Chapter 4
ROD
I woke up with the weight of her curled against me. Her soft curves pressed to my side and her hair was tickling my chin.
Becca. My Becca.
The thought hit me like a freight train. Two days. I'd known her for two goddamn days and already my brain was claiming her. But as I watched her sleep, I couldn't deny the truth of it.
She was mine now, and I was hers.
There wasn't a force in nature that could convince me otherwise.
Christmas was coming fast, and for the first time in years, I actually gave a shit. My fingers traced down her bare arm, and she shivered before pressing closer to me.
Last night she'd given me her virginity. The most precious gift she could have bestowed on an old grump like me, and that sat heavy and important in my chest. I didn’t take her gift for granted, and I wouldn’t let her regret it.
"Morning," she mumbled against my skin as her eyes fluttered open to reveal those deep blue pools I already wanted to drown in.
I brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. "Morning, baby girl."
Her cheeks flushed pink at the nickname, but her smile spread wide. "Is that what I am now? Your baby girl?"
"If you want to be." I kept my voice neutral despite the way my heart hammered. Damn, I never got this worked up over a woman.
She nodded and bit her lip. "I do. I really do."
"Good. I want that too.” I pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “You hungry?"
"Starving." She stretched against me and winced slightly.
"Sore?" I couldn't help but feel a possessive pride from having left a lasting impression on her body.
She ducked her head. "A little. But the good kind of sore." Her eyes met mine again, bold despite her blush. "I liked everything we did."
"Me too, baby girl." I rolled from the bed and pulled on sweatpants. "I’ll make breakfast."
"Perfect, then I’ll take a quick shower." She slipped from the bed, unashamed of her nudity. Her body was soft and curvy, not stick-thin like the women on magazine covers. Becca was perfect. Real. When she noticed my stare, she crossed her arms over her middle.
"Don't." I crossed to her and gently pulled her arms away. "You're beautiful. Every inch of you. I like looking at you."
"I'm not..." She started to protest, but I cut her off with a kiss.
"You are. To me." I grabbed the clothes she came in with that I’d washed. "Here are your clothes.”
She took them and frowned. “Thank you, but I kinda like wearing yours.”
I liked it too. “You’re welcome to anything.”
While she showered, I made a few omelets with bacon and let Killer out to go potty. He liked to run the perimeter a few times before coming back in, so I didn’t expect to see him until after we’d eaten.
There was a scratch at the front door, and I heard Killer's whine just as I was clearing our breakfast dishes. "Can you please let him in?"
“Of course.” She hopped off the stool and padded to the door. When she opened the door, Killer bounded in with something in his mouth. Instead of coming to me for post-potty scratches as usual, he went straight to Becca and dropped a pinecone at her feet.
"Oh!" She knelt down and took a closer look. "Is this for me, Killer?"
The dog's tail wagged so hard his whole rear end shook. He nudged the pinecone closer to her with his nose.
Becca picked up the pinecone like it was made of gold instead of just forest debris. "Thank you! It's beautiful." She held it up and examined it from all angles. "Look, Rod! It's perfectly symmetrical. And it still has some pine sap on it, so it smells amazing."
Something in my chest contracted painfully as I watched her. She treated that stupid pinecone like it was the most precious gift she'd ever received.
"I think he’s in love," I said, my voice almost croaky.
"I am too." She scratched behind Killer's ears, and his eyes closed in bliss. "You're such a good boy, aren't you? Bringing me presents. What a thoughtful doggy woggy."
Killer flopped onto his back and shamelessly begged for a belly rub. Traitor.
"He's never brought me a present." Unless you counted the occasional live mouse he’d deliver into the house. I didn’t.
"Really?" Her eyes widened, and she looked back at the pinecone in her hand. "Then I'll treasure it forever." She set it carefully on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, positioning it just so. "There. Now I can see all the time."
My heart clenched again. She was so genuine and pure in her reactions. No fakeness at all. Just sweet baby girl Becca.
Her eyes kept darting to the window, looking at the snow-covered pines outside.
"What is it?" I could sense that she had something to say but had no idea what it could be.
She hesitated and then shrugged. "It's just...it's almost Christmas."
"Yeah?"
"Do you plan to get a Christmas tree?" She looked hopeful, and there was no way I could say no.
I frowned. "Not usually, but there are some small trees out back that would make a pretty good Christmas tree."
Her face fell slightly, though she tried to hide it. "Oh, that's okay. I was just wondering."
Fuck. I couldn't stand seeing that look of disappointment. "I’ll get one."
Her head snapped up. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"
"Wouldn't have offered if I minded." I kissed her cheek and then went to put on my boots. "I'll go cut one down. It won’t take long."
“Thank you!” She jumped up and clapped her hands. "Can I come watch?"
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me. "Better put some pants on first."
She giggled and dashed to get in her jeans from yesterday but still wearing my flannel shirt.
Once we were both ready, we went outside.
"Stay close." We trudged through the snow with Killer bounding ahead of us. "There are drop-offs you can't see under the snow."
