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We went upstairs and I unpacked our lunch while she washed up. Or tried to. Not all the paint was coming off her arms or her face. Once she got her hands clean, she joined me at the table.
“This looks delicious,” she said, eyeing the cheeseburger and fries on her plate.
We both dug into our meals with gusto and ate in silence for a few minutes. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. I enjoyed her company, and I very much hoped that she enjoyed mine. I was about to make a comment about how she needed a bath—and suggest that I help clean her—when it struck me that we still knew so very little about one another. We’d spent a great deal of time together these past few days, yet most of that time had been spent flirting, kissing, and… spanking.
I drew in a deep breath and peered into her pretty dark eyes. I ought to tell her more about myself. I ought to be honest with her. Everyone knew everyone in Rocky Springs, and it wouldn’t be long before someone mentioned to her that I was a widower. I would tell her. Soon. But first, I wanted to learn more about Gemma and her past. Like the reason she’d left Connecticut all on her own and moved about two thousand miles from home to open up a business. People didn’t just up and move away from their hometown for no good reason. Had she left because of the bad breakup with the asshole who’d called her disgusting? Or had something else happened? A hundred different scenarios rushed through my mind and my curiosity about her grew.
“So, did you have an art studio back in Connecticut?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
A shadow crossed her face, but she soon smiled. A forced smile. One that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I had a shop in Westport, where I’m from. Opened it just after I graduated from art school.” A wistful look came over her. “My grandfather bought me the building as a graduation present. He died not long after that, but he got to see the grand opening of my studio. It’s one of my favorite memories. He was always one of my biggest champions. My parents thought art school would be a waste of time and money—not that it was even their money, I took out student loans—and they kept trying to dissuade me from going. But my grandfather was always so encouraging.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather’s passing,” I said. “Sounds like you two were close.”
She nodded. “I spent more time at his house than at my parents’ growing up. I miss him. But he lived a long and happy life. He played in a local band and used to take me to his shows. And he always made sure I had plenty of painting supplies at his house, since my mother didn’t like the mess and claimed we didn’t have enough space for it.”
I was happy to learn she’d had a loving grandfather who’d helped to raise her, someone who’d encouraged her to follow her dreams, but it also saddened me to learn her parents had been dismissive and perhaps even distant. “Do you have a better relationship with your parents these days? Now that they can see for themselves that you’re successful and brilliant at what you do?”
She blushed when I said “brilliant,” though she soon appeared hesitant to answer. She avoided my gaze and swallowed hard. Finally, she lifted her eyes to mine. “Actually, I don’t really talk to my parents anymore. They don’t want much to do with me. They were angry that my grandfather spent all his money on me. When he died, he didn’t have much to pass on to my mom. She’d been counting on that money and blamed me for it. She’d had plans to retire early, along with my dad, and buy a vacation house in Maine and was pissed that she could no longer do that. I ruined their retirement plans.” She bit her lower lip and her gaze fell to the table.
“Hey,” I said in a gentle voice as I reached for her hand. I entwined my fingers with hers and squeezed. “You didn’t ruin anything. Your grandfather had every right to do what he wanted with his money, and I think he made a good choice. Besides, I bet you made his final years special. It sounds like the two of you spent a lot of time together. I’m sure he loved you very, very much.”
CHAPTER21
GEMMA
I blinked backtears and felt like a liar. Not because I’d told a fib to Daddy, but because I wasn’t telling him the full truth. It was a fact that my parents weren’t happy my grandfather had bought me the building in Westport. And it was true that the money he’d spent on me had caused a rift in our family, but the real reason I’d left Westport had little to do with my parents.
Kenny. The intimate pictures. The shame and the gossip. I’d fled my hometown because of my hateful ex and the embarrassment he’d caused me. How could I remain in a town where almost everyone looked at me as though I were a whore, a pervert, stupid, or all of the above? Thank God he hadn’t told anyone (that I knew of) about my interest in the daddy dom/little girl lifestyle. He’d called me disgusting in private, but in public, he’d only shared the nude pictures of me. Small mercies, I suppose.
