Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
“ O ne, two… THREE!” Boone said, and Tildi found herself flying through the air. She tried to summon her inner Supergirl, but as it turned out, she didn’t have one. She tried not to scream, but that was a lost cause as well.
Only ten seconds, Boone had said. She knew ten seconds was ten seconds on a clock, regardless of what was happening, but perception was a funny thing.
She’d seen a whiz kid solve two Rubik’s cubes in ten seconds. You could barely see his fingers move, and time seemed to fly. But then, she’d also seen a trick once where you could fold a T-shirt like a ninja in ten seconds. That might be true, but in the three day weekend she’d spent trying to master that skill, she’d come to the conclusion it was a highly overrated accomplishment.
The ten seconds Boone mentioned lasted an eternity. As long as it took for a bathroom stall to open up at the theatre when you were at the movie you’d been waiting all summer to see. Longer than it took for that person you just sent a really stupid text to reply while those freaking dots kept appearing and disappearing. Yeah, this was that kind of ten seconds.
She intended to keep her eyes closed, but once her feet left solid ground, she found it impossible not to watch the wall of water she hurtled toward grow closer. It consumed every thought in her brain. Was she going to splatter like a bug hitting a windshield? Or worse, was she going to be swallowed by the frigid waters of the ocean and have mermaids drag her all the way down to Davy Jones’s locker?
She forgot to be Supergirl. She forgot to count down from ten. She forgot to breathe. She forgot everything, including the fact that Boone was holding onto her.
No, in her mind, it was just her careening through the air at Mach 10.
A few seconds in, the straps wrapped around her thighs and chest jerked, biting into her skin and snapping her back to reality. She was going to have bruises, but at least it slowed her speed a bit. Just as he’d promised, Boone used the parachute’s grips to steer them further out over the water. The crests of the waves painted white streaks in the dark, slate-gray water.
“You’ve got this, babygirl,” Boone shouted in her ear. At least, she thought he did. It was hard to hear over the rushing wind and the flapping of the parachute.
The only thing keeping her from losing it completely was his powerful thighs gripping her hips and the heat from his body against hers. That was nice. She should focus on that rather than plunging to certain death.
The cold wind still whipped her face and legs, even though their speed had slowed to a rapid glide. Boone shifted, still holding her hips with his thighs but now hooking his feet behind her knees. By leaning back, he tilted them to a slight reclining angle, and even with all the danger and adrenaline coursing through her, what his thighs might make her do in much more pleasant situations consumed her mind.
“Point your toes and breathe deep, Bluebell,” he yelled just before her feet touched the water. He released her a millisecond before she hit the bitingly frigid waters of the northern Pacific Ocean, pulling down on the release cord for the chute.
The last thing she heard as the water swallowed her was Boone shouting, “Fuck!”
If her lungs hadn’t already been full of air, she wouldn’t have been able to stifle the gasp the cold water almost wrenched from her. It was a good thing, too, because she hit the water and kept going down.
It was so cold her muscles stiffened almost on impact. With straight legs and pointed toes, she sliced through the water like a bullet. The pressure built, and her ears hurt, but the real problem was the parachute. The push and pull of the current tossed her around like a ragdoll, causing the lines connecting the chute to her backpack to wrap themselves around her like a spiderweb. The more she struggled, the tighter the cords bound her.
How was she supposed to get to the surface when she wasn’t even sure which way the surface was? Kicking her feet helped slow her descent, but she continued to sink, and the already icy water grew colder the deeper she went. Her chest began burning, and the need to breathe overwhelmed her. Her rising panic wasn’t helping, either.
Where the heck was Boone? She hadn’t read the manual, but letting your Little drown within hours of becoming her Daddy seemed to go against the whole Daddy Code thing.
Strong tentacles gripped her leg, and she let out precious bubbles of air when she yelped in surprise. She fought against whatever held her. Every B-rated sci-fi movie about giant squid drowning unwary swimmers played in her head. She might go down, but she was going down fighting.
Opening her eyes only made them burn, but she managed to squint long enough to recognize that Boone, not a giant squid, held fast to her calf. He tugged hard on her leg and held up one finger. She shook her head back at him but stilled so he could do whatever he was trying to do.
