Page 4 of Not Your Shoe Size

Ty didn’t get daddy going mainstream, but then he was twenty years older than her. Blowjobs were still considered a spicy sex act when he was growing up. Besides, he was too much of a daddy to comprehend his own daddiness. Like an eclipse, he couldn’t see the action, hewasthe action. Kate liked the daddy trend, even though sometimes it felt like strangers were wearing her favourite outfit. A jolt shocked her out of her thoughts. She’d absently caressed the line of her public bone and the skin sizzled with electricity. She took her hand away, opening her eyes to the darkness. Which daddy would Ty be tonight?

Sometimes he was sadistic, spanking her ass raw and forcing himself into her throat. Sometimes he was sleazy, sliding into her sheets reeking of whiskey and begging for relief his fake wife wouldn’t give him. Sometimes he was mischievous, teasing her about her ‘developing’ body and cajoling her into taking her top off. She’d intended to fantasise about the possibilities, but tiredness soon clapped its mask over her brain. Soon her anticipatory thoughts of Ty drifted into the eccentric flicks of dreams—her sister Lindsey offering her wedding cake, a sea of wet black dance floors, a band made up of seashell men...

A loud bang had Kate jerking upward. She clutched her chest, taken aback by the pink of her sheets until she remembered where she was. Remembered the game she was playing. She could hear Ty pacing the kitchen. Her daddy was home, and from the sounds of things, he was angry. She curled under her sheets as though they could protect her, her heart pounding against her curled-up palms. Loud footsteps banged up the hall and the bedroom door swung open.

“Katie?” Ty’s voice was clipped as a newspaper cutting. “You get up right now, young lady.”

And just like that, Kate knew exactly what kind of daddy she was getting—impatient, workaholic, ‘fed up with your bullshit’ daddy. As close to a real father/daughter relationship dynamic as she and Ty got. At least shethoughtit was close to a real father/daughter dynamic. Her own father had spent most of her life ignoring her. In fairness, so had her mum and nine brothers and sisters. Kate sat up straight, rubbing a sleepy fist into her eyes. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”

Kate didn’t have to fake the quiver in her voice, her pulse was leaping in her throat. Ty was silhouetted by the hallway light—tall and broad, his hair glowing like a gold halo. He was her Australian Adonis. The daddy to all other daddies. He put his briefcase on the floor with a thunk.

“You were out with that boy, weren’t you?” Ty’s snarled, daring her to lie.

Kate licked her dry lips, as frightened as if it was true. “We’re just friends, Daddy.”

Ty strode to the side of the bed and flicked on her unicorn lamp. It brightened, filling the room with rosy light. “Look at me.”

She did what she was told. Their gazes met and the anger in Ty’s face made her close her eyes. Stern and handsome, Tyler Henderson projected male capability with a weight akin to gravity. He was a Man. Capital letter required. If he was unattractive, Kate was sure people would still be drawn to him, but with his denim blue eyes and superhero jaw, he looked like the gods had manifested the most conventional interpretation of white guy beauty. Kate had never imagined someone so physically perfect could be hers. People turned to stare at him in the street.

Ty’s hand gripped her jaw. “You open your eyes right now, young lady.”

Her eyes flew open. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. You’ve been a bad little girl.”

Kate shook her head. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You did. How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t be friends with boys?”

The bitterness in Ty’s voice was Oscar-worthy. Anyone would have thought shehadbeen with a boy instead of work then bed. Kate pouted as much as she felt she could get away with. Unlike Ty, she never felt entirely natural in these scenes and leaned heavily on pouting and closing her eyes. But she never struggled for what to say. She had that down to an art. “Other girls can be friends with boys. Other girls can date.”

Ty’s upper lip curled.“Date?”

“It wasn’t a real date. Just a coffee.”

“I swear to God, Katie...”

“Please don’t be mad at me, Daddy.” She said it automatically, hoping to offset his temper. She wanted him to kiss her. To be nice to her.

Ty blew out a frustrated sigh. “You’re growing up, aren’t you, baby?”

“I don’t mean to.”

He sighed again and sat at the edge of her bed. Kate shivered beneath her persona’s sheets. She loved all Ty’s daddy personas, but this might be her favourite—exasperated, full of self-loathing, prone to anger and sweetness in quick succession.

He rubbed a thumb across Kate’s cheek, and she inhaled, smelling Giorgio Armani cologne, whiskey, and a trace of end-of-day sweat. She adored that smell. Maybe that was real love too, craving the smell of someone’s sweat.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said, needing to say it.

Ty’s handsome features tightened. “I love you too, baby. But you’re still small. I need to keep you safe.”

Beneath the covers, Kate’s nipples pricked. She folded her arm across them. “I’m not that small. I want to be like other girls.”

Ty gave her a hard look. “You haven’t been with any boys, have you?”

Kate made herself look away. “I…”

Ty’s hand tightened on her chin, turning her to face him. “Katie?”

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