“Are you okay?” Daddy asked, a concerned gleam in his eyes. “I’m sorry I brought up a painful memory for you. That wasn’t my intention. I simply wished to understand you better. This might sound corny, but in some ways I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, Gemma, but in other ways, you’re a stranger to me.” The comforting smile he shot me was like a warm hug.
“I’m okay.” I sighed, wishing I could tell him everything. But what if he rejected me? What if he judged me the way so many others had? I didn’t know if I would be able to withstand Daddy’s condemnation. I was really starting to like him, starting to believe that we might be able to enjoy a long-term relationship.
It was bad enough that Kenny had my number. Bad enough that he’d called me this morning. I was still reeling from the shock of hearing his voice on the phone, and it unnerved me that he thought I owed him money. Especially when thus far, I’d only received about six thousand of the fifty thousand he’d been ordered to pay me.
I stared across the table at Daddy, feeling vulnerable and worried. He hadn’t been in my life for very long, but I didn’t want to lose him. He’d been so kind to me so far, and he’d allowed me to safely start exploring my little side with him.
But I wasn’t the only one with secrets. He still hadn’t told me about his late wife. Was he ever planning to tell me? Or was it a private pain he wished to hold close to his heart forever?
“I’m glad I met you, Gemma,” he said, holding my hand tighter. His eyes beamed with so much affection, my throat started to burn. “You’re a remarkable woman and a sweet little girl. You’re brave, too. Pardon my language, but it takes serious balls to move across the country and start over like you’re doing. I’m proud of you.”
Despite the emotion constricting my throat, I had the abrupt urge to dance around the kitchen. Proud. Daddy was proud of me. And it wasn’t the first time he’d told me that either.
“Thanks for saying that, Daddy. I-I hope I can make a real home for myself here in Rocky Springs. I did a lot of research when I was trying to decide where to move, and, well, I kept coming back to this town. Beyond the low cost of living and the growing tourism industry, I just had a feeling.” It was true. I’d had a feeling. The first time I’d glimpsed photos of the town and the surrounding countryside, the beautiful snow-capped mountains and the gorgeous wildflowers that grew in springtime and early summer, I’d known this was the place for me.
“I have a feeling you’ll be making a permanent home here.” He drew in a long breath. “And maybe one day we’ll even make a home together.” He paled a bit after he said this, and his eyes widened too, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just said. I couldn’t quite believe it either. Holy crap on a saltine cracker.
I didn’t know what to say.
Daddy released my hand and looked extremely uncomfortable. Flustered. Embarrassed, even. Wanting to reassure him that I wasn’t rejecting him, I stood up and walked around the table to him. Then I crawled right into his lap and laced my arms around his neck. I pressed a kiss to his forehead the way he always did for me, and when I pulled back, I was delighted to see a smile tugging at his lips.
“I would be lying if I said I haven’t been imagining what it might be like if we lived together, Daddy. I had the balls to move away from my hometown and start over, but I guess I didn’t have the balls to tell you that until just now.” I giggled at the shocked look that crossed his face. “Pardon my language,” I added. “So, what I’m trying to say is, don’t be embarrassed by what you just said, Daddy, because I’m thinking the same thing. I’m also thinking, ‘holy crap, things are moving really fast and oh my gosh what if we are making a mistake?’ but other than that we’re on the same page.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pressed a firm kiss to my lips. Heat pulsed in my core, and I shifted on his lap until I felt the hard bulge of his erection beneath me. Oh yes. Daddy was getting excited. My breath hitched as a sexy growl rumbled from his throat.
Was it weird that we’d talked about moving in together before we’d even had sex? I wasn’t certain, but I was certain about one thing: I really wanted Daddy to spend the night tonight. I wanted us to do grown-up things. My pulse spiked at the thought of us finally joining our bodies as one. Would Daddy be gentle or rough in the bedroom? I really wanted to find out.
He studied my face before looking at my paint-covered arms. “Baby girl, you’re in dire need of a bath, don’t you think?”
