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“Ah. I see now.” She could certainly relate to being different. To not belonging.
“Anyway, Hanna, if people in town find out I’m harboring a young girl who just left the Amish community, it might mean trouble for us. They might think I’m taking advantage of you and keeping you here against your will. I don’t want any do-gooders nosing around in our business.”
“How will we go to town then?” Her spirits plummeted. Would he make her wait in his truck? Or worse yet, tell her he’d changed his mind?
“When we visit town, we’ll pretend you’re my daughter.”
“You want me to call you Daat?”
“No, notDaat. No Amish words.DadorDaddywill do just fine. I’m pushing forty, so I am old enough to be your father.” His brown eyes darkened further as he stared at her.
“Yah. I’ll call you Daddy when we go to town.”
“Not yah. Yes. Say ‘yes, Daddy.’”
Her face heated and the aching between her thighs pulsed hotter. She inhaled a deep, calming breath, even as her heart raced, and her face became flushed. She squirmed in her seat and finally murmured, “Yes, Daddy,” as she held Mr. Foster’s dark, intense gaze.
CHAPTER4
Lingering awkwardlyoutside a women’s dressing room, Ben waited as Hanna tried on outfit after outfit. The selection had overwhelmed her, so he’d picked out a few dresses, most of them modest in style. From what he could see of her as she’d modeled the form-fitting clothes, she’d had a beautiful, curvy body hidden underneath those plain dresses.
To fight his impending hard-on, he’d fled the dressing room area on the premise of finding her at least one pair of pants and some t-shirts.
As he fumbled through a stack of jeans, he realized she probably needed underthings too. Christ. He groaned inwardly. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Ever since she’d arrived at his house a week ago, he’d been one giant walking erection.
“Can I help you find something, sir?”
His head shot up at the sound of a woman’s voice. A sales associate. Thank God. He stood up, glancing over his shoulder at the dressing room. “Yes, um, my daughter’s getting a whole new wardrobe for college. She might need help picking out… underthings.” Covering his mouth, he coughed uncomfortably. “You know. Panties. Bras.”
The woman, a plump redhead with a saccharine smile, raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to be psychic to read her thoughts. She obviously found it strange that a woman old enough to go to college was out shopping for bras and panties with her dad. Cringing, his mind raced for an explanation to offer the woman.
He came up empty.
“Is that her underwear size?”
Ben held a pair of jeans in his hands, the same size as the dresses. “Yes. Think so.”
“What about bra size, sir?”
“Huh?”
“What’s her bra size?”
“Not sure. Maybe you could bring a few sizes for her to try out?”
“Of course. I’ll be back shortly.” She disappeared to the other end of the store where panties and bras hung on racks.
Ben gave himself a mental shake before calling for Hanna outside the dressing room. She appeared in front of the mirrors, head inclined as she approached him.
A long, flower-patterned purple dress clung to her bosom and waist, flowing out from her hips to graze her ankles. And she definitely, most definitely, wasn’t wearing a bra. A hint of her nipples showed like tiny peaks through the fabric. Jesus fucking Christ. His jeans suddenly became uncomfortably tight.
“Wear that one to lunch.” The words escaped his mouth before he could think.
An hour later, he carried several bags to his truck that were filled with dresses, jeans, a few shirts, shoes, pajamas, and unmentionables. After locking up his truck, they ventured back inside the mall to a walk-in hair salon. The hairdresser suggested Hanna donate some of her long, beautiful locks to cancer patients, and Hanna readily agreed.
When it was all said and done, she’d lost fourteen inches of hair, but it was still rather long and swept over her shoulders in shining waves.
