But the spanking had done more than tame my words. It showed me my feeling for Hayes had grown to more than a crush. He’d been back on the ranch for a few months now, and I had to admit the best part of my day was whenever he walked into a room.
Our relationship remained professional, if not a tad more flirty than usual after the spanking. But things had been so busy on the ranch—it was spring, wedding season—I didn’t have much time to process my feelings.
Brody was taking the staff out to dinner to celebrate a job well done and give us a much-needed break after five event weekends in a row. He had recently discovered a little Italian place that had just opened one town over and wanted to treat the crew. We all piled up into the CLAS ranch minibus—the sides proudly proclaiming in blue paint, Clean Living And Sunshine. Hayes squeezed into the empty seat next to me at the last moment. The heat from his arm as it brushed against mine sent electric tingles over my skin.
The polite chatter was enjoyable, but I was too wrapped up in how close the proximity of Hayes’ body was to mine to participate. My eyes kept fluttering to his large, tan hands. Hands that had pinned me in place and spanked me.
When we arrived, a thrill ran though me as Hayes again took the seat next to mine. A move that was not missed by my friends Georgia and Bridgette. Georgia gave me a curious eyebrow raise, and Bridgette flashed a brazen wink in my direction.
Food and drinks whirled around the table in a seemingly never-ending feast. Halfway into the meal, Bridgette filled my wineglass to the top from the chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio for a third time. My hand fluttered to my mouth as I giggled. My cheeks were already warmed from the wine.
Bridgette shrugged, her blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. A naughty smile played on her lips, “You may as well finish it off, Louanne. Otherwise Georgia’s going to go for it and get herself in trouble.”
Georgia flipped her long shiny mane of dark hair over her shoulder, her hazel eyes flashing. “Give me a break, Bridgette—I can handle my alcohol.”
Georgia’s husband, Brody, gave her a sidelong glance from the corner of his eyes, his chiseled jaw tightening. “I’m going to side with Bridgette on this one, honey.”
With a sigh, Georgia looked wistfully at her empty wineglass. “Well, then I call dibs on the last cannoli.” She pierced the creamy concoction with her fork, stuffing a bite into her mouth. A smug smile crossed her lips as she indulged in the delicacy. “Sorry, Louanne. It’s only fair.”
“Fine with me, I’m quite happy with the wine,” I said, taking another sip of the cool, tangy drink. It was delicious. Hayes had ordered it, knowing it was my favorite—and at the hefty price tag of thirty dollars a bottle, I was going to enjoy every last drop.
“I’m just surprised Bridgette’s sharing so well,” Travis said, a teasing glint in his dark eyes.
“Hey, I’m a generous person,” Bridgette teased back, elbowing her husband in the ribs. “Plus, I’m a beer girl.” Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed at her wineglass.
“An example of true generosity,” Travis laughed.
Brody stood from his chair and tapped the side of his water glass with his fork. “And on the topic of generosity, I’d like to propose a toast.” He lifted his glass in his hand, ice cubes clinking as he did. “To the staff of CLAS ranch. You all consistently give the best of yourselves to the ranch—your time, your talents, your energy. Without you all, there is no CLAS, just a few fields and buildings.” His tanned, handsome face turned to me. He was a spitting image of country music star Luke Bryan, only with lighter, wavier hair. Georgia was a lucky woman and she knew it.
I smiled back at Brody, the man who had hired me years ago and was now more like a brother than a boss. My smile fell, my brow knitting in confusion as his attention remained on me.
“Louanne, this evening was, as I told you all back at the ranch, an evening to relax and show my appreciation to the staff for a job well done—and to eat a meal we didn’t have to cook for ourselves with Memaw hollering at us.” Everyone at the table gave a chuckle, Memaw laughing the loudest. “Cheers, Memaw!”
The laughter died down and his attention turned back to me, “But it’s also an occasion to celebrate your hard work. You have been with CLAS since before you could drive a car. I’ve watched you grow both as a professional and a woman. Your creativity and attention to detail have helped to make our special events department what it is today. We wanted to take the time to thank you for the impact you have made. And now, Hayes would like to add a few words.”
Brody gave me a nod. Feeling humbled by his kind words, I replied with a smile and lifted my glass with a quiet, “Thank you.”
Beside me, Hayes stood from his chair. His blue-gray eyes looked over our team, flashing with emotion. Everyone quieted down, their attention focused on him. “Living and working off the ranch for these past six years, I learned a lot. But the most important lesson I’ve brought home with me, is just how lucky we all are to be a part of this. CLAS started as just a dream Brody had. But with the love, support, and hard work of family—and those of you that have become family—CLAS has become a place that turns others’ dreams into realities. And one dream in particular—the most important day of a couple’s life—a dream wedding.” His gaze locked on mine, the corners of his mouth crinkling up into one of his rare, heart-melting smiles. “Luna, you create and implement those amazing weddings. You truly give people the gift of having one perfect day in their lives to celebrate their love. Coming back to the ranch and getting to work with you has been a pleasure. I may be your boss now, but every day I learn something new from you. You are a rare gem.”
I gave a gulp. His words made tears sting at the backs of my eyes. But the way his gaze focused on my face—it took my breath away. This was Hayes—the boy I had known almost my whole life. When had he become the man who stood before me and made my heart pound against my ribs?
Hayes looked proud as his eyes rested on me again. “Tonight, we wanted to announce that thanks to Louanne’s direction and the entire team’s dedication, CLAS ranch has made it to Travel and Dining magazine’s Top Ten resorts for destination weddings.”
