Page 8 of Daddy's Dirty Girl: Bred by My Daddy 4

Peter laughed. “Well, how was school? Did you see anyone you knew?”

“Yeah. I talked to was a guy I met back when I started. Nathan. Or, Nate, I mean. He lost a bunch of weight, cleaned himself up, that sort of thing. It made me feel a little strange, actually.”

“Why?”

“Seeing someone I knew before, I guess. Nate’s a nice guy – he really is. He was so sweet. He asked me to get some coffee, told me I didn’t have to explain anything to him, but I got so nervous. I’m getting all upset. I don’t even know why.”

Peter crossed the room, smiled and pushed a length of hair that fell down in my face back behind my ear.

“Everything is okay, Liz. A lot has happened. You gotta give yourself time to readjust to things. Y’know?”

“But no, I mean I’m happy. I’ve never been this happy. With you, with Davis, with everything. I just don’t know why I got so upset when Nate started talking to me. I guess I felt like... if I wanted to have a friend that I needed to explain my – our – family.”

He nodded and sat on the chair’s arm, pulling me to his chest and smoothing my hair with one of his soft, powerful hands.

“Liz,” he said, “you know you don’t have to explain anything to anyone, unless you want to. I’m not going to say that I haven’t been thinking about this lately, though. Eventually we’re gonna go crazy unless we both get out of the house sometimes. Know what I mean?”

All I did was sniff and nod.

“It’s okay,” he repeated, “don’t worry. This is why it’s better to make friends with a guy than a girl. Guys don’t expect you spill your guts, he probably just wants to get a beer.” He smoothed my hair again, and I let myself relax against his chest. Ever so slightly, he started to rock me back and forth.

We sat there, me in my daddy’s arms, safe there, comfortable there. I kept letting my thoughts drift back to Nate, back to school. I knew what Peter was right, but slowly, the pieces started to fall into place inside my brain.

I am the one that wanted to talk to Nate, not the other way around. Every time he spoke, I wanted to interrupt him and talk and talk and talk. And then I wanted to talk some more, take a breath and keep talking. It’s been so long since I’ve really been around anyone else that I think I’ve forgotten how. At least, I think that’s what’s happening.

“Oh Liz,” I said inside my head, “just relax. Remember that hubcap? The one that told you to just go with the flow? It was right.”

I wanted to scream in frustration, more at myself than anything or anyone else. Why could I not just let myself be okay? “It’s just stress,” I told myself. “Everything will be fine. Everything is fine.”

And then my daddy kissed me and picked me up, effortlessly, in his arms.

“I’ve got to finish dinner, but where do you want me to put you? Anywhere you want. Bath? Bed?”

That did it. Out came the water works.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong! I can’t calm down. This whole day I’ve been on the verge of tears. I almost broke down when you were watching me out the window this morning. Then I was about to start up when I was talking to Nate, and I just feel like a mess!”

“Shh, shh... You’re fine,” he said, bending his head to kiss me. “Really! Just give yourself time. Do you trust me, Liz?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Then trust me when I say nothing is wrong. You’ve had a hell of a couple days – getting ready for college again, going back

to school, and then it all got topped off talking to someone from a time that seems a lot farther back than it actually is. How about you go play with the baby and put on your robe and I’ll finish dinner. Afterwards, I’ll do something I haven’t done in a while.”

Another sniffle and I blinked away a couple of tears. “What are you – wait a minute, you’re right. I do trust you. Okay. Alright, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Thank you so much, I couldn’t live without you.”

“Me too, baby girl,” he whispered and kissed me again, “me, too.”

Chapter Five

After all the plates were clean and the baby was in bed, my daddy led me to the bedroom, and playfully tossed me on top of the pile of blankets and pillows.

The first thing I noticed was how hard his fingers felt as they drove against the knots between my neck and shoulder. I rolled my head back and forth, trying to help my daddy unkink all the tightness, relax all the stress. He uncapped a little flask and dribbled softly scented oil into his hand, rubbed his palms together and then warmed my neck with his touch.

“Rose oil,” he said when I sniffed. “Supposed to be really nice for stress. After the day you had, I think that’s probably what you need.”

I approximated a chuckle by blowing a puff of air out of my nose and turned my head so that my face hung off the bed. He squeezed for a moment longer, and then rolled his knuckles along my shoulder blade and a little under.

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