Page 17 of Wilderness Daddy

I tear my eyes from Landon to look at Mrs. Steed.

“We can have a mud bath or massages or even facials?” She looks at her caregiver and gives her a small smile. “I hope you don’t mind my assistant, Beth, spending time with us. I don’t go anywhere without her; she’s my angel.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Steed,” I answer and reach to take her hand. “Why don’t we let Beth choose.”

“Please, call me Carmen. And I think that’s a fabulous idea. Beth works so hard to keep me happy and comfortable.” She squeezes my hand gently before the three of us head to the spa. I can’t help but look back at Landon.

This time he smiles, but it’s more than just an innocent grin, it’s flirty and when his eyes lower, mine follow.

I swallow hard, my heart dipping down to my middle.

Landon’s tapping his thick leather belt.

* * *

I can’t help it, I’mso relaxed after all the spa treatments that I’m actually laughing at Landon’s story of George’s horrible golf game. Landon’s parents are giving my parents a tour and Hattori’s with them. George, Grant, Landon, and I are alone and it’s easier than I thought it would be. Landon hasn’t once mentioned what I did to him at the lodge.

“The club seriously flew out of his hands into the pond?” I ask through a bite of my breakfast sausage.

“That’s not the best part though,” Landon continues, his eyes sparkling with mischief and my brother groans, giving himself a face-palm. “The geese in the pond start flapping their wings, honking, and take chase. And George, screaming like a ten-year-old girl, runs to the next hole with the three of them biting his ass.”

I start choking on my sausage and George pats my back. When I finally catch my breath, Landon is standing up looking at me with concern, a napkin at my chin.

“Spit it out,” he says firmly and holds the napkin up higher so I can. I do and swallow another cough. He sets the napkin on my plate and takes my chin in his hand instead.

“Are you okay?” Those green eyes drill into mine and I nod again as much as his hand will allow me. I clear my throat as his thumb caresses my jawline.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” I put my hand on his wrist to pull his palm away from my chin but the moment I touch him, electricity zaps through my middle.

He leans down close to my ear. “Little girls shouldn’t talk with their mouths full.”

I should be outraged. Hell, I would be if anyone else said it to me. After all, I’m a feminist, a strong independent adult woman! But damn it, I’m quivering with the urge to kiss him again. I’m also embarrassed and would love to hide my face in his chest. The whole restaurant is staring at me and my desire to hide like a little girl is so unlike me I wonder if he’s some sort of sorcerer.

I swallow hard, straighten my back, and ignore his whispered comment as I shove my chair back.

“Please excuse me, gentlemen. I need a moment.” I cough the graveled feel out of my throat again as I leave.

When I come out of the restroom, Landon is pacing in the small outer hall.

“You don’t have to keep me on a leash. Although my father will love that.”

He looks at me, blinking. “Pardon me?”

He looks genuinely concerned so I shake my head, grumbling, “Nothing.”

His eyes narrow and he folds his arms over his chest. His expensive golf shirt stretches across his tight thick chest and I take a slow breath, licking my lips.

He looks away, as if checking himself, and slowly pushes his hand through his gorgeous silky curls as he gathers what I sense is a patient breath. I yank my eyes away from him, clenching my jaw. The muscle of his bicep and the blue lines beneath his skin are etched into my mind, making my belly quiver.

“One of the leading causes of choking death is from people going off alone because they’re embarrassed and when they pass out from lack of oxygen no one is there to help.” His words are succinct, clipped with irritation and yet I can still see the leftover concern in his eyes.

I hate him. Anger burns in me, except if I’m honest the burn isn’t all anger, but that just makes me furious. I glare at him. Why is it this man has me questioning everything about myself?

“I was talking when I left the table, Landon. Talking means oxygen is getting in.” I raise my brows, looking pointedly at him and avoiding the rest of the words I want to tack onto the end of my sentence.

“You’re right, but I was worried anyway. I was going to bust in there if you didn’t come out soon.” He smirks and my jaw drops. He looks sheepish, boyish even, with that adorable dimple pulling at my gut as he continues charming me. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen. “I have to admit, I’m a little overprotective.”

He reaches out and tugs at my hair. “Glad I didn’t have to do the Heimlich maneuver.” Then he turns and puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me back to our table. It’s big and warm and has my nerves dancing with its touch. I want to pull away and tell him off. He’s acting like he believes some ancient idea that women are frail and need men to coddle them, but as I open my mouth I see his mother being pushed in her chair toward us. My eyes glide to the side, glancing at Landon and my shoulders relax. Of course you’re overprotective, Steed.

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