Cowboy Daddies_Two Western Romances

by Amelia Smarts

  What kind of a promise was that?

  “What if I want you to?” she tossed over her shoulder as she shimmied out of her jeans. His only response was a low growl and a sharp spank. She inhaled at the smack of his palm, and he traced his handprint around the edge of her panties.

  “I like seeing my mark on you,” he murmured, thoughtfully but in a way that made her tummy flutter. “Wanna make you mine, Daisy.”

  Oh, God. She wanted that. She needed that.

  He reached down and helped her step out of her jeans, stabilizing her so she didn’t wobble, then he gently led her to bed and tucked the bedclothes over her. “I’ll get you something to eat, and you rest, okay?”

  She nodded miserably. “Yes, Daddy.” But ten minutes later, when he came in to check on her with the soup she requested, she was pretending to be fast asleep. He had to believe she was tired, and that he had to leave her alone. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then tucked the blankets in around her.

  “Sleep well, honey,” he whispered. “I’ll leave you be now.”

  She waited until his footsteps died before she leapt out of bed, locked the door, and dressed for her audition. She’d sneak out of the house and leave her door locked behind her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t check in on her again until she got back, but if he did, and he found the door locked, he’d assume that she needed some privacy.

  Daisy wanted to shake herself. He was the sweetest, kindest man she’d ever known, and he made her feel so different when she was with him, as if a part of her came to life under his gentle ministrations.

  This would all be behind her soon. And then she’d be his good girl. But for now, she had a job to do.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was awfully quiet upstairs. Poor little girl. He’d planned such a nice evening for her, too.

  The past week had been the best time of his entire life, and he hadn’t done much to court the little girl he’d come to care about. She was funny and sweet, witty and kind, and so damn adorable he wanted to put her in his pocket and keep her there forever. He’d gotten her flowers which she hadn’t even seen yet, waiting downstairs in a vase on the dining room table. The plan was to take her to dinner, to wine and dine her and thank her for all the hard work she’d put in, cooking for him and serving him. The girl needed a night off.

  And for her to get sick like that!

  The memory of her shimmying out of her jeans and climbing under her covers had him shifting on his feet down in the kitchen, while he unloaded the dishwasher. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to be climbing under those sheets with her. After the dishes were put away, he swept the floors, one of the messiest jobs in a ranch house kitchen. The winds blew everything into the kitchen, and the floors needed to be swept all day long. But he wanted to help ease some of her chores. Next, he went to the laundry room that was adjacent to the kitchen, and turned the laundry over, putting the wet clothes into the dryer, and tidying up a bit. At least now she had a bit less to do when she felt better.

  He stood at the foot of the stairs and listened. It’d been an hour since he checked on her, and it was so quiet he could only assume she was still sleeping. Poor thing! Maybe she needed something.

  He walked as quietly up the stairs as he could until he reached her room, and he gently tapped on the door. No response. He tried again. Still no response. As quietly as he could, he tried to open the door, but to his shock, he found it locked.

  Locked?

  He frowned. That was a bit out of the ordinary. Why would someone who was sick get out of bed with the express purpose of locking the door? It made no sense.

  “Daisy?” he called. Still no response. He had to make sure she was okay.

  “Daisy?” Louder this time. Now, he began to grow worried. Had she passed out? What if she had a fever and he hadn’t realized it? His heartbeat raced as he knocked louder on the door, with still no response.

  Down in the kitchen was a set of keys. He raced down the stairs and grabbed the keyring that hung on the wall, then took the stairs two at a time on his way back to her room. The keys jangled in his hand as he fumbled at the lock, his breath coming in gasps from the exertion. He knew he was likely overreacting, but in the short time they’d been together, he’d grown to care for her, and he fancied himself her protector. What if she’d been truly ill, and he’d somehow missed the signs? And Abby’d trusted him to look out for her, too. Finally, he found the right key, turned the lock, and pushed the door open.