He pressed a knife against her thigh, slicing through the straps of the backpack imprisoning her. When they fell away from her legs, he repeated the action with the harness straps over her chest and shoulders. She could have cried with relief when the weight from the parachute that pulled her down slipped away and disappeared into the dark waters below.
With one arm wrapped around her waist, he swam them both to the surface. The wind whipped her face, the salty water burned in her eyes, and she had no idea how to stay up where she belonged. It was all she could do not to sing “Out of the Sea, Wish I Could Be” from The Little Mermaid.
Before she could do anything, Boone had flipped her onto her back. Shifting his arm from her waist to her chest, he started moving, but not toward the shore. No, he was heading out to sea. That was what she thought until he curved them around a pointed tip of land and said, “Hold on, Bluebell. You’re doing great. We’re almost to my Zodiac.”
“Your what?” she managed to gasp out. He hadn’t struck her as the horoscope type.
“My boat. It’s small, but it will take us to the yacht.”
Um, a yacht?
She’d never been on anything bigger than a rowboat before, much less a freaking yacht.
She opened her mouth to ask more questions, only to have it filled with nasty, briny water. It took all she had not to throw up everything she’d already swallowed, but she couldn’t hold back the coughs.
“Keep your mouth closed, little girl. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Boone shouted. “We’ll talk on the boat.”
She pressed her lips together and went back to trying not to think about all the creatures swimming in the water with them.
Once they got to his boat, Boone lifted her over the side of what amounted to an inflatable dinghy not much bigger than the innertubes they used at the local waterparks. Was this thing big enough not to flood or capsize? They were in a pretty big ocean.
If she hadn’t been freezing and completely exhausted, she would have flipped over the other side and taken her chances swimming to the yacht. As it was, she lay on the floor of the life raft and watched him push himself out of the water and climb aboard. She scratched at the floor, trying to grab hold of something, anything, as the Zodiac tipped and swayed from the new weight he added.
She hated boats. Hated. Them.
Once, as a young teenager, she’d gone out in a tiny boat on Sunset Lake with two guys. They thought it was hilarious how scared she became when they rocked the small boat so violently it almost tipped over. She was frantic by the time they agreed to take her back to shore. She’d never been in a boat since, until now.
Boone’s boat had low sides and wasn’t very wide. The shivers now wracking her body had nothing to do with the cold. She’d only thought she might throw up in the water. She tried taking shallow breaths and staring at the bottom of the boat—the itsy bitsy, teeny tiny, lightweight boat that would carry her away from the shore and any hopes of survival.
What had she let him talk her into? She’d already jumped out a second-story window. Then she’d jumped off a freakin cliff, swam–well, been dragged through–God only knew what infested waters. But this? This just might be her breaking point.
She flinched when Boone stepped next to her and pulled her up to a seated position.
Wrapping a mylar blanket around her, he said, “Keep this pulled tight around you while I untether the boat and get us underway.” He tilted her face up to look at him and must have seen something was wrong. Dropping onto one knee beside her, he asked, “You okay, Bluebell? I know it’s cold, but it’s only about fifteen minutes to the rendezvous point. Once we get there, I’ll get you in a hot shower and find you something warm to eat.”
She just stared at him, unsure of how she was supposed to react. How was one supposed to look when being ferried out to certain death? Whatever it was, she did it wrong because he dropped his other knee. Kneeling in front of her, he cupped her face in his hands.
She tried to be strong, doing her best to make her expression blank. After everything she’d been through the past year, this should be a piece of cake. Her fear was irrational. People rode in these kinds of boats all the time, and nothing bad happened to them.
But rational had nothing to do with feelings. Her panting breath began to hitch. It was as if an invisible hand was squeezing her throat, cutting off her air. She tried to breathe, but it wasn’t working.
“Tildi, look at me,” Boone said. Like a magnet, his deep calm voice drew her attention. “Tell me five things you see in the boat.”
What? What good was that supposed to do? It was silly. But he was her Daddy, for now, so she scanned the area around her.
