pulsed from every nerve. Jamie knew what he was doing—that thought alone was sobering.
New sensations flooded her system. She felt light-headed and firmly in control at the same time.
She wanted to smirk but didn”t. Instead, she tilted her head to meet his gaze and opened her mouth. When he placed the morsel of brownie on her tongue, it felt like taking communion. The similarity rocked her world.
The brownie was as promised—soft and chewy with a deep, rich chocolate flavor. Oh, and it was moist—pleasurably so.
”Mmm.”Her eyes closed. The delicious flavors and lovely texture made her taste buds very happy.
When she swallowed and looked at him, he was ready with another morsel. Without hesitation, she accepted with an open mouth.
”Good girl,”he chuckled, laughing low and husky. ”Feeding you is quite satisfying.”
Becca heard the playful note in his voice. She”d never cared much for being teased—it always felt like having her power dialed back. But Jamie”s teasing had an edge, which she responded to with pleasure.
She was sorely inexperienced and flirted tentatively by licking brownie residue off her lips. In a hushed purr, she admitted what he already knew.
”Chocolate is my guilty pleasure.”
He reacted with a lecherous grin that made her knees weak. ”One of many, I hope.”
The swiftness of her mouth going bone dry took her by surprise. Swallowing was difficult.
In a low, sexy voice, he growled, ”Guilty pleasures are my love language.”
The air around them buzzed with intensity. Borrowing from an oft-used phrase, Becca thought, We”re not in Kansas anymore.
* * *
Jamie sucked in a breath—hisheart raced. Without thought or hesitation he”d all but declared his feelings to the delightful woman staring at him with wonder in her eyes.
They”d effortlessly leaped into the breech.He”dchosen his fate and assumed Rebecca had done the same.
His therapist called these momentous moments prendre la balle au bond, loosely translated from the French, whichmeans committing to a decisive step. Demonstrating his Alpha Dom prowess by feeding her and planting suggestive words like moist and guilty pleasures was a decisive choice—one he was surprisingly content with.
In a short period, his attitude had gone from fuck that smart-mouthed bitch to wanting a deeper, more personal relationship.
He saw clearly how this moment had been hurtling toward him from their first encounter. The months and months of snarling and bitching was the strangest courtship ever, and yet it worked—for them.
A switch inside him turned on with a decisive click. The exhilarating whoosh excited and calmed him at the same time. It had been a long time since he stepped into his power.
Feeling he”d gone as far as he should, he eased his foot off the pedal and lightened his approach.
Handing her what was left of the brownie, he asked,”So, did my offering of chocolate work?”
Her response was to smile slyly while pushing the last of the fudgy treat into her mouth.
”Am I cleared to continue?”
Covering the bottom of her face with a hand, she mumbled through the mouthful of brownie, ”Sure.”
”Waiting for you to come to me wasn”t working.”
”I needed time to do some research.”
He stopped and stared. She did research? ”If you wanted to know more, I wish you”d have let me have some input.”
Her scoff was pure Rebecca.”I assure you that I am fully capable of conducting a thorough search.”
”And what did you find out? Come to any conclusions?”
The laugh she gave was full and intriguing.
”Conclusions? Yeah, one, for sure.”
”And?”he asked.
”I think I get why the dominant and submissive arrangement is so popular with women—and by women, I”m referring to the Justice Ladies, of course.”
Her candor was refreshing. He smiled and nodded.
”I know more than a little about this subject, so you might imagine I”d be blasé about the local hanky panky. Wrong,”he chuckled. ”The first time I spied Alex and Meghan sneaking out of their barn lair—giggling like naughty teenagers—my shock was so real that I needed a drink.”
”Oh my god, I remember! You were rather pale.”
It was encouraging that their vibe felt light and easy. She wasn”t defensive and sharp-tongued, and he felt no need to be a dick. Jamie wasn”t kidding himself, though— he knew damn well it wouldn”t take much for them to start yelling at each other, but at least they were making progress.
Rebecca”s amused, soft laugh wrapped around his emotions. She had the cutest way of ever-so-slightly smirking while puckering her lips. Her voice was tinged with humor when she spoke.
”Are you familiar with the term wig-wag?”
He shook his head. ”No. I can”t say I”ve heard that one before. What does it mean?”
”In the movie business, a sound stage has a red light near each door that flashes when the cameras are rolling to let people in the area know they shouldn”t enter or exit. The light is called a wig-wag.”
”Okay,”he chuckled. ”I know what you”re talking about.”
”Do the math, Jamie,”she laughed. ”The barn needs a wig-wag, so those of us just going about our daily lives have a heads up when Mr. and Mrs. Sexy Times are getting their freak on inside the building.”
Moving closer, he faced her resting his butt on her desk. Lowering to eye level, he was close enough to touch—so he did.
Brushing hair that had loosened from its clip off her shoulder, he noted her response with a throb of satisfaction.
”It”s encouraging that you see some humor in the situation.”
She rolled her eyes—a reminder that Rebecca Tate was no pushover.
”Jamie, I know none of this is a game, and to the people engaging in the behavior, it”s real life. As serious as it all is, well, come on! Some of it is funny as hell.”
”You are a complicated lady, Mrs. Tate, and I”m having a tough time figuring out what you”re thinking.”
Her answering grin struck his funny bone. When she laughed, he knew there”d never be a better time to ball up and ask her out.
”Is that what you”re doing?”she asked with a giggle. ”Well, fiddle-de-de! Then I guess we”ll have to spend time together so you can try figuring me out.”
Wait.
Jamie gave his head a quick shake. Had she just beat him to it and asked him out? What the fuck was happening?
Sounding like a fourteen-year-old doofus, he croaked, ”Uh, did you just ask me out?”
She looked as surprised as he was for a second, and then she blushed, smirked, and sighed.
”Just trying to score some feminist points while I still can.”
”While you”re scoring estrogen points, I have a confession to make.”
Her brows shot up, and she looked concerned but said nothing.
”The part about making the brownies and thinking about you is the truth.”
They were eyeball to eyeball—gazes locked.
”I thought you”d want to talk some more and frankly was miffed when that wasn”t the case.”
”I explained why. Research, remember?”
”I figured the brownies were a great icebreaker—one that would lead to us spending time together, but by this morning, I still didn”t know how to proceed. Your silence rattled my chains.”
She bit her lip, blushed, and goddammit if her eyes didn”t lower like a proper submissive.
”Anyway, your kid dropped by earlier and all but begged me to take you off her hands for a few hours.”
”Excuse me, what?”she yelped, with splotches of scarlet staining her cheeks.
”You heard me. So I came here to ask you out, brownies in hand, and hoping I wouldn”t have to throw Kori under the bus if you declined. Luckily, you asked me first.”
The astonished embarrassment in her expression did a lot for his ego.
With a slight grin, he said, ”Since there”s no time like the present, what are you doing tonight?”
”T-tonight?”
Despite her stammer, darting gaze, lip biting, and embarrassment, Jamie also detected excitement. Things were proceeding way better than he had dreamed.