Page 14 of Mountain Man Daddy

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“Hey,” Avery said sleepily as she walked out of the bedroom. His brow quirked and she held up her hands. “Just up for the bathroom—” She paused, before adding, “Daddy.” He nodded, and she thought she saw a small twitch in the corner of his mouth. He liked when she called him Daddy and that made her blood pound, because she liked it too. His eyes went to her legs, and she tugged the shirt a little lower, although she didn’t know why. The way he made her pulse for him, she’d gladly take the shirt right off.

He grunted and turned back to his cutting board.

In the small bathroom, she examined herself in the vanity mirror. Blinking at her reflection, she wondered what the big handsome man in the kitchen thought of her. Could he see anything beyond the woman he thought was a ‘little girl’? Did he think she was pretty? She snarled at herself. How stupid. She didn’t care what any man thought of her. Men were the reason everything was screwed up in the first place. She spun and opened the door, peeking at Mike. He didn’t seem to want anything from her. He’d only helped her, somewhat begrudgingly too. She smiled as she watched him chopping carrots. He looked huge next to the small fridge, and his large hand practically swallowed the knife he held. No, Mike did want something. He wanted to spank her for every careless thing she did. A smile widened on her face and she felt the need to fan herself.

Mike turned, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “What are you smiling about?”

“Hmm?” She cocked her head to the side, watching him. “Would you believe me if I said it was an old joke that just popped in my head?”

“Nope.” He shook his head slowly.

“Okay, how about if I said it was watching your huge hands struggle with that dinky knife?” He narrowed his eyes a fraction and scrutinized her face. He took a few steps closer, ran his hand over his beard and shook his head again.

“Uh-uh.” He crossed his arms. “I think you’re smiling because the way I control things intrigues you.”

“Maybe,” she admitted with a half shrug.

“But it isn’t some kinky little game you think you might be into, is it?”

Although that sounded fun to her too, he was right, that wasn’t the only thing that appealed to her about it. She paused and swallowed as her mouth suddenly watered.

“You like the idea of being taken care of like that—of giving up the control you’ve always held fast to.” He paused, narrowing his eyes to read her. “Not held onto by choice, but necessity.”

She rolled her eyes to hide the fact that he’d hit the nail on the head, but her knees trembled. How could he know?

“You think you’re a shrink or something?” she asked and he only chuckled and tossed the towel on the counter.

“You’re more transparent that you think, little girl.” He leaned back against the cupboards and smoothed his beard with his right hand while propping his left casually on his hip. His still narrowed eyes looked her over.

“You’re completely intrigued by the way I live and find a certain appeal in it. You don’t have much use for people either. You’ve been on your own for a while, and I know you’re running from something.” He scooped the towel back up, folded it, and hung it on the cupboard handle. “I have some experience in behavioral analysis.”

Her stomach tightened but this time from fear. How much longer before he figured her out completely? She had to get away.

“You can keep thinking whatever you want,” she said dismissively and walked gingerly to the couch and sat.

“Nuh-uh,” he said and pointed back to the bedroom. “Back you go, little one.”

“Seriously?God!I’ve been in bed for days! I’m fine! I just want a shower and to feel like a human instead of an invalid for a little while. I’m fine!” He crossed those thick arms, and her stand weakened. “Please. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Go shower, but don’t get your sutures wet. After, you can come lie on the couch while I finish cooking.” He pressed his lips together a moment before adding, “And you’re not leaving tomorrow. You lost a lot of blood and until I’m one-hundred percent convinced you’refine, you’re not going anywhere.” He picked up the wooden spoon that he’d set out for the stew and smacked it against his palm.

“As much as I like my peace, you’re not well enough, and the storm hasn’t passed. And when I think you’re ready, I’ll take you to town. Until then you’re stuck here—with me.” He looked down at the smacking spoon. “And my spanking threats.”

“You’re terribly controlling, you know.” She huffed, crossing her arms and kicking the coffee table.

“Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes dilated, all of which means you like it,you know.”

He turned back to his pot and she growled.

“Little girl, your temper tantrum is making my palm itch. And you do not need a sore bottom on top of everything else, now do you?”

“Fine!” She got up. “Where are the towels in this grand hotel?”

He didn’t look back at her, only pointed the spoon to a closet beside the bathroom.

“Hot water is limited, and the pressure is low. Be quick.”

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