“Rope. Um, shiny tinfoil blanket. O-o-oar. Um, life jacket, and… and you.”
He smiled and nodded. “Good girl, those were good answers. Now, four things you hear.”
She focused for a moment, then said, “Waves, my heart beating, birds.” She could only hear three things. Why could she only hear three? Then she remembered the sound that calmed her better than anything else in the world.
Leaning forward, she pressed her ear to his chest, right above his heart. His skin was chilled from the water. What if she couldn’t hear over the wind? She stilled and listened.
There it was.
The thumping cadence of his heartbeat was the same as it had been before—strong and steady, unaffected and unchanging. She pulled back, returning her gaze to his. Smiling, she said, “Your heart beating.”
She didn’t recognize the expression on his face until he named it. “That’s good, babygirl. I’m proud of you.”
Everything in her world slid back into place. He was proud of her. No one had ever said those words to her before, not once until him. He’d told her twice now in less than twenty-four hours.
She’d graduated from the local college with her associate degree a week before she started twelfth grade in high school, having started taking college courses when she was fourteen. No one had been proud of her then. The General had told her that her GPA could have been higher. She’d dual enrolled in all her academic courses throughout her senior year, overstacking her course load, and no one said a word.
She graduated valedictorian of her class and was offered full scholarships to several Ivy League universities. Nothing. President of all the right clubs. Nada. Captain of the softball and volleyball teams. Silence. They hadn’t even come to her games.
“Eyes to me, little one.” Boone recaptured her attention, but this time, she saw him with new eyes.
This man could be trusted with her safety. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her because he was proud of her and not afraid to tell her. Even though she sat in a minuscule rubber boat, practically in the middle of the ocean, she was safer than she ever had been in her life.
“You want to tell me what’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours?” he asked.
If she told him, would he still be proud of her? Did he understand fear, even though he’d probably never been afraid of anything? Because even though she’d only known him a few hours, this man was stealing her heart.
Better to find out he wasn’t who she thought he was now rather than after she’d invested months and left everything behind to be with him, only to find out he was a sleazy, jerk-faced jackweed.
Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “I lied. I am afraid of boats. Like, really, really terrified. I know I told you I was afraid of jumping out the window, and off the cliff, but I think that wasn’t so much fear as common sense. But I’ve been afraid of boats for a long, long time.”
She held her breath again, but this time in anxious anticipation. Please let her not be wrong about him. Please let him be a real Daddy and not some creep who just wants a woman to serve him like a slave.
He reached for her, pulling her to him and curling his fingers around the back of her neck. “Thank you for telling me, Tildi. Thank you for your trust. I won’t take it for granted. One day soon, when you’re ready, you’re going to tell me why that was hard for you. But for now, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to sit right here between Daddy’s legs as I get us to the rendezvous point. I’m going to hold you the whole time. Does that sound better?”
She could barely speak past the lump in her throat, managing to warble out a whispered, “Okay.”
He smiled that crooked smile. “Okay, let’s get this life jacket on you. It was made for me. It is designed to keep a man weighing two hundred and eighty pounds afloat. I’m guessing you weigh, what, one hundred and twenty pounds sopping wet? What I’m trying to tell you is you are not going underwater with this on.”
He lowered it over her head and cinched in the waist.
“You good?” he asked. At her nod, he added, “Good. Now, let’s get you settled.”
He sat on the floor of the raft right in front of the motor’s steering stick. Then he pulled her into his lap, tucking the mylar blanket around her and pulling her back to press into his front. He wrapped his arm around her ribs and held her tight.
She relaxed against him, stretching her legs out in front of her, and closed her eyes. If she didn’t see the endless horizon of water they were heading into, she would be much calmer. With her eyes closed, she could pretend they were riding a motorcycle or something, anything as long as it was on land.
With her eyes closed, the rhythm and vibration of the small craft were soothing. It was almost like getting a massage. She snuggled further back into Boone. He was like a furnace, and his warmth was just what she needed to relax even more.
