I didn’t want to like that, but I did.
“There’s more where that came from, little girl, but you’re going to have to wait because it’s time for breakfast,” he teased, and I pouted a little.
“If you’re a good girl, Daddy may just reward you with a mimosa. He remembers how much you liked them,” he added, and I smiled, blushing a little bit more heavily at his recollection. He was right. I did like them very much. I hadn’t had one in so long because he’d been the only one to mix it right.
I pressed my lips together in a tense line.
Why did everything have to come back to him?
“What are you going to cook for me?” I decided to ask, willfully ignoring the way his voice made my body pulse.
I couldn’t have this. We could never be.
“Eggs. Toast. Bacon. The usual,” he replied, his voice strangely light.
My stomach growled again as if it was answering for me. He laughed and the warmth of his body pulled away from mine. I curled the blankets around me in an effort to chase away the chill, but he grabbed them and shucked them away from me just as quickly.
His dark eyes grazed up and down my body as if he was imagining all the things that he would do with it. I stilled and my nipples hardened under his gaze, making me flush with embarrassment.
“I’ve missed you in my bed, Willow,” he murmured.
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything in response. I kept quiet and his face tightened with an edge of sadness before it flittered away into nothing. He nodded toward a closed door across the room, and I narrowed my eyes a little in confusion.
“That closet is full of clothing in your size. Feel free to wear whatever you like,” he offered. “When you’re done, the kitchen is down the stairs on the first floor. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” I replied. I smiled softly, not knowing what else to do.
He nodded once. Then he turned away and walked out of the room, leaving me to my own devices. I licked my lips and pushed myself up onto my elbows, looking around the room. It was a beautiful space, likely put together by some high-end designer. There were panoramic windows on one side of the room with sheer gray curtains offering some semblance of privacy when it wasn’t really necessary because there wasn’t anything other than the mountains around us.
Wanting a closer look, I climbed out of bed and padded over to the windows, peering out into the magnificent view that surrounded us. I noticed that there was a small town down below. By my estimation, it would likely take fifteen minutes to walk to. There was a dirt path beside the road that was well covered in many areas that it would be easy to traverse out of the eye of drivers passing by.
I chewed my lower lip, stowing that information away for later.
I turned and made my way into the closet. When I opened the door, I gasped at just how big it was. To my right side was a shelving system complete with every kind of shoe I could ever need, from flats to heels to sneakers to hiking boots. There was expensive bras and underwear laid out and that all paled when I saw just how fully stocked the rest of it was. There were dresses, long- and short-sleeve shirts, tank tops, blouses, and that was only the hanging section. There were a multitude of jeans, leggings, cotton drawstring pants, and slacks folded neatly along even more shelves. It was the kind of closet that meant a girl never needed to go shopping again.
I started moving along the rails and checking the sizes. Every single piece of clothing was my size. As if he’d bought everything in here for me in preparation for my arrival.
With a heavy swallow, I realized that he probably had. He’d been readying to take me for a long time. This closet was more proof of that than I could ever need.
The feeling of unsettlement within me deepened.
Quickly, I picked a simple black shirt and a pair of jeans. I slipped on a light pink pair of panties and a matching bra before I dressed. I slid my feet into a soft dark gray pair of quilted flats that fit like they were made for me.
Everything fit perfectly. Too perfectly.
I sighed and left the closet. I’m not sure why, but there was a small part of me that wanted some part of the outfit to not work out.
I walked down the hall and turned right before proceeding down the stairs into the open living room and kitchen area. The scent of bacon was already wafting throughout the room and my sour mood seemed to ebb for the time being. Dean was dressed in a pair of black lounge pants and a simple burgundy-colored t-shirt. The cotton fabric hugged the firm muscles of his backside and I couldn’t help myself as I took a long look.
When he made a movement to turn around, I looked away as quickly as I can, hoping he didn’t notice the way my face heated anyway.
“See something you like, little girl?” he smirked and I blushed harder.
“I’m starving,” I responded, ignoring his jab to the best of my ability.
I sat down gingerly on the stool in front of the rather large granite island and put my elbows on the edge. My backside was still slightly sore, and I did what I could to hide that it was. For a while, I just watched him cook quietly. He seemed to know what he was doing, much to my surprise. He oiled the pan before frying up a few eggs and he even kept the bacon that was cooking beside it covered with the lid to keep the grease from flying everywhere.
It was
