Jessica's Cowboy Daddy - Melinda Barron Page 0,15

hands on her shoulders. He kissed her forehead and said, “Why don’t you go change.”

She knew what that meant, and she was more than happy to follow his order. She went to the bedroom without bothering to unpack the groceries. It took her seconds to strip out of her clothes and put on a pair of baby-doll pajamas that she kept for Little days. She was rather surprised he didn’t want to talk about Monday night, how she’d basically lied to him. It wasn’t like Sir to let things like that slide. Which meant she needed to be on the lookout for a discussion about the situation.

But not tonight. He never did things like that on a Little night. She left her hair down and padded, barefoot, into the living room. Hawk sat on the sofa, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table, a heaping plate of pizza centered on his thighs.

“There’s pepperoni pizza, breadsticks, and a chocolate chip cookie. But no cookie for you until after dinner, understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She hurried to the kitchen where she helped herself to food, then filled a glass with ice and soda. She took her dinner to the living room and sat down next to Hawk. “Do you need anything, Daddy?”

“Not now,” he said. He was working through the pile of food on his plate. She’d always said the man had the appetite of an elephant, but he never seemed to gain an ounce.

He took a drink from his soda. “How are things on the cake front?”

“All nine done,” she said. “We’re meeting at four at the bakery, just after it closes.”

“Good job, sweet pea.” Jessica took a bite from her pizza and focused on the TV. He had old cartoons on, where the roadrunner ran from the coyote. Sometimes she thought he enjoyed watching cartoons as much as she did, although she knew he did it for their Daddy/Little time. Or maybe he did. The cartoon ended just as Jessica finished a slice of pizza.

“You want to talk about Monday?” His voice was deep, and she could tell he was trying to hold in his emotions.

“Not particularly,” she said.

“Then let me phrase it a different way. I want to talk about Monday.”

“I thought we didn’t talk about sex during Little time.” She was pushing it, she knew. She should have faced the situation head on; instead, she was putting it off.

“This isn’t about the sex, and you know it.”

“The sex was pretty great,” she said.

He sighed so heavily she wondered if there was any air left in his lungs.

“I’m talking about you lying to me.”

“I didn’t lie!”

“What’s the old saying, omission is still a lie?” He was looking at her now. She couldn’t quite read his expression. He was angry, true, but there was also concern on his face.

“You don’t think I hurt her, do you?”

“No.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “But the Texas Rangers might. I understand her son is an ass, and he’s pushing the idea you had something to do with her disappearance.”

So much for keeping her pizza down. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“One thing at a time,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me she came to visit you? And threatened you?”

“Because I thought I could handle it,” she said. “I didn’t take the ring, so I didn’t think there was anything to worry about. Naïve of me, true, but I did what I had to do.”

He continued to stare at her, and she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

“Do you remember when we officially started our relationship, not the one night let’s fuck and have a good time start, but when we sat down and talked it out, our public relationship, and the one we kept behind closed doors?”

“Of course I do.” Jessica knew where this was going, and she wasn’t happy about it, because he was right. She should have told him about Mrs. Dobbs’ visit. But she didn’t want to admit she’d been wrong.

“What did we say?”

“That you’re in charge,” she said. “But this was…” She couldn’t say this was about work, because it wasn’t. This was about her personal life, and she’d given him responsibility over it. She should have called him the minute Mrs. Dobbs left. Instead she’d kept it to herself. “You’re blaming me for something I couldn’t keep from happening.”

“Wrong,” he said. “I’m not blaming you for her visit. I’m upset about what came after. You agreed to let me care for you, to be your