Once he knew she was comfortable, Boone sped up. That meant the motor worked harder and faster. Which meant the vibrations of the boat’s floor also grew in intensity. It didn’t take long before a need began to build inside her. A need you never would have convinced her she could have on a boat in a million years. If she’d ever imagined a situation like this, she might have gotten back in a boat years ago.
Boone must have noticed her squirming. Either that or the boat was affecting him as well. At least something was if his ever-hardening cock pressing against the crack of her bottom was anything to go by.
Soon her arousal took on a life of its own. The bottom of the boat was soft, which meant every bounce of the craft over the top of the water affected her. It was easy to imagine the pounding came from the stiff cock at her backside rather than the waves of the sea.
The thong of her panties put pressure in all the right places as well, and it was all she could do not to grind against the floor of the boat. The only thing stopping her was the huge wet spot that might be there when she stood up.
Despite her best efforts, a tiny moan escaped. Mortification forced open her eyes. Unable to control herself, she wiggled backward again to feel more of his hard cock, causing Boone to groan. “Bluebell, if you don’t want your tour of the yacht to be delayed for an hour or two when we get aboard, I’m going to need you to sit still.”
Here she was, freezing cold on a tiny boat in what felt like the middle of the Pacific, and she laughed—laughed! It bubbled up from her belly and escaped through her lips, shocking her.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” he growled, hopefully only pretending to be upset. His fingers flexed at her ribs, and she froze. “Naughty girls who make their Daddies hard and then giggle get consequences.”
Curiosity now warred with the desire burning inside. She wasn’t curious enough to overcome her fears and turn around to look at him, so keeping still, she asked, “Wh-what kind of consequences?”
He must have heard the fear in her voice. “Look at me, Bluebell,” he demanded. “I’ve got you.”
And he did. His broad hand was strong as he held her steady. She could do this. It wasn’t like her manic stare at the horizon was keeping them afloat. Probably. Sucking in a deep breath, she did as he asked.
Shifting slowly, she moved enough to look up at him and forgot about where they were. The heat and hunger in his eyes… no one had ever looked at her like that. Not with the same intensity and passion. She wasn’t just some girl who had ruined his plans to take out a target and was now around to scratch an itch. No, he wanted her as much as she wanted… she didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but whatever it was, she wanted to explore it with him. Just him.
He released the till long enough to turn her back around to face the front of the boat. Nestling her more securely between his thighs, he leaned forward to speak into her ear. His heated breath sent trills of desire down her body to settle between her thighs, where it turned into a steady, insistent quiver.
“All that squirming you’re doing makes Daddy think his babygirl has a problem that needs solving sooner rather than later.”
Even with the icy wind in her face, her cheeks felt like they might burst into flames. He knew. Of course, he seemed to be just as turned on as she was, so maybe it wasn’t so embarrassing. But he wasn’t done.
“If I touched that pretty pussy of yours, would I find it soaking wet?”
Oh god! She was going to come just from his words. No one had ever spoken to her like that. It caused the quivers tormenting her kitty to grow into a throbbing pulse.
His deep laughter at her rumbling told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Now, close your eyes.”
Um, if she didn’t see where they were going and what might be coming at them, how could she—how could she what? Do something to keep them safe? Not likely. But closing her eyes, that was hard.
“You can do it, sweet girl. I promise I’ll make it worth the effort.” If coaxing would work, he’d coax.
The timbre of his growly voice brushed her ears and dropped straight to her already weeping pussy. Steeling her nerves, she complied.
Without her view of the world around her intruding, everything else was magnified. The sounds of the motor and the boat crashing against the ocean waves. The scent of the salty water.
But what captured all her attention was the feelings rushing over her. The spray of the ocean water on her skin. The size of Boone’s erection pressed between her shoulder blades as she leaned back into him. The vibrations of the boat against her bottom and pussy.
“I want you to let yourself relax. Good girl. Now, rock your hips forward and press that hot as fuck pussy against the boat.”
She obeyed.
Her eyes flew open, and a surprised “Oh!” flew from her. Holy, holy crickets! The sensations she’d been feeling were nothing compared to what she experienced following his instructions.
