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He loosened a breath, his broad shoulders slumping. She still watched him warily, like she was waiting for something to happen. He let himself take her in again, his heart rate skyrocketing.
She looked fucking adorable in her little outfit—her pink skirt and purple top, her bright yellow shoes. She had an otter-shaped bag slung across her body, and a stack of colorful, glittery bracelets up one arm. He searched her again, and his brows dipped.
“Where’s Ottie?” he asked. “I thought you’d bring him.” She blinked, looking startled.
“I didn’t want to forget him.” She toed the grass as she shrugged. “He might’ve gotten dirty or something.”
“I wouldn’t have let you forget him,” he murmured. “And I could clean him if he had.” She looked up at him beneath her lashes.
“Really?”
“Of course.” He nodded firmly. He knew that little otter was her lifeline, so he’d assumed she’d bring him with her. He kind of wished she had. “Have you had breakfast already?” She scrunched her nose.
“I was too nervous to eat.” He nodded again, having figured as much.
“Me too,” he admitted. Glancing over her head, he saw the diner he knew was there. “Want to go to that diner? We can grab a bite and talk.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him.
“My brother knows where I am,” she blurted. “He has my location.” He blinked at her.
“That’s good,” he said slowly. “Very safe of you to give him that information. Did you tell him who I was? Give him my name and photo?”
He knew she was about to lie to him.
“Of course,” she scoffed. “I’m not a dummy.”
“Never said you were,” he muttered, sliding his hands into his pockets. Even if she’d wanted a Daddy, they hadn’t fully agreed to anything, including punishments. He couldn’t take her over his knee for lying.
Yet.
But one day, he would.
“I can talk to him if you’d like,” Jett offered. “Send him a photo of my I.D.?”
“What?” Her eyes widened again. “No. No way.”
“Whyno way?”
“He would immediately hunt you down and skin you alive,” she hissed. “And I like your skin right where it is, thank you.” His lips twitched at the words.
“He’s that dangerous, huh?” He folded his arms over his chest, and her gaze ate him alive.
Maybe he didn’t scare her after all. Not with the way she was looking at him.
“He’s super dangerous. Uh-huh. Head of the mafia. Of the cartel mafia.” She eyed him. “So, if you do any funny business, my brother and his cartel-mafia-FBI buddies will hunt you down.”
“Damn.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. “Cartel-mafia-FBI? That’s who your brother is?”
“Yep.” She folded her arms over her chest, mimicking his pose, as she nodded, looking ridiculously proud of herself. “Don’t you forget that.”
“I won’t,” he said, trying to hold in a laugh. “You’re safe with me.”
“I have a gun, too,” she blurted, and his smile fell.
“What?” He gaped at her.
“Yep. I do. Right here.” She patted the otter bag. “And a knife. A butcher one.”
He didn’t know if she was serious or not. “Let’s just keep those things safely in the bag, alright, pretty girl? Don’t want to scare anyone.”
