Page 252 of Cowboy Daddies

Actually, that wasn’t that bad.

Who knew?

Jeb was surprised by how relaxed he felt.

There were always a million things that needed doing on the ranch. Normally, his mind was always on his to-do list.

But it felt quiet in his brain today.

And it was because of her. Because of how she made him feel.

He tried to tell himself that he’d feel this way with any other Little. But he had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t.

Casey was somehow worming her way under his skin and into his heart. Which wasn’t a good thing.

She was leaving. She didn’t want to be tied down to a rancher ten years older than her with a son. A son who he had to protect from hurt. He didn’t want Wyatt to think that anyone came before him.

“Are you all right, Daddy?” she asked as she glanced up from her picture.

“Ahh, yeah. I guess.” Part of him wanted to run. To tell her that something had come up and he needed to go.

However, that wasn’t fair to her. This was her first time letting her Little out like this. And he wouldn’t ruin this experience for her.

This was his issue.

He was the one developing feelings when he knew that he shouldn’t. All he had to do was get himself under control.

She ate the last piece of cucumber while studying him. “You’re sure you’re all right? You look like my oldest brother, Brendan, after he’s eaten too much curry. If you know what I mean.”

Jeb thought he did. And that wasn’t a flattering comparison.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “Did you have enough to eat?”

“Uh-huh. It was actually pretty good. If a bit lacking in sweetness.”

Jeb decided to ignore that criticism as he put everything on the tray and then set it down by the door. He’d take it down later when he got lunch.

But right now . . .

Moving over to where she sat, he crossed his arms. “Right, little girl. Time for your punishment.”

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” she grumbled as she took the hand he held out to her.

“It’s been less than an hour since we last talked about it,” he said as he led her toward the bed.

“Yeah, but you could be getting forgetful in your old age,” she told him.

“Old age? I’m thirty-five, you brat.”

He sat on the bed and tugged her between his legs, tickling her under the arms and down her sides.

Giggling, she twisted around trying to get away from him.

“Stop! Stop! You’re not old! You’re young and gorgeous.”

“That’s better,” he said, stopping. “But you’re the gorgeous one.”

Staring at her flushed, smiling face, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his hand around the back of her head and drawing her in for a kiss.