  Her bed had a lump on it. Poor little thing. She’d fallen asleep, and he’d just practically broken the door down. He tiptoed over to the bed, just needing to check on her to satisfy his own fears, but when he drew close to the bed, his worried eyes hardened and his jaw set in a firm line. Nothing but blankets and pillows were stuffed under her quilt.

  Daisy had left. She’d pulled the wool over his eyes, lied to him, and left.

  When he got his hands on that little girl, she wouldn’t sit for a goddamned week.

  But where had she gone? Her window was still shut tight, and thank God for that. The thought of her exiting out her window scared the hell out of him. So she’d snuck downstairs, somehow gotten past him, and left? How had she gone anywhere? He peered out the window and saw his truck still sat where he’d parked it, but Abby and Clay’s little sedan was gone.

  He swore under his breath. What had gotten into her? He thought they’d made progress, the two of them.

  No, more than that. He’d thought they were falling in love. Every single day, his heart soared at the thought of coming home to her, and nothing pleased him more than seeing her pretty little face waiting for him at the door. Deep inside, he knew they were suited for each other. She needed his strong, protective love, and he needed her sweet, trusting affection. They thrived with one another. And he knew it wasn’t just idealistic hopes and dreams, but a real connection the two of them had. How could she betray him like this? What dark secret did she harbor that made her need to deceive him? He’d find out, even if that meant a good, sobering session over his knee to draw the truth from her. But first, he had to find her.

  Pocketing the keys, he went downstairs. He’d take his truck, and ask around town. Maybe someone would have an idea, and he’d be able to go from there.

  He drove into town, scanning everywhere he could for the sweet blonde curls, but he saw none. Just outside of the Pizza Palace, however, he saw a familiar face. With a frown, he pulled up outside the pizza place teeming with teens.

  “Malcolm!” Shane shouted the name through the window of his truck, and the boy, who looked suitably chagrined and subdued in Shane’s presence, came to the side of the truck. “You seen Daisy?” Shane asked.

  “No, sir,” Malcolm said. “But I think one of my friends talked to her earlier.” He walked over to his group of friends and they talked for a minute before he came back over. “Mary says Daisy applied at the Lazy Kettle, and she has a singing engagement tonight.”

  That was all Shane needed to know. “Thank you,” he said, tipping his hat to the boy.

  The Lazy Kettle! His thoughts turned to where she’d supposedly gone. He had old college friends who played poker and pool at the Lazy Kettle, and though it was a tad more upscale than the other similar establishments in the area, he could still picture the live entertainment up front, and the thought of his girl putting herself out there like that…

  He arrived at the Lazy Kettle and parked his car, and when he shut the door, he could hear the clear, sweetly melodic voice he’d recognize anywhere. His heart warmed then, though his blood boiled. She was okay. She was safe. And she’d lied to him.

  He made his way through the entrance, chose a table at the back, and ordered a drink. He stayed in the shadows, wanting to confirm that she was where she was supposed to be before she saw him. If she saw him, she’d know she was in big trouble, and he didn’t want to ruin her performance.

  God, she had the voice of an angel.

  He
sat drinking his beer, running his finger along the condensation on the outside of his chilled bottle, watching her. When she sang, she came alive. Her head fell back and her chest rose, her hands lifting in tune to the music as she belted out the most hauntingly beautiful song he’d ever heard. If after all this she’d still be his girl, he’d have her sing that to him, just the two of them alone. When she finished, the crowd erupted in cheers, some standing on their feet and others clapping and hollering. Shane’s chest swelled with pride. She was a naughty little girl sometimes but that was his girl up there on stage.

  His girl.

  When the song finished, a woman with dark black hair, wearing an evening gown, came to the front with the microphone. “And now, ladies and gentleman, our final song for the evening. Please give a rousing round of applause for our lovely Daisy!”

  Their Daisy? She was his Daisy.

