Jessica's Cowboy Daddy - Melinda Barron Page 0,16

Daddy Dom. To make sure you were safe, and sound. That woman threatened you, and you kept it to yourself. How can I keep you safe if you don’t tell me what’s happening?”

Jessica stared at the slice of pizza that was still on her plate. It had looked so good earlier, but now her stomach churned. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I am, too,” he said. He got up and took his plate to the kitchen. Seconds later she heard the rattle of car keys. She jumped up from the sofa and raced after him.

“You’re leaving?” She still had her plate in her hand.

“I left something in the truck. I’ll be right back.” He crossed the room and kissed her on the forehead. “I would never abandon you. You should know that.”

She should know it, but thinking that wasn’t something that came easily to her. She put her plate next to his on the kitchen counter. His was empty. Hers was not. When he came back inside she stared at what he carried.

“A composition book,” she said. She sighed heavily. She wasn’t much on writing lines.

“Use this as a journal,” he said as he handed it to her. “Something tells me you have issues you don’t want to share with me, but things you need to think through. Write them down in here and work through them that way.”

“You mean so you can read them later?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. A diary was a very private thing—because even if it was called a journal it was basically a diary—and if he wanted to be able to read it, that didn’t set well with her.

“This is for your eyes only,” he said. “I won’t read it, but I want to know you’re using it. All I ask is if writing every day helps you discover something, like why you would keep something from me, you would ask to discuss it with me.”

“Thank you.” That reminded her Hawk was the most loving, generous man she’d ever known. She could trust him, and that thrilled her to no end.

“Good. Now I want to eat more before the pizza gets colder.” He refilled his plate and went back to the living room.

Jessica ran her hand over the cover of the composition book. It was purple, her favorite color. It made her smile that he knew that. She took it into her bedroom, then came back to the kitchen, added a slice of pizza and a few breadsticks to her plate, then went into the living room.

“We need some ranch dressing for these breadsticks,” she said after she took a bite of one.

“You know where it is,” he said. She went back to the kitchen, filled a bowl with the dressing, then sat down next to him. She picked up a breadstick and had just started to dunk it when he pulled it away from her and dunked his own.

“Hey!” She reached for the bowl but he held it out of her reach.

“Mine,” he said.

“Share!” She reached for it again, and couldn’t help but giggle when he held it out of her reach.

“Say please.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Jessica laughed.

“Please, Daddy, may I have the dressing?”

“Wow, that was as weak as last week’s tea.”

She was tempted to crawl over his lap and grab the bowl, but that would probably end in a mess of ranch dressing on the floor. It was obvious what he wanted, but she didn’t like to beg, even in Daddy/Little time.

But she could be bratty.

“Give it to me now.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said. “I. Want. The. Dressing.”

“Do you?” He leaned over and put the bowl on the end table. “Then go and get it.”

She had pushed him too far, she could tell. There was an edge to his voice that told her this would end in a spanking, but not one that would end in good sex. Damn it. She had two choices. She could spring herself across his lap and grab the bowl, or could get up and go around the coffee table. There were good and bad reasons to follow one way or the other, and she wasn’t exactly sure where to go.

So she took the bull by the horns and launched herself over his lap, even though he had a plate full of pizza and breadsticks on his lap. She heard the plate crack as she landed, and she winced. Her knee landed on his thigh as she