Chapter 4
But I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Tyler. Felt his hands in my hair. Heard him calling me a good girl in that deep, commanding voice that made my insides melt.
I spent an hour last night rereading texts from the book club, getting advice from Madison about navigating a new Daddy/little dynamic, and another hour staring at my ceiling wondering if this is really happening.
Tyler Reid. Interested in me.
It feels like a dream.
I'm pulling fresh cinnamon rolls from the oven when my phone buzzes.
Tyler: Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?
My heart does a little flip.
Chloe: Not really. Too excited.
Tyler: About what?
Chloe: Seeing you today.
Tyler: I couldn't sleep either. Kept thinking about you.
Chloe: Yeah?
Tyler: Yeah. About that kiss and how sweet you tasted. How perfect you fit into my arms…
Heat floods through me. Is he allowed to say things like that? To make me feel like this at 4:45 in the morning?
Tyler: Did you eat breakfast this morning?
I look at the cinnamon roll I've been nibbling. Does that count?
Chloe: I had a cinnamon roll.
Tyler: That's dessert, not breakfast. Did you eat any protein? Fruit?
Oh. He's doing the Daddy thing. Already.
Chloe: Not yet.
Tyler: Chloe.
Just my name. But the way he types it, I can hear the gentle reproach in his voice.
Chloe: I'll eat something. Promise.
Tyler: Good girl. I'll check when I get there. I'll be there at 6:05
I stare at my phone, warmth spreading through my chest.
He's checking on me. Making sure I take care of myself.
And instead of feeling controlled or suffocated, I feel... cared for.
I scramble some eggs and eat them with wheat toast, taking a photo as proof and sending it to Tyler.
Tyler: That's my good girl. Proud of you.
I'm grinning like an idiot when Jess arrives at 5:30.
"Someone's in a good mood," she observes, tying on her apron.
"I had a good night."
"I heard. Emily texted me. Said you and Tyler are exploring the dynamic?" She waggles her eyebrows. "Does that mean what I think it means?"
"If you think it means we're seeing each other and figuring out if we're compatible, then yes."
"Compatible how?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Just... compatible."
"Chloe are you blushing?"
"No."
"You absolutely are. Oh my God, is he a Daddy Dom? Is that what this is?"
I busy myself with wiping down the espresso machine. "Maybe."
Jess squeals. "I knew it! The way he looks at you, all protective and intense. Total Daddy energy. I’ve thought that about him for months."
"Can we not analyze this right now?"
"Fine. But I'm totally grilling you later." She starts setting up the pastry case. "Also, you made extra cinnamon rolls. Special occasion?"
"I'm experimenting with a new recipe."
"Sure you are. It has nothing to do with a certain soldier who might be stopping by."
"Jess—"
"I'm just saying, you're acting like a girl with a crush who wants to impress her man. It's adorable."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
At exactly 6:05, Tyler walks through the door.
He's in civilian clothes again. He’s wearing jeans and a navy t-shirt that stretches across his chest in a way that should be illegal.
I know he has to stay in shape for work but is it a requirement that he has zero body fat?
His hair is slightly damp like he just showered, and he's carrying something.
A small pink gift bag.
"Morning," he says, approaching the counter.
"Morning." I can't stop smiling. "What's that?"
"A gift. For you." He sets it on the counter. "Open it."
"Tyler, you didn't have to—"
"I wanted to. Open it, sweetheart."
The endearment makes my stomach flutter. I pull out the tissue paper and find a travel mug. But not just any travel mug, it's pink with little white hearts and the words "Daddy's Girl" in elegant script.
My breath catches.
"I saw it and thought of you," Tyler says, watching my reaction carefully. "If it's too much, too soon, I can return it. I just—"
"It's perfect." My voice cracks. "I love it."
His smile is relieved. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I trace the words with my finger. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. There's something else in the bag."
I dig deeper and find a small stuffed animal. A gray kitten that looks remarkably like Mochi.
"So, you can have her with you even when you're at work," Tyler explains. "I know you probably think it's silly—"
"It's not silly." Tears prick my eyes. "It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Don't cry, sweetheart. You'll make me feel bad."
"Happy tears. I promise." I am such a crier. I wonder briefly if that annoys him about me? I can’t help it. I’m just an emotional girl. I clutch the kitten to my chest. "Can I hug you?"
"You never have to ask permission to touch me, baby."
I come around the counter and throw my arms around him. He's solid and warm and smells like soap and something distinctly masculine.