  He sat and listened to her sing one more time, but then he realized that if this were the last song she was singing, that meant that she’d be coming out soon. He pushed himself to his feet, polished off his drink, and plunked it down on the table. He’d be damned if he let her slip out of his fingers again.

  Pushing himself to the front of the crowd, he stood in the shadows one last time while she finished. He waited until the last sound lingered, and then he followed her to the back room. It was crowded, and he had a hard time navigating his way past the older tables that were stacked up against the wall, boxes of supplies, and a crowd of dedicated fans.

  He could see the very top of Daisy’s head bobbing through the crowds, toward an open doorway. He hung back a bit and observed. In front of him sat what appeared to be the owner, waiting for her. He had a stack of bills in front of him, a dirty cigar hanging from his mouth, and he wore soiled clothes.

  “You said you were going to pay me up front,” Daisy said, her arms crossed on her chest. Thankfully they didn’t shut the door, as there was such noise outside they could barely be heard anyway.

  “That was last week,” the man muttered, not making eye contact. “This week, I’ll have to pay you what we agreed on for today only. I can’t afford to pay you all in advance with the rising costs of running this place.”

  Daisy stood with her hands on her hips. “Then why did you make the offer to begin with?” she asked.

  The man put down his paperwork just long enough to stare at her. “I wanted good entertainment tonight. Our place was up for a new contract, and I was trying to wow my management. They were blown away, which is good news for me. But, they won’t be back now until next week, which is bad news for you.”

  Shane’s hands clenched in fists. The son of a bitch was pulling a fast one on her.

  But why did she need the money? What scrape had she gotten herself into?

  He’d find out what the trouble was. He’d warm her ass for her. But then he’d make it better.

  “Bad news for me?” Daisy’s voice rose, and she took a step closer to the man.

  Uh oh.

  “Let me tell you something, mister,” Daisy said, her eyes flashing at the man who sat in front of her. “I have bills to pay, and you promised me my pay up front. You have no right taking that back now. I demand that you give me what we agreed on.”

  “And I demand you leave my establishment,” the man said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. If you won’t take what I’m offering you, I’ll have you escorted out.”

  Daisy crossed the room and Shane had no idea what she’d do. He raced into the room just as the man pushed himself to his full height, towering over Daisy.

  “Don’t you dare threaten me,” he hissed at her, and his eyes widened with he saw Shane come in. “And who are you?”

  Daisy gasped. “Shane!”

  “She’s mine.”

  “Good. Get her out of here,” the man said.

  “You owe her money?” Shane asked. The man looked from Daisy to Shane and peeled a few bills off the stack in his hand, tossing them on the table to her.

  “Here,” he said. “Take it. But don’t you set foot back in here again, you hear me?”

  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” Shane said with a frown. Daisy’s wide eyes looked up at him sorrowfully. “She’s coming home with me, and she will not be back.”

  “But I have to!” Daisy protested. Shane merely gave her a long, hard stare, and she closed her mouth and looked at the floor.

  Without a word, he took Daisy’s upper arm and marched her out of the office, past the crowd of people, back into the main area of the restaurant, and she trotted to keep up with his long, firm strides. How he longed to take her over his knee right here and now. But no, he’d calm himself down first.

  When they arrived outside, she tried to yank her arm away. “Let go of me!” she shouted.

  “No.”

  He marched her until he got to his truck, opened the door, and slid her in. With a huff, she fastened her seatbelt. He locked and shut the door, then went to the driver’s side and opened his door. She sat with her arms across her chest, staring straight ahead. He shut the door and sighed.

  “Daisy, look at you,” he said. “You look just like you did that night I took you to Abby and Clay’s wedding. Have we not changed at all? Has nothing changed? Are you still that same girl I took to the wedding?”

  She closed her eyes and uncrossed her arms. “No,” she whispered. “No, I’m not. We’re not.”

  He sighed and turned to face her. “And why not?” he asked.

