Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Unable to trust himself, he took a step back, crossing his arms in case his hands took a mind of their own and decided to smack her curvy bottom.
“Well, I kind of thought that’s what the whole screening process that the Haven Agency put us both through was for. If you weren’t a decent person, they wouldn’t have sent me. Particularly since the position requires me to stay in your home with you. That should mean you’re safe.” With eyes as wide open and guilty as any Little he’d ever seen, she nibbled her bottom lip and waited for his reaction.
As if he had the right to react. His conscience had an annoying habit of tapping him on the shoulder, reminding him she wasn’t his. Grady ignored her comment and focused on the heart of the matter. “Speaking of safety, don’t you think I might have a reason for the curfew I gave you?”
Sage scowled. “It was only a few minutes, Dad… I mean, boss.”
Never in his life had he wanted to spank someone so badly. Either that or kiss her senseless. Not to mention the other things he wanted to do to her just as much.
Sage was supposed to live in his house for the next three months.
Three. Fucking. Months.
He was never going to survive.
Chapter Four
On the other side of a scarred wooden table in the Broken Bridle Saloon, Sage’s friend Fiera Sharpe sat, smiling. Sage returned the smile, practically bouncing in her seat while trying very hard to look like a professional homeschool nanny. Now was not the time to look like a Little who was two seconds away from vibrating out of her seat with excitement.
You are a grownup, Sage. A professional. Stop swinging your feet under the table like a five-year-old who needs to potty.
Fiera tilted her head, her curls bouncing as she moved. “I still can’t believe you’re actually living out at Stone Creek Ranch. With Grady Kane. Girl, the stories I’ve heard about that man.”
Sage felt her cheeks heat. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought the same thing a hundred thousand times. Never had she been so thankful to be two full rooms, and two closed doors away from the man fueling her every fantasy. Lord help her, that cowboy was smokin’ hot macho on a stick, all broad shoulders, thick thighs, and that slow, dangerous grin that screamed Daddy in dusty boots. One look and her tummy was doing backflips.
Sometimes she thought he was flirting, maybe even willing to give her the discipline she craved. Sadly nothing had happened. Except for her interactions with his daughter, she was just there.
Still, she couldn’t very well say that to Fiera, so she pasted on a small smile and shrugged. “They’re probably all true. He’s… intense.”
Fiera laughed. “Intense is one word for it. That man is six-foot-four of pure brooding cowboy. But tell me the truth—has he given you the look yet? The one that makes your knees go weak and your bottom start tingling even though you haven’t done anything wrong?”
Has he ever!
Sage’s lady bits clenched. “N-no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She cleared her throat. Her voice was a little too formal for Fiera to buy this.
The reality was that she’d committed every one of those looks to memory. Honestly, she didn’t know how she was going to make it through the entire summer. Leave it to her to be attracted to someone who wouldn’t give her the time of day, much less a swat on the ass. How was she ever going to find a Daddy to love her if she couldn’t even find one who liked her?
Fiera grinned at her, tapping her finger on the table.
Sage gave herself a mental shake. Get a grip, woman! Her love life was not the most important thing this summer. She was making great progress with Rose. She really loved that kid, and that was what she needed to focus on, not finding a Daddy of her own, right?
Fiera was now leaning back in her chair, fanning herself with a napkin as if she was recovering from a swoon. See, that was exactly what she didn’t need.
It would be much easier not to focus on things like that if her friends didn’t keep texting her and asking her questions about him. Or, like Fiera was doing now, teasing her about her hot new Daddy boss. Sage buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Fiera! Stop! I’m trying to be professional here.”
Fiera sat up straight, apparently recovered… but she still winked and said, “Too late. Your face is the color of my strawberry lemonade.”
Sage peeked through her fingers. “He’s my boss. And Rose’s father. I am not supposed to be thinking about whether he’s a Daddy. Much less trying to make him my Daddy. That is completely inappropriate, not professional at all.”