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He was making rules and he’d even frowned when I told him about spending too much money on my pretty dress. They were both very Daddy things to do even if he was a sweet one and didn’t say I should be punished for not staying within my budget.
He’d even said I wouldn’t get goodies if I was theatrical.
Tate knew me too well.
And he seemed to know I was overthinking everything because he kept peeking over his menu and smiling like he thought I was being silly and cute.
At least I wasn’t annoying him?
“Has anything else caught your eye or are you going to get chicken strips?” It felt almost like a date question until he grinned like he was being silly. “They have lots of sauces for dipping.”
Oh, that was another Daddy thing too.
“Yes, I still want the chicken strips.” The restaurant seemed to do fancier homemade versions of things that might be just fun and prepacked anywhere else. They had fancy mac-n-cheese and a special spaghetti that looked like it would’ve come out of a can.
Tate found the best restaurant ever.
And they had cookies just like he said… that came with milk to dunk them in.
“But I can’t pick a sauce.” There were hundreds and hundreds of options. Well, at least ten and that was too many. “I don’t think I need all of them.”
Maybe I did?
It was hard to tell.
Tate gave a very Daddy chuckle as he set his menu down on the table and looked extra thoughtful. “Ranch and barbecue. You’re going to say you want honey mustard but you won’t eat it.”
Daddy Tate was magic.
As I gaped at his mindreading powers, he looked very pleased with himself. “You are very chatty on chicken nugget days.”
Oh.
I could feel my face scrunching up as he shook his head. “And no, listening to you and paying attention is not cheating.”
Darn it.
That did not help my scowl, but he just raised one eyebrow. “Do theatrical boys get cookies?”
Shoot. I forgot.
“I was just surprised at how good your memory is.” And mine was good too because I remembered to look innocent and not call him Daddy Tate.
He made another soft laugh and leaned back in the booth, studying me. “Can I ask you some questions about being Little?”
“Sure.” He’d already been nice about it and said my dress must look very pretty, so I didn’t think he’d ask anything mean.
But just thinking about Little stuff had me wanting to squirm, so I shoved my hands under my thighs to help me remember to sit still.
Something about Daddy Tate made it really hard to stay big.
“I have to admit that I’ve never been in a relationship like…” He waved a hand like he’d lost the word… or maybe didn’t want to offend me. “Like this, but I was doing some research and I think I understand the basic idea of what you’d be looking for… a Daddy?”
Since it sounded like a question, I nodded and tried to be helpful. “Yes, it’s kind of like a Dom but nicer and with different rules.”
Daddy Tate chuckled again. “I’ve never been that either.”
Did that mean he wouldn’t know how to give good spankings?
