Chapter 19 Bitsy #3
"Let's find you a coat," Wyatt said, steering the cart toward the outerwear racks.
He sorted through a few jackets, holding them up briefly before setting them aside, focused on finding the right fit.
He finally selected a beautiful, sage-green wool coat that featured a thick layer of white faux fur around the brim of the hood.
Stepping close, he zipped her into the jacket himself, gently tucking her chin over the collar to ensure she was bundled up tight.
"Perfect. Keep that on. You're going to need these, too.
" He reached over to grab a matching cream knit beanie topped with a thick yarn pom-pom, tossing it along with a pair of insulating gloves straight into the cart.
By the time they reached the checkout counter, the cart was entirely full.
Bitsy stood quietly as the cashier began scanning the items. As the machine beeped, the digital screen flashing the final total, the numbers climbing higher and higher until her heart began to race in pure panic.
It was a staggering amount of money for a single shopping trip.
Her eyes went wide, her breath catching as she looked at Wyatt.
Wyatt didn't even blink. His expression remained entirely neutral as he pulled a sleek black credit card from his wallet, sliding it into the reader without a second thought. He efficiently began loading the bags back into the cart, guiding a stunned, trembling Bitsy back out to the parking lot.
As they loaded the bags into the back of the SUV, the sheer weight of his generosity finally broke through her defenses.
"Thank you," she choked out, leaning against the side of the vehicle as the cold air hit her face.
"Thank you for everything, sir. It's just...
it's too much. I don't deserve this. I'm broken, Wyatt.
I'm pathetic, and I'm just a charity case you took in—"
"Bitsy."
The tone was sudden, sharp, and dropping into a dark, terrifyingly firm Daddy register that made her instantly freeze. Wyatt stepped into her space, his massive frame completely blocking out the rest of the parking lot, his eyes burning down into hers with fierce, unyielding discipline.
"Speaking poorly of yourself will not be tolerated under my care," Wyatt commanded, his voice vibrating with a dangerous weight.
"You are not broken, you are not pathetic, and you are damn sure not a charity case.
You are my little girl. If I ever hear those words cross your lips again, I will put you over my knee and give your bottom a spanking that will make this afternoon look like a gentle warning. Do you understand me?"
The memory of his heavy palm hitting her bare skin flashed through her mind, an immediate, scorching heat blooming across her cheeks.
Her mouth parted, her breath caught in her throat as her body reacted to the absolute certainty of his threat.
"Y-yes, sir," she whispered, her voice entirely pliant, completely submitting to the boundary he had just slammed into place.
"Good," he rumbled, his expression softening into something deeply protective as he opened her door. "Being a Daddy means getting to spoil my little girl. Now climb in."
When they pulled into the secure residential garage of her high-rise building, Wyatt gathered every single bag and bin, refusing to let her carry anything but her new plush octopus. They rode the private elevator up to her floor in a quiet, warm bubble of safety.
Inside the pristine apartment, Wyatt systematically helped her unpack.
He placed her hygiene products in the master bathroom, set her jasmine candle on the nightstand, and helped her organize her duffel bags.
He stayed entirely focused on ensuring she felt settled, his presence a calm, steady force that made the unfamiliar space feel like a sanctuary.
"Go put your new pajamas on," he instructed gently, pointing toward the bathroom.
Bitsy nodded quickly, retreating to the bathroom and sliding into the thick, ice-blue cotton pajamas. When she stepped back out into the bedroom, her wobbly legs were completely spent, the exhaustion of the day finally collapsing over her.
Wyatt was standing by the bed, having already peeled back the plush, navy comforter. He guided her into the center of the mattress, waiting until she sank into the thick pillows before pulling the blankets all the way up to her chin.
He walked over to the dresser, grabbed her teddy bear, and walked back to the bed. He tucked the bear securely under her left arm, then nestled the brand-new purple and teal octopus snugly under her right.
Bitsy clutched both of them tightly against her chest, looking up at him through her thick lashes, her eyes wide, glassy, and entirely safe.
Wyatt leaned down, his massive frame shadowing her as he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss right to the center of her forehead.
"Good night, little girl," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble.
"I will be outside your door tomorrow morning at eight-thirty sharp to drive you to work.
If you have a nightmare, if you're scared, or if you need me for any reason at all, you take the private elevator straight to the top. My door is never locked for you."
"Good night, sir," she whispered, her fingers sinking into the soft fabric of her plush toys.
Wyatt gave her one last, deeply loving look before turning off the bedside lamp, leaving the room illuminated only by the soft city lights filtering through the glass. The heavy bedroom door clicked shut with finality, leaving Bitsy wrapped in a warmth she didn't have to fight for anymore.