Her heart raced, and her breathing grew ragged. The pulse in her pussy grew to spasms as her inner muscle fought for something to squeeze. Without being told, she rocked back and then forward again.
“That’s my dirty girl. That tiny skirt is finally going to come in handy. Pull it up, Tildi.”
“Daddy,” she gasped.
“Pull it up, babygirl. Let me see those sexy panties. Unless you want to use your safeword, do it now.”
The command was back in his voice. What he was asking was so naughty. She had a feeling it was just the start of what he had in store.
Did she dare? The boat hit a wave, causing her to rock forward so hard her clit touched the boat’s vibrations. Tendrils of electric shocks spiraled through her body.
When she regained her breath, without another thought, she tugged her skirt up above her hips.
“That’s my needy girl. Now bend your knees and slide your feet up to your ass.”
She obeyed without question.
“Let your knees fall open. Yeah, babygirl, just like that. You are being such a good girl for Daddy.”
She was going to die. Not from embarrassment as she’d thought. No, she was going to go insane with need. She had never been this aroused in her life. She grabbed his ankle, holding on for dear life.
“You are doing so good, babygirl. Have you ever used your fingers to make yourself come?”
Disappointment crashed over her. Tears stung her eyes.
“Answer me, Tildi,” he said. “Have you ever made yourself come?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have, but not very often. It takes me a long time, and the results aren’t really worth the effort.”
She attempted to sit up, but he held her in place.
“I want you to try again, babygirl. Let’s see if we can improve your experience. Can you do that for Daddy?”
He’d saved her life. She would do anything for him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too disappointed.
“I’ll try, Daddy,” she said. Even she heard the reluctance in her voice.
“That’s my good girl. Close your eyes again, and slip your hand inside your panties.”
Oh god! She couldn’t do something like that with him watching. What had she been thinking? He must have felt her stiffen. Before she knew it, his hand was on hers.
“Here, babygirl. Let Daddy help.”
He slid both their hands lower, lifting her skirt and slipping underneath her panties. His control over her was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced in her life. He didn’t stop until her finger rested over her clit. It was already slick with her arousal.
That would have embarrassed her, but before she could register any emotion except pleasure, he muttered, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Bluebell. It’s damn sexy.”
When he pressed her finger down, rolling it over and around her clit, she didn’t bother trying to hold back her whimpers and groans. This was nothing like the times she’d tried before.
Her hips fell into a natural rhythm, matching the swirls and strokes of her finger. She arched away from him, unable to hold herself down. “Daddy,” she groaned.
“Daddy’s got you, babygirl,” he said. “You are so damn hot. I want my mouth on you as soon as possible.”
His words ramped up her excitement to an almost fevered pitch. She pictured his tongue replacing her finger and pressed harder, circling faster.
“Are you close, babygirl?”
She had to be. If something didn’t happen soon, she was going to combust into flames. “I think so, Daddy. I need… I don’t know… I need.”
“Let’s take it higher, babygirl. Slide your hand down and put your finger inside,” he said.
“What? Noooo! I like this.” This was great. This was incredible. Nothing could be better than what she was feeling. Anything more might kill her.
“Do as Daddy says, naughty girl. Slide your finger into that wet pussy.”
His stern command had her sliding her finger lower, curving one slender digit and slipping it inside her soaking wet kitty.
The tight muscles of her sex clutched at her finger as she thrust it in and out. Each time, she deepened her movements until she found a spot that had her scream.
“Fuck, I need my cock inside that pussy of yours. That’s it. Faster, babygirl. Harder.”
She followed his directions, dancing on the edge of a cliff.
Then his fingers were back on her clit. He circled once, then pinched the bundle of nerves between his fingers, wet with her slick.
She exploded as she came. He held her as wave after wave of bliss crashed over her. It was the most intense experience of her life. As she drifted back to reality, he stroked her hair and told her how proud he was of her.
Sliding his hand back under her panties, he pulled her hand away from her sex and brought it to his lips. She stared at him as he sucked her glistening finger into his mouth and licked it clean. He was the perfect Daddy, and he was all hers.
Temporary Daddy, she reminded herself.
