Page 45 of Tame Me Daddy

Only the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes betrayed him—a private joke between us. Sir meant something very different when we were alone.

After assignments, the group dispersed. I headed toward the equipment shed with Maya, but Grant's voice stopped me.

"Morgan, a word."

Maya shot me a knowing look before continuing on. I turned back, keeping a respectable distance between us.

"Yes, Mr. Warwick?"

His mouth twitched. "Remember to check the southwest corner. That section's been troublesome."

"Will do."

He lowered his voice. "You sleep okay?"

The concern in his eyes made my chest tight. Last night had been rough—nightmares about my family finding out about us, about me. I'd woken up crying, and he'd held me until I calmed down.

"Better by the end," I said, matching his quiet tone. "Thank you."

His fingers twitched at his side, and I knew he wanted to touch me. Instead, he nodded. "My office for your report when you get back."

"Yes, sir."

There it was again—that slight darkening of his eyes at the word.

Maya and I rode out to check fences, the Texas sky stretching endless above us. The work was hard but satisfying—spotting weak sections, making repairs where we could, tracking our progress. Maya chatted about her family back home, about the new foal expected next month, about everything and nothing.

It was nice being with Maya, because I could chat about Grant, too. Let her now how things were going between the two of us. Obviously, I didn’t go into detail about our dynamic, but even so, it was good to feel a little free.

By afternoon, we'd finished our assigned section and headed back to the ranch. I delivered my report to Grant's office, professional and thorough. Only when the door closed behind me did his expression soften.

"How was it out there?" he asked, coming around the desk.

"Hot. Dusty. Perfect."

His smile reached his eyes. "Free tonight?"

"For you? Always."

His fingers finally found mine, the touch electric after a day of distance. "My place. Seven. I'll cook."

I squeezed his hand. "I'll bring dessert."

Back in my room, I showered off the day's grime and changed into clean clothes. My space had transformed over the past weeks. What once was bare now held touches of my full self—a small shelf where Hoppy, my plush bunny, sat proudly next to the wooden horse Grant had carved for me. A colorful throw blanket across my bed. A framed photo of me on horseback.

No more hiding these pieces of myself, at least in private. No more shame about the little girl who sometimes needed nurturing alongside the woman who could mend fences and train skittish horses.

I sat on my bed, running my fingers over Hoppy's soft ear. Grant had been so careful with me, so patient. Learning what I needed without judgment. Creating space for all sides of me to breathe. The first time I'd slipped into my little space with him—terrified, vulnerable—he'd simply smiled and asked what my bunny's name was. Then he'd read me stories until I fell asleep against his chest.

My phone chimed with a text. I expected Grant but saw my sister's name instead.

Amber: Just checking in. Hope you're still doing well.

My throat tightened. Amber was the only one from my family who still spoke to me after I'd come out to them about being a Little. The only one who hadn't looked at me with disgust.

I typed back: Never better. The ranch is amazing. I think I've finally found my place.

I hesitated, then added a photo I'd taken yesterday—me with Starlight, both of us looking content in the late afternoon light. Nothing that would reveal my relationship with Grant or my little side, but a genuine glimpse of my new life.

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