His arms come around me, and squeeze me super tight to him. I feel every bit of his strength as he holds me to him and I like it, a lot.
"Thank you," I whisper against his chest.
"Anything for my girl."
My girl.
I could get used to that.
Jess clears her throat loudly. "Not to interrupt this Hallmark moment, but we have customers."
I pull back reluctantly to find three soldiers waiting patiently, all of them grinning.
Heat floods my face. "Sorry. What can I get you?"
They place their order, two Americanos and a caramel latte, and I get to work while Tyler settles onto a bar stool.
He watches me work with that same intense focus he always has. But now I know what it means. He's not just watching me, he's learning. Noticing. Paying attention to every detail. Details he will catalogue and remember later, as he has proven already.
"Did you eat your breakfast?" he asks once the soldiers leave.
"Yes. I sent you a photo, remember?"
"I remember, but just because you made it, doesn’t mean you ate it.”
“I ate it. Every bite.”
“I'm proud of you for listening."
The praise warms me from the inside out. "I always listen to good advice."
"Is that what I am? Good advice?"
"Among other things." I start making his usual Americano without asking. "What are you doing today? You don’t have to work?"
"No, I have the day off but I’m on call. I’m going grocery shopping, catching up on laundry. Exciting stuff." He pauses. "What about you?"
"Working until two, then I need to check on Mochi, do some bookkeeping and check on payroll and then—"
"When do you rest?"
"Rest?"
"Yeah. Downtime. Relaxation. Time when you're not working or taking care of other people or responsibilities."
I think about it. "I don't know. I read before bed?"
"That's not enough." His voice goes firm. "You need actual rest. Time to decompress and recharge."
"I'm fine—"
"Chloe." He waits until I meet his eyes. "How many hours did you work this week?"
"I don't know. Sixty?"
"And how many hours did you spend taking care of yourself?"
I don't answer because we both know the number is really small.
"That's what I thought." He accepts the coffee I hand him. "We need to talk about this."
"About what?"
"About you running yourself into the ground. About how you give and give until there's nothing left." His gaze is steady. "That stops now."
A thrill runs through me. Part nerves, part excitement.
"You can't just... decide that."
"I can if you give me permission to." He leans forward. "That's what a Daddy does, sweetheart. He makes sure his little girl takes care of herself. And if she won't do it on her own, he helps her."
"Helps how?"
"By setting rules and delivering consequences when those rules aren't followed."
My mouth goes dry, I lower my voice to make sure no one overhears us. "Consequences?"
"We'll talk about that later. When we have privacy." His eyes flick to Jess, who's pretending not to listen while obviously listening to every word. "But the point stands. You need to rest. Actually, rest. Not just collapse into bed exhausted at midnight."
"What do you suggest?"
"I suggest you close the shop at two like you planned. Then you come to my place."
"Your place?"
"I'll make you lunch. We'll watch a movie. You can take a nap if you want. Just... relax. Let someone take care of you for a few hours."
The offer is so tempting it physically hurts. When's the last time someone took care of me? Made me a meal that wasn't grabbed between customers or eaten standing over the sink?
"I have a kitten to check on," I say weakly.
"Bring her. I want to see how she's settling in anyway."
"Tyler—"
"Is this about the dynamic? Are you scared of being alone with me at my place?"
"No. Maybe. A little."
He reaches across the counter and takes my hand. "I will never push you into anything you're not ready for. If all we do is eat lunch and watch cartoons, that's fine. If you need space, you tell me and I'll back off. Your comfort and safety come first. Always."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tight.
"Okay," I hear myself say. "I'll come over. But only if you let me bring dessert."
"Deal. What are you bringing?"
"It's a surprise."
His smile is slow and warm. "I like surprises."
The morning rush picks up, and Tyler stays for another hour, working on his laptop at the counter. Every time I glance over, he's watching me. Not in a creepy way, in a way that makes me feel seen and protected.
When he finally leaves, he presses a kiss to my forehead. "See you at two-thirty, sweetheart. I'll pick you up."
"I can drive—"
"I know you can. I want to pick you up. "
There's that commanding tone again. The one that makes my knees weak and my brain go fuzzy.
"Okay," I whisper.
"Good girl."
He leaves, and I immediately text the group chat.
Chloe: He gave me a travel mug that says Daddy's Girl and a stuffed kitten and invited me to his place for lunch.
Madison: STOP. That's the cutest thing I've ever heard.
Lily: Ethan did similar things when we first started. The small gestures matter so much.
Holly: What are you going to wear?!