Her temporary Daddy. She had to remember he hadn’t been talking about forever, just until they got back to land. But he’d talked about Wyoming and his ranch. So, maybe there could be more.
She didn’t want to giggle anymore.
Luckily, Boone broke the silence. “I'm not sure where you just went in your head, Bluebell, but I’d like to find out. For now, do you see that dot on the horizon to the right? That’s our ride home, Midnight’s Mistress .”
It took a minute, but she found it. “I see it. Thank goodness,” she said. “It must be huge. The bigger, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
As soon as she said the words, she froze. Froze practically sitting on his rock hard cock. His “dear god, please don’t get any bigger” rock hard cock.
She wanted to look at him over her shoulder, but she didn’t dare. Not until she felt his body start to shake with silent laughter. At least she assumed it was silent laughter, which he confirmed seconds later as he burst out laughing. She had never heard anything so wonderful in her life. She was so caught up in the warm, resonating tone she almost missed the last of her tension evaporating.
It must have been contagious because before she knew it, she was laughing, too. She hadn’t laughed in years, not like that. Her stomach hurt, but she kept laughing. Tears coursed down her face, and she still couldn’t contain her laughter.
“I can be funny,” Boone said, “but I’ve never been that funny. You okay, Bluebell?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m better than okay. You can be very, very funny.”
Within minutes, they were pulling up behind the enormous yacht. If there was such a thing as a sleek, sexy, sinful boat, Midnight’s Mistress was it.
She twisted around to ask Boone about it when a movement just to the right of the boat caught her eye. She could have sworn something moved just under the surface of the water.
Her heart kicked the center of her chest when it happened again. Was that a fin?
It couldn’t be a fin in water this cold, right? At least she didn’t have to worry about it being a shark. Sharks didn’t bob in and out of the water. She’d watched all the Jaws movies. Shark fins stayed up once they broke through the water until just before they attacked.
“Um, Boone, I mean, Daddy?” she called out.
“Yes?” He kept his attention on the horizon.
There it went again. The fin popped up, this time attached to a curved black back, only now there were two of them. They were multiplying.
“Daddy?”
“What is it, Bluebell? What are you looking at?” His gaze followed her line of sight.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think it’s a dolphin, and there’s more than one.”
The closer they got, and the lighter the early morning sky grew, the less they looked like Flipper. They actually looked like Orca, only smaller.
Her breathing sped up, drying out her mouth. She wasn’t going to drown. She was going to be breakfast for two killer whales. Pushing off her place cradled between Boone’s thighs, she rose to her knees.
“Tildi, sit back down,” Boone yelled.
She ignored him. She needed to be on her knees to scan the water for more fins. “There!” she screamed, pointing to the water only thirty yards away from the Zodiac. Or what Tildi liked to call way, way too close. “See, Daddy? They’re over there!”
“I see them, Bluebell. They aren’t going to hurt us. Now, sit your ass down in the boat before I cut the motor and make the rest of this trip much more uncomfortable for you.”
She knew what that meant. The last thing she wanted was for him to spank her again. If she did as he said, though, she wouldn’t be able to keep track of the fins. She compromised by sitting on her heels. “What are they? Are they killer whales, Daddy? Are they sharks?”
“No, babygirl. Those are called Dall’s porpoises. They won’t hurt us, and if you watch, you might see that they are swimming alongside a?—”
He didn’t get to finish that statement.
Without warning, the most gigantic creature she had ever seen shot out of the water. It was as big as a cruise ship, maybe bigger. Spreading its fins out like wings, it bellyflopped back down, shooting water in every direction and making huge waves that rolled out in every direction.
Tildi couldn’t help it. All she could think to do was run. Screaming, she shot to her feet, but the first wave hit the side of the boat, tipping it up high. With nothing to hold on to, she stumbled backward, flailing her arms to find anything to grab hold of, but there was nothing but cold air.
She lost her footing and tumbled back. The small of her back hit the low side of the boat. Fingers of freezing water pulled at her hair and slashed across her scalp and neck. She was going to land in the water right beside the giant sea monster.