She nodded and stuck right by my side, occasionally grabbing my arm for balance. The forest around my cabin was thick with pines of all sizes. I scanned for one that would fit in my living room without being too sparse.
"What about that one?" She pointed to a six-foot blue spruce.
"Good eye." It was well-shaped and the perfect size. "Stand back."
I pulled the axe from my belt and made quick work of the tree. It fell with a satisfying thump into the snow. When I looked back at Becca, her eyes were wide with admiration.
"That was hot," she said and then immediately blushed.
I couldn't help the laugh that burst out of me. "Glad you approve, baby girl."
I dragged the tree back to the cabin with Becca and Killer following in my tracks. I used some plywood to make a simple stand and then set up the tree in the corner of the living room.
Becca stood back and inspected it. "It's perfect!"
I suddenly realized the flaw in our plan. I hadn't decorated for Christmas since...well, ever in this cabin. "Not much to decorate it with."
She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Do you have any old magazines? And tape? Maybe some string?"
I rummaged through a cabinet and found a stack of outdated outdoor and engineering magazines. "Will these work?"
"Yep!" Her eyes lit up. "And popcorn. Do you have popcorn?"
I nodded. "In the pantry."
"Can we make some? I'll show you something my grandma taught me."
For the next hour, I watched her pop kernels on the stove and start stringing them together with a needle and thread I found in my emergency kit. She hummed Christmas songs under her breath as she worked, occasionally asking me to hold one end of the growing garland.
"What do you think?" She held up the first completed strand, beaming with pride.
"Looks good. How much more do you want to make?"
"Enough to go around the whole tree!" She bounced in her seat. "And I'm gonna make paper stars from the magazine pages. The colorful ones."
"You'll be at this all day." I thumbed through a magazine and was glad there were lots of ads for her to use.
She paused and looked up at me. "Is that okay? I don't want to waste your day."
I touched her cheek. "Nothing I'd rather watch than you."
Her smile could have lit the whole damn forest. I left her to her crafting and took care of a few chores around the cabin, checking in regularly to find her completely absorbed in her task.
By mid-afternoon, she'd created several garlands of popcorn and dozens of folded paper stars in different sizes.
"Ready to decorate?" Her eyes were shining with excitement.
I helped her drape the popcorn garlands around the tree and hang the paper stars from branches using bits of string. As she directed me where to place things, her voice became progressively higher and her words simpler.
I recognized the shift immediately. She was slipping into her Little space.
"Can you lift me up to put the biggest star on top?" Her voice was small and sweet.
I hoisted her up by the waist, and she giggled as she placed the star. When I set her down, she stayed in my arms and looked up at me with wide, trusting eyes.
"I never had someone special to spend Christmas with before."
"Good thing you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
She nodded and then sucked in a breath. “Was it weird when I called you Daddy?”
“Not at all.” I held her close to me and wrapped my folded arms over her chest. “Not for me. I thought it was hot.”
“Me too.” She grinned but didn’t elaborate.
I’d been working up the nerve for this discussion and now the time had come. "Becca, do you want to call me Daddy outside of the bedroom too?"
Her eyes went huge. "Kinda. Is that okay?"
"Better than okay. I'd like it." The truth was written all over my face. "A lot."
She hesitated, then whispered, "Thank you, Daddy. For taking care of me."
Her innocence and manners ignited something fierce and protective in my chest as I pulled her close. "That's right, baby girl. Daddy's got you."
She melted against me, and the dynamic between us shifted again.
"Can we have hot chocolate, Daddy?" Her voice was small and hopeful.
"Of course we can." I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You sit and admire your tree while I make it."
In the kitchen, I prepared two mugs of hot chocolate, adding extra marshmallows to hers. When I returned, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring up at the tree with wonder.
Killer had settled beside her with his head in her lap.
"Here you go, baby girl." I handed her the mug and sat on the couch behind her.
"Thank you, Daddy." She took a careful sip and sighed happily. "It's perfect."
"Wanna watch a movie?" I ran my fingers through her hair.
She nodded enthusiastically. "A Christmas movie. Please, Daddy!"
"Whatever you want."
She chose Elf, so I forced myself to watch with her curled into my side. As the movie played, she gradually relaxed more and more, occasionally asking questions or making observations in her soft, childlike voice.
About halfway through the second movie, I felt her grow heavy against me. Her breathing deepened, and I realized she'd fallen asleep. Killer was lying at our feet with his chin resting on his paws as he watched over us both.
I looked down at this woman who'd crashed into my life two days ago and smiled. Her face was peaceful in sleep, her lips slightly parted, her hand clutching the fabric of my shirt. Something fierce and permanent took root in my chest.
She’s mine.
The thought wasn't a question anymore. It was certainty.
I knew I wanted her to stay, but not just for Christmas or a fling. Forever. The speed of it all should have terrified me, but it felt right. Like finding a piece of myself I hadn't known was missing.
I brushed her hair back from her face, and she murmured in her sleep, pressing closer.
"I've got you, baby girl." My voice was barely above a whisper. "Daddy's got you."
And I would never let her go.