Forever Daddy (Sweet Texas Love Book 2)

by Shanna Handel

  “I think you’d better call me ‘Daddy,’ for the remainder of our trip. Seems like we need to clear up who’s in charge. This should help,” he said, landing a smack on her rear.

  “Please, Daddy, don’t spank me on the beach.”

  “Sassy on the beach means spanked on the beach.” Wes looked from left to right. “Not a soul in sight, little girl, and you know I’m not one to delay a punishment.” Whack, the second smack landed on her bathing suit covered bottom. Carrie started to squirm.

  “Stay still now or you’ll get your bathing suit in a bunch.” Wes flipped the swim skirt up, exposing Carrie’s bottom covered in the little, white bikini bottoms. Whack, whack, two more hard smacks came down, one on each cheek. The sounds of the spanks landing on Carrie’s wet, spandex covered skin were quite satisfying, and the exposed skin was turning a beautiful shade of pink.

  “Please, Wes, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Wes now started to alternate cheeks, keeping up a steady volley of smacks.

  “Oh, please, I will be so good, all of my naughtiness went away.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She looked so helpless over his leg with her little-ruffled swim skirt flipped up and what was showing of her bottom, reddened against the white fabric. And he didn’t want to risk anyone showing up on the beach and seeing what was only his to see. Flipping her over and helping her up, Wes said, “All right, little girl. Think you can be good now?”

  Nodding her head, Carrie said, “Yes, Daddy,” quietly.

  “Okay, let’s get back to swimming.” His kissed her on the head and watched her as she skipped off into the water, her braids swinging behind her and her pink bottom peeking out underneath her skirt when she bent over to pick up and admire a shell. Wes shook his head, smiling to himself. Damn, he loved that woman.

  After swimming, Wes dried Carrie off and dressed her for dinner. The dress he had picked out complimented her beauty perfectly. It was a rose colored, knee length flowy dress that had just enough sleeve to be modest, but show off her tanned shoulders. Golden ringlets hung down around her pretty face, flushed from their fun day in the sun.

  The evening was lovely and a cool breeze blew as they made their way to the restaurant, Wes holding Carrie’s hand the entire way. The food was fresh and perfectly seasoned. Wes did get Carrie a margarita as big as her face, but when he saw she was getting tipsy three-quarters of the way through, he moved the drink over to his side of the table. The action caused Carrie to begin to protest, but Wes was delighted to find that one raise of his brow was enough warning to rein her in.

  Once the last bits of carnitas and scoops of guacamole disappeared, Wes paid the check, leaving a generous tip for the hardworking staff. His bride to be returned from the restroom and almost tripped over her strappy sandals.

  “Oops,” she said, laughing. “It was the shoes.”

  “I think it was the margarita.” Wes held her arm and helped her out of the door of the restaurant, where she almost tripped for the second time.

  “Right then,” Wes said, and swiftly scooped up the drunken girl in his arms.

  Giggling like only a girl who has a low tolerance for tequila can, Carrie wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her back to the cabana.

  The soft rays of the morning sun glittered in Carrie’s golden hair. Wes watched as she slept, running his hand over the white cotton, baby doll style, short nightgown with a pink ribbon running through the top, tied into a little pink bow. The combination of her hair and the gown made Carrie look like an angel. Wes knew that his style was a little more covered up than Carrie would have liked, but each piece that he had picked was so pretty and had a simple innocence to it. Knowing that Carrie would be sleeping for a few more hours, exhausted from the swimming and the sun yesterday, Wes quietly snuck out the door to run his errand.

  Returning to the cabana, Wes saw that Carrie was awake and changing into the skimpy purple bikini that was covered in silver sparkles. She must have been digging through the suitcases looking for a more revealing suit and found the purple one and the black one hidden in the bottom.

  Turning and seeing Wes eyeing her, Carrie said, “There is no way I am returning to the ranch without a full body tan as a souvenir from my trip.”

  Wes’ eyes hungrily took in the sight of her in the tiny swimsuit, trying to tie the flimsy material around her neck. Without a word, he cleared the floor and pinned her to the bed.

