“Would you like me to announce to everyone explaining that we are not fucking... yet.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Nope, that won’t be necessary.” The slight concern made her lip quiver. Where was that confident woman from a few minutes ago? The struggle between her big and little played across her face.
“I promise, it will be okay.” I gave her a reassuring squeeze.
She nodded slightly.
It was a short walk to the diner in the middle of the casino floor. Our hands swung between us. I wanted people to see us together. It would spread fast through the staff if it hadn’t already made the rounds from us being together in Quad IV last night. I didn’t care. We didn’t have ano-fraternizingpolicy at the casino.
My phone beeped, and I checked it. It was a photo of Kylie and me from one of the security cameras. Not text, just thephoto. I opened the messaging app on my phone and typed out a quick message.
Patrick: Fuck off Randall!
CHAPTER 28
KYLIE
“Mabel!” She usually worked nights, and it was almost nine-thirty.
“Hey, Ms. Kylie.” Mabel sauntered over and squeezed my arm. “It’s good to see you. Hey Patrick, sweetie. How are you?”
“I’m good, Mabel.” Patrick grinned. “How are you? How are your grandsons?”
Mabel lit up, launching into a five-minute story about Michael and Davis. Their blond hair was turning ash blond, much to the chagrin of her daughter-in-law, and she was scheduled to visit them in Seattle in a few days for two whole weeks. That’s why she was picking up a couple of double shifts. When she was done, she pointed at me and said, “I know what she wants.” She touched Patrick’s arm. “What can I get you?”
“A ham and cheddar omelet with fruit on the side.”
Mabel and I caught each other’s gaze and giggled. “So boring.”
“We can’t all live off pancakes and whipped cream.” He tugged my hair. I pushed his hand away.
“Every once in a while, it’s okay.” I placed my napkin on my lap and rested my hands on the countertop.
“Coming right up.” Mabel made her rounds around the circular diner countertop. With a coffeepot in one hand, she wiped down the shiny Formica table with a rag she held in the other.
Mabel didn’t meet strangers, and every patron of the diner she treated like family.
“Did you know she had twin grandchildren?” Kylie looked at me.
“They’re five years old, born in Los Angeles. She’s not fond of the daughter-in-law but is making more of an effort because the woman gave birth to two seven-pound babies after twenty-one hours of labor.” Patrick gave a curt nod.
“Wow.” My fingers tapped the counter. Patrick grabbed my hand, placed it on his thigh and covered it with his own. It calmed me instantly. “Those employee files must be massive.”
“I didn’t learn all that from a background check,” He shrugged. “I just asked. But Mabel probably knows more about what’s going on in this building than I do. Even about you. You said she doesn’t know you’re a little, but I bet she does.”
I glanced down at my clothes. Nothing about them gave me away. I looked adorable, but no different from any other twenty-something in Las Vegas.
Thinking about it, though, the way she spoke to me differed slightly from how she spoke to other patrons.
“So, tell me about your little.” The question made me feel vulnerable. I turned to face him. I wanted to get closer to him, but the barstools were bolted to the floor. He rested his arm on the back of my chair. I leaned back for contact. “How old is she?”
I looked around at the other patrons. He grasped my chin and brought my face back to him.
“No one’s paying us any attention. It’s just you and me.” He kissed my forehead and released my chin. “Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” My voice was still not above a whisper, but I felt safe to tell him about myself. “She’s sixish. I’ve tried playing younger, but it wasn’t really my thing. And, I’m a good girl.” I smiled shyly. “Mostly.”
“And what happens when you’re not being a good girl?” He gripped my shoulder. “What does Little Kylie do to act out?”
