Page 25 of Layla

She couldn’t get that question out of her mind. It only got louder, too, as she shifted, causing her diaper to rustle beneath the covers.

“Good morning, cutie. How did you sleep?”

She sat up to see Kirk, wearing only his gray sweat shorts and a grin, standing before the bed. The hard lines and crevices of his abs looked oh so yummy.

“Good, thank you.”

“I’m glad. I made breakfast. Bacon, eggs, and biscuits.”

“Hey,” she said, sliding from the bed. “I’m supposed to cook for you.”

He chuckled. “I know my way around a kitchen. I grew up on a ranch, remember? Ma did most of the cookin’, sure, but there were plenty of times I had to rustle up some grub for me and all the hands.” He scratched his square jaw as he thought it over. “Of course, most of that was prepared over a campfire, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I can work a stove.”

He reeled her in for a hug and kiss. Once he’d pulled his lips away, he snaked his hand down her bare back and too the padding of her diaper. He squeezed it.

“You’re wet but it can hold more. Use it again, baby, and I’ll change you after we eat.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

And there I go again. I just can’t stop myself!

She was relieved when Kirk didn’t mention it. If he was bothered by her sudden adoption of that term, he didn’t show it.

He might as well put a bib on me and just spoon-feed me my breakfast!

Even though the silent remark had been thought sarcastically, she was struck by how much she didn’t hate the idea.

Didn’t hate it at all.

What was going on?

After breakfast, when she was changed, dressed, and ready for the day, Kirk said, “I’m going to do a bit of patrolling with the sheriff this morning. I won’t be gone long.”

“Is anything wrong?” she said, unable to keep the fear from her voice.

“Nah,” he said. “You know me—I’ve been hunting all my life and can read sign and track with the best of ‘em. Wyatt just wants me to take a gander around and see if I can find any evidence left by that thief.”

Layla wasn’t so sure it had been just a thief they’d seen last night, and she didn’t think Kirk was, either. She didn’t press the issue, though. He seemed calm and collected, but she couldn’t tell if that was simply for her benefit or if he really wasn’t concerned. Either way, she trusted him. He would keep her safe.

“You want to see if any of the other women want to get together?” he asked. “I’d hate for you to be lonely this morning.”

“I can handle a few hours by myself. Besides, I need to finish getting the kitchen all set up. I promised my husband to bake bread and I intend to make good on that.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, your husband likes the sound of that!”

She sat down on the bed and reached for her phone on the nightstand. “Oh great.”

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“I have a few messages from Courtney.”

“Bad messages?”

She rolled her eyes, sighed, then read one aloud. “Layla, we really need to talk about all this. Call me!” She tossed her phone behind her, but it landed safely on the mattress with a little bounce. “Why can’t she just accept our lifestyle and be happy for us?”

“I’m sorry, Layla,” Kirk said. “Maybe you need to tell her you need some space for a bit.”

Layla nodded. She hated distancing herself from her best friend in the whole world, but perhaps Kirk was right. Just for a while. She was scared of them growing apart, though. Of course, if Courtney continued to pick at her about Brennan County and their lifestyle, they’d grow apart anyway. Maybe distance would save the friendship. It was enough to make her want to cry, so she decided to focus her thoughts on finishing in the kitchen and getting some bread going.

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