  “Nice suit,” he growled into her ear.

  “Thanks,” she said, as his teeth made a tiny nibbling path to her ear. “I’m wearing it out on the boat today when we go fishing so I can get a better tan.”

  The nibbling stopped. Pressing his hands into the bed, Wes rose from her.

  “No, you are not, Carrie.”

  “Why not? I can’t show up back at the ranch fresh from Mexico looking like a ghost.”

  Wes sat on the bed beside her and Carrie sat up next to him. “Carrie, it’s going to be almost all men on the boat with us. That bikini is inappropriate.”

  Carrie pouted, tugging at the dangling purple strings of her suit. “But it’s so sparkly.”

  “I brought you an outfit to wear.” Wes stood up and rummaged through the big suitcase until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a pair of white shorts and a pink polo shirt.

  Carrie wrinkled up her nose at the sight of the outfit. “I’m not wearing that.”

  “Okay, how about a dress? Or, maybe a tank top?” He pulled a baby blue sleeveless top out of the suitcase.

  “That’s not a tank top. A tank top has spaghetti straps. I don’t even know what that is called. Was it your grandma’s?” Carrie teased.

  Wes cocked his head at her. “Careful, young lady. You are treading on dangerous ground. Keep it up and you’ll be wearing a poncho.”

  Groaning, Carrie flung herself back down on the bed. “Please tell me you did not actually bring me a poncho.”

  Rummaging around again, Wes held up a yellow, plastic poncho that he had in fact bought for the trip. “What if it rains?”

  “Oh my gosh. I can get wet. I won’t melt.”

  Carrie stood up and sashayed over to him in her suit. “Don’t you want to see me fishing in this?” She did a little twirl to give him the full effect and he loved every minute of it. He just wasn’t going to share the view with anyone else.

  “Of course, I do, baby. As will every other man on that boat.” He stopped her mid twirl and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. “It’s just not going to happen, sweetie.”

  Carrie gave a little stomp with her foot. Instantly, Wes had her over the edge of the bed, pinned on her tummy. Carrie was betrayed by the little suit when in a matter of seconds, with two tugs, Wes had the side strings untied from her hips and the suit slid to the ground, leaving her back completely bare, save the string across the middle holding her top on.

  Wes spanked her bared bottom. “Damnit,” he heard her breathe to herself, as he did.

  Pausing the spanking, Wes brought his face down to her ear. “What was that?”

  “Nothing, Daddy. I was just saying I’d like to wear the tankini if you don’t mind.”

  Wes stood back up and thought over the idea. “I could allow the tankini.” Carrie gave a sigh of relief, then a gasp of surprise when the spanking continued. Wes applied methodical, deliberate spanks right to the tops of her thighs, and then her sit spots. “But I think you are going to want to wear those shorts over it.”

  When he allowed her to stand, Carrie looked over her shoulder and inspected her punished bottom. The skin was reddened in any place that would be covered by the shorts, but not by a bathing suit bottom.

  “Get dressed, love. It’s time to go.” Wes gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, tossed her the white shorts, and was out the door.

  “Damnit again,” Carrie whispered, tugging the shorts on.

  “What was that, baby?” Wes called from the front door, l
ooking in and watching her struggle to dress.

  “Nothing, just finding my top, wait, there it is.” Carrie pulled on the sailor top and Wes chuckled as he watched her double check the outfit in the mirror to be sure no signs of her spanking showed.

  “It’s cute,” Carrie shrugged in surprise. Turning away from the mirror, she met Wes at the front door.

  Carrie looked like a cherished little girl, instead of the sexy, woman that the purple bikini brought out in her. He loved both versions of his woman. “You look beautiful,” he said, kissing her, “like my little girl.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she replied shyly.

  “Time for sunscreen,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “You are absolutely sabotaging my tan, Daddy.”

  “Do we need to go back in the bedroom for a repeat of earlier?”

  Sighing, Carrie held her arms out to the sides and let Wes rub the coconut scented cream over every inch of her exposed skin. When covering her back, he lifted the straps of her tankini top from her skin to be sure the lotion was applied evenly underneath.

  “Not one inch of my baby girl is going to be burnt.”