Clawing uselessly at the rubbery side of the boat, she prepared herself to meet her fate. At the last second, a band of iron clamped around her ankle and reeled her back inside the safety of the boat. It turned out to be more of a hand of iron, she decided, when her Daddy flipped her over his knee and delivered ten stinging swats to her bottom before planting her on the floor of the boat.
She’d seen him angry before, but this was the first time his fury was directed at her. “If you lift your butt off the bottom of this boat again before I tell you to, I will bust your tail so hard you’ll wince when other people sit down. Do you hear me, young lady?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, darlin’. Now we can put it behind us unless you move again. Being sorry won’t keep you from drowning. So, when I say do not move, I mean it. Do. Not. Move.”
She didn’t think it wise to move, so she settled for nodding.
Once they got back on their way and the fins had disappeared, she braved his wrath to ask, “I was running from the sea monster earlier. What kind was it, Daddy?”
He stared at her, and she wished she’d stayed quiet. He’d probably changed his mind about wanting her to go to his ranch with him. Her breath hitched at the thought. She’d been looking forward to seeing it and meeting his family.
Not that she blamed him. She was a lot of trouble. Maybe if she could just stay out of his way until they made it to Seattle, she could find a waitressing job and scrape together enough to start over.
“Whatever you’ve got going on in that brain of yours, Bluebell, just shut it down. I can tell it’s not anything good. Look at me, baby. Did you mind Daddy?”
She shook her head. “No, Daddy,” she said. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the wobble out of her voice.
“Slide over here, little one. I want you back between Daddy’s legs.”
He probably didn’t trust her to stay seated. She did as he asked, well, told her to do, and slid back to the place she’d been when the whole monster mess had started.
“That’s my good girl. I like you close. Now, did Daddy smack your bottom for not minding him?”
She squirmed on her bottom. It was still tender. “Yes, Daddy,” she said.
“Well, then it’s over. I’m not angry anymore, and you don’t have to feel guilty. That’s how consequences work. So, whatever you were thinking about what I was thinking, let me spell it out. When I said to slide over here because I wanted you between my legs, did you know what I meant?”
“Yes, Daddy. You meant what you said.”
“That’s right, I did. And I always will. I don’t play mind games with my words, babygirl. I say what I mean. You can always trust what I say to be what I mean. So, when I say that we can put something behind us, what do I mean?”
“That I don’t have to worry about it anymore?”
“There’s that fantastic mind at work. You’re right. So, whatever was going on in your head a minute ago, you should forget it. Why is that?”
The bad feelings clawing at her lost their grip and blew away in the stiff ocean breeze. Smiling, she said, “Because I can trust you to say what you mean, so I don’t have to guess.”
He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “That’s my Bluebell.”
She held his arms tight, soaking up all the warm fuzzies having them there gave her. Then it occcured to her he’d never answered her question. “Daddy, what kind of sea monster was that thing?”
The vibrations of his chuckle moved through her, sparking those tingles she seemed to get when in his arms. “That wasn’t a sea monster, Bluebell. That was a rare treat. You got a glimpse of something most people will never get to see.”
Now he had her curiosity stoked. “What was it?”
“It was a fin whale. It is the second largest mammal on the planet and very rare to see. And it was so happy to see you it jumped for joy. Not that I blame it, of course.”
That made her giggle. “That’s silly. No one would jump for joy over me.”
He stilled behind her. “And why is that?”
Uh oh. She’d said something wrong again. She wasn’t sure what, but he was unhappy with her. “Why is what, Daddy?”
“Why wouldn’t anyone jump for joy over you?”
Yep. He was definitely unhappy with her. She shrugged. Something told her there was no right answer to that question. She settled for explaining, “They never have before.”
“Well, that was on them, not you. I read about a woman who bought a fake diamond ring for thirteen dollars at a hospital pawn shop and found out a few years later that it was real. She sold it for almost eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Someone had that ring before her and gave it away for practically nothing. But that didn’t make the ring worth nothing. It made the person who had it before a fool. Anyone who can see the real value of a person would jump for joy over you.” He tipped her chin so her gaze was on him. “And, Bluebell, I am jumping for joy.”