  She swallowed. “Well… I trust you now. I know you better, and I hope you know me better, too. I… I’m not that selfish little girl from that night. I think I’ve grown a bit. I really do.”

  He nodded. “I thought so,” he said. “But your behavior tonight has me baffled. Now are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  Her lips tightened.

  Gently, he placed a hand on her knee. “Daisy. Something is terribly wrong, but I have a feeling it isn’t anything I can’t help fix. Now tell me, darlin’. What is it?”

  She turned to face him, tears brimming in her large hazel eyes. “I made a horrible mistake, Shane.”

  He nodded. “I’ve made some horrible mistakes too, Daisy. But there ain’t nothin’ we can’t fix. You get me?”

  She blinked, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “Yes, Daddy. I do. I get you.” And she told him then. She told him everything. How Malcolm had hoodwinked her when she was too drunk to know what she’d agreed to. How he’d taken several thousand dollars and not replaced it. How she’d taken the second job to earn the extra money to replace the stolen money, but how she couldn’t get it back now.

  “Ah. So that’s it? A little stolen money is all?” he asked.

  She blinked. “A little stolen money?”

  He shook his head. “None of that was worth lying to me over, Daisy. I could have helped you. In fact, I will help you. But as your daddy, you know I’m none too pleased about you lying to me. I worried that something was terribly wrong, and I’m beside myself at your deception here.”

  Her face fell, and she sniffled. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  He gave her a long, hard stare. “Good. So this is what we’ll do. You’ll come back with me to the ranch. You’ll take the spanking you know you have coming. But when we’re done, this will be behind us. We’ll make it right again. And then I’ll help you come up with a plan to replace this money, and all will be better. Sound good?”

  She shifted on her seat. “Getting spanked doesn’t sound very good, no.”

  He merely shook his head. “Maybe that’s something you should’ve thought about before you came here tonight. Yeah?”

  Her face fell and she nodded. “Yes, Daddy. I’m so sorry, Shane.”

  He patted her knee. “Good girl. Then let’s go make this better. I’m taking you home, now, Daisy. I’m taking you back to where you belong.”

  Chapter Twelve

 
Daisy’s hands shook so badly as they approached the ranch that she splayed them across her thighs to steady them.

  He was going to spank her.

  She needed him to.

  But the guilt that riddled her from having deceived him ate her up inside. She needed it all washed away, and deep inside she knew she craved his tender, loving, but firm guidance.

  He cut the engine in the driveway and pointed a stern finger toward the upstairs. “Head up to your room, young lady. This is what you’ll do. You go on up to your bed and sit there and wait for me. And while you do, you think about what you’ve done. And you’ll tell me when I come up why I’m going to spank you. You get me?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  He gave a curt nod, his jaw set. “Go, then.”

  She scooted quickly, not wanting to lose her resolve before he came up to her. She knew that even as badly as she felt now, she’d feel worse if he didn’t spank her. What she had done was awful, and she felt deep down inside she deserved whatever he doled out.

  She made her way to her bedroom, sat down, and waited.

  Would he forgive her for what she’d done?

  Had she dreamed up the notion that she was special to him?

  Would things be the same now?

  Chapter Thirteen

  What Daisy had done had been wrong. She hadn’t owned up to it but had lied, and had gone behind his back and snuck around.

  Lying and disobedience were major offenses in the mind of Shane Weston, and one might even say they were deal breakers.

  But why had she done this? If she’d had the confidence in herself a pretty, winsome girl like her ought to have, she’d never have hooked up with Malcolm, and if she’d had the protection of a man who loved her, she’d never have been tipsy on moonshine to begin with. He knew in his heart she never would have gone off behind his back to make right what she’d done if he’d earned her trust.

  She had been wrong, but she’d tried so hard to make up for what she’d done. Daisy was a good girl, a girl who needed the love, protection, and attention of a man who loved her.