  “Except for my bottom,” she murmured.

  “That’s right, if you keep up your naughtiness, baby, I will happily burn your bottom. Now let’s get going.” He gave her a slap on the seat of her pants and with a jump, she headed out to the Jeep Wes had rented for the week. Wes buckled Carrie in with a kiss and headed in the direction of the marina.

  The boat glided over the aquamarine water. Looking around at the rest of the passengers, Carrie saw how out of place her bikini would have been. Everyone was dressed in shorts and tee shirts. Carrie whispered to Wes that the already pink face of one of the vacationers made her glad to have had Wes apply the sunscreen on her after all. Then, she said, “Daddy’s always right.” Wes wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tightly.

  One of the group members on the boat had caught an enormous grouper and had it filleted into generous pieces for all to share. On the way back to the cabana, Wes had picked up limes, chilies and soy sauce to make a marinade, as well as fresh tortillas and local beer. After soaking the fish in marinade, Wes grilled it, bone in, until the meat was flaking by the touch of a fork. He carefully checked over the bits of fish for stray bones, much to Carrie’s hungry chagrin. Wes served her chips and guacamole he had picked up from the restaurant while he continued his pain staking search. “No baby girl of mine is going to get hurt by a meal I cook her,” he told her sternly when she complained.

  When everything was to his liking, Wes served the fish up on tortillas, topped with fresh Pico de Gallo, and a beer with a lime wedge in it, for each of them. They ate outside, enjoying the cool evening breeze, and the sound of the waves lapping up on the shore.

  Carrie could not stop complimenting Wes’ cooking. She and Mama were the ones in charge of the kitchen at the ranch, and that was how they liked it. Wes had never hidden the fact that his Mama had taught him his way around the kitchen, but he was so busy with the ranch, he rarely had time to prepare a meal. When they had finished every bite, Wes reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a tiny, white box. Smiling, he handed the package to Carrie.

  “For me?” she asked, surprised. Wes only nodded in response.

  Carrie lifted the lid and gave a little gasp of surprise. On soft cotton lay the tiniest gold charm. A beautiful little horse, rearing up on its hind legs. She pulled it from the box and the short, gold necklace dangled from the tiny mustang. “May,” she whispered, looking up at Wes. “How’d you find this? It’s perfect.” She held the necklace out to Wes and he knew she wanted him to put it on for her.

  Wes rose from his chair and came behind her. “I snuck out this morning while you were sleeping off your margarita.” Gently, he brought the unclasped necklace around from the front and connected the clasp. The mustang rested just below Carrie’s collar bone. The necklace was a perfect fit and complimented her beauty.

  Placing a kiss on the top of her head, then returning to his seat, Wes said, “I knew it had to be a gold horse. It sounds silly but I couldn’t stand the thought of another man buying you jewelry, even if it was in fifth grade, even if it was only for one week. I was looking for something special, but didn’t know I would have such luck and find a tiny replica of Mabel for you.”

  “It really is perfect, Wes. Thank you.” Carrie turned the miniature horse back and forth with her fingertips, admiring the glint of the metal under the slivers of moonlight.

  “I want you to remember you’re my good little girl when you wear it. Now go put on that black bikini. I want to swim with my sexy goddess of a woman.

  The stars were dotting the inky blue sky, the moon shone huge and low above the lapping water. Carrie quickly changed into the skimpy swimsuit that was barely more than a few small triangles of fabric, she looked stunning. The little horse pendant dangled around her neck and brought a smile to Wes’ face.

  Wes already in his suit pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid movement. Noticing Carrie appraising his bare chest in the moonlight, Wes quickly approached her and flung her up into his arms. Carrie giggled as he carried her into the warm waters of the sea. Her womanly curves were accentuated by the tight black scraps of fabric she called a bathing suit, and she looked sexy as hell. The tiny horse twinkled around her neck. He remembered the joy that shone on her face when she had opened the necklace. He thought his heart might burst at that moment with gratitude for the precious lady that he carried in his arms. Carrie truly was his strong woman and his good little girl.