My eyes widened as I gasped. No ranch had ever made the T & D’s Top Ten. Those places were always faraway destination wedding resorts—white sand beaches in tropical paradise with the price tag to match. My hands flew up to my mouth in shock. A huge smile spread across my face, stretching my cheeks till they hurt. “No, way. Their Top Ten list? I had no idea! What an honor.”
Hayes put a hand on my shoulder. “The magazine is coming out to interview Louanne and the staff. They are going to photograph the ranch and do a two-page spread on our weddings. This is really going to put CLAS on the map.”
My friends looked toward me expectantly. I was not one for speeches. I managed to squeak out another meek, “Thank you.” Hayes, knowing my dislike for public attention and making speeches, saved me by holding a glass up and calling, “Three cheers for Louanne.”
He sat back down, his arm casually sliding along the back of my chair, brushing against my shoulders as it did. The skin beneath my shirt tingled at his nearness. My cheeks burned, my eyes cast downward as Hayes leaned over, whispering in my ear, “Great job, Louanne. You earned it.”
“Not without yours and everyone else’s help,” I murmured.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, leaning in closer. His husky voice whispered, “You’re beautiful. You know that?”
I had no idea if it was the magic of the evening, or the Pinot Grigio running through my veins, but against my reserved nature, I brazenly slipped my hand underneath the crisp white tablecloth, and onto Hayes’ muscular thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face. His hand wrapped around mine, his arm tightening around my shoulders. “May I drive you home?” he asked.
“Yes.” The word was out of my mouth before I could overthink it. Nervous butterflies tickled my tummy. Where would this lead?
* * *
This was Hayes. The boy next door—if your next door is hundreds of acres of rolling cattle ranch. My friend, my boss, my innocent crush.
When I was being completely honest with myself, I could admit that I had always harbored feelings for him. He was so serious, so steady. Always calm and collected. Balanced with just the right amount of softness. And he was sexy. With that tanned, tight body and those gorgeous eyes, he was quite a catch.
And now, he was pulling into the driveway of my house.
Cutting the engine, he turned to me, giving me another one of those smiles. They seemed to be becoming less rare as the evening went on.
“May I walk you to your door?” he asked, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Of course,” I answered.
His eyes lingered on my face for a moment. His hand slipped from mine. With the grace of a panther, he slid from his seat, exiting the car and shutting his door behind him.
It had been so long since I’d been alone with a man like this. What was the proper protocol? Should I sit and wait for him to open my door in a chivalrous display of manhood? Or throw the door open myself, proving my independence? Before I could make up my mind, my door was swung open. Hayes was by my side, offering me his hand.
I slipped my hand into his. Tingles danced across my palm. I stepped out of the car, letting Hayes lead me up the path. We reached the front door of my little cottage. Facing one another, Hayes took my other hand in his as well. Standing underneath the soft glow of the porch light, the magic of the evening seemed to weave its way around us, binding us in its spell.
Hayes looked down at our joined hands. His thumbs brushed over the backs of mine. An uncertainty flashed within his eyes. He hesitated before he spoke. “Louanne, I have a question I’ve wanted to ask you since fifth grade.”
My heart leaped from my chest. What could it possibly be? I’d never seen the look that rested on Hayes’ face as he spoke. Nerves danced in my stomach as I replied, “What is it?”
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
Nerves turned to butterfly wings fluttering through my middle. My breath caught in my throat. I whispered, “Yes.”
Hayes slipped his hand from mine. He slid it behind my head, tangling it in my hair and pulling my face toward his. Our eyes closed as I stretched up on tiptoe. My mouth met his. His arm wrapped around my lower back as his hand pulled me in closer. My lips parted, my tongue slipping into his mouth. My nipples tightened against my bra. My core melted, my entire body turned to jelly. Tingles vibrated over my lips as the kiss deepened.
Too soon, Hayes pulled away. He held my face in his hands, his soft eyes looked over me. He leaned in, placing one soft, parting kiss on my lips. “Good night, Louanne.”
“Good night, Hayes.”
He watched me as I let myself into the house. I waved from the window as he made his way down the steps to his car.
My fingertips brushed my lips. They still tingled.
* * *
Morning came and with it came the shock of what had happened. Hayes had kissed me.
Lying in my bed, I couldn’t remove the permeant smile that had been attached to my face ever since Hayes had kissed me. I pulled back the mounds of feather comforters I couldn’t sleep without. Tiptoeing over my plush white carpet, I hurried to the shower.
Stripping off my pink cotton nightgown, I blushed with shame. My nipples were still peaked, hardened from the memory of the arousing evening. Sighing, I stepped out of my still damp panties. I turned the shower on as hot as I could stand, stepping in and pulling the curtain behind me.
The hot water ran down my back, relaxing my muscles. I closed my eyes, leaning my head under the steady stream of water. Carefully, I squeezed Argan oil moisturizing shampoo into my palm—the stuff cost a fortune and I didn’t want to spill a drop. Using my long, manicured fingernails, I scrubbed the shampoo into my scalp. Suds gathered, cleaning my hair as well as my soul. I rinsed the bubbles from my hair, then combed in a detangling rinse that smelled like strawberry.
Facing the showerhead, I tilted my head to the side. The water ran over my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach. The pelting of the water further awoke my nipples as they tightened. Thinking of last night’s kiss sent a delicious shiver through me.
As the water cascaded over my skin, my mind wandered to the day