  Chapter 5

  Returning from the week of pampering and daddy love was hard. Seeing Mama waiting on the porch for their arrival, visiting Evan, and her students’ shining faces, helped Carrie to make the transition back to the real world. The horse pendant hung around her neck every day, having never been removed, even once, since it had been put on.

  Enjoying a quiet meal with Wes and Mama, Carrie complimented Mama’s home-cooking. Mama had taken over almost all the household chores since school had started, and Carrie was grateful. As she, Wes and Mama caught their breath and chatted about their days, a knock on the door surprised them all.

  “I’ll get it,” Carrie hopped up from her seat. As she stood, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin to be sure she didn’t have sauce on her face, then went to the foyer. Carrie’s smile dropped from her face as she opened the door. “Hell,” Carrie said and her greeting ended abruptly.

  On the front porch, stood Garrett. His white Hollywood smile gleaming as always, his shock of dark hair gelled back to look effortless, his black leather jacket hugging his shoulders.

  “Well, hell, to you too,” he said with a wink. “May I come in?”

  Carrie wanted to say, “No, jackass, you may not,” but the shock of seeing his face left her speechless. Garrett pushed past her and entered the kitchen. Still standing in the foyer, with the door hanging open, Carrie heard Mama’s gasp of surprise and Wes’ shocked silence.

  Exasperated, Carrie threw down the fitted sheet that she was trying to fold. “I don’t care what Martha Stewart says, no real human can do this. It’s impossible!” Sighing and picking the sheet back up from the ground, Carrie opted for crumpling it up into a ball and stuffing it into the linen closet. Slamming the door shut, Carrie quickly regretted treating any part of her house so roughly. Wes had put thought and love into every aspect of their new home. “Sorry,” Carrie said, patting the linen closet door gently. “You are a wonderful cupboard; I’m just feeling a bit out of sorts.”

  Garrett showing up at the ranch house had thrown everyone off, upsetting the peace of their daily routine. Mama was cranky, which Carrie had never experienced before, Wes was quieter than usual, and Jessica had stopped making her daily visits.

  The only good thing to come from Garrett’s arrival was that Wes finally let Carrie move into the bunkhouse with him, though he had wanted to wait until they were married.
Wes’ exact words were, “I don’t want you sleeping in the same state as that scoundrel, much less the same house.” And so, Wes had called the renovations, done, and quickly moved Carrie into the bunkhouse with him.

  The bunkhouse, renamed the ‘love nest,’ by Carrie, was everything she could have hoped for. Wes had taken the historic building that originally housed the ranch hands, and turned it into a beautiful home, with clean, modern lines, while keeping the integrity and charm of the original structure.

  In front, the long porch that went the length of the house had been sanded and stained. The front door was painted a beautiful robin’s egg blue that Carrie had picked out herself. The windows had all been replaced with new ones. Her little kitchen had modern appliances that were made to look retro. Wooden cabinets had been hung, and butcher block countertops installed. The living room was cozy with the original stone fireplace as the centerpiece, boasting huge windows that stood on either side showing the beautiful rolling hills of the ranch.

  Carrie’s favorite room, by far, was the master bedroom. Originally the caretaker’s bedroom, it too had a large, stone fireplace that Wes had brought back to working condition. The big four poster bed was covered in crisp white linens. Wes had installed a modern bathroom, with a claw foot iron tub, just for Carrie. He knew how she loved a good bath. There was a shower for daily use, a stone lined open concept one, that was the perfect size for two.

  The closet was huge with cubbies for her many, many pairs of shoes. The dresses from her honeymoon hung beautifully, front and center, on padded hangers. And, hanging from a red satin ribbon, tucked away from the sight of guests but within easy reach of her husband, was Carrie’s Christmas paddle. She eyed it curiously every morning, but they had not yet been properly introduced.

  Carrie had happily been spending her days avoiding Garrett at the ranch house, and unpacking and situating the love nest until it was just right. This had involved several shopping sprees to the mall, for ‘a few new things.’ The first two trips she had gotten away with, but when she arrived home from the third, Wes had been waiting for her on a kitchen stool. Butterflies filled her tummy as she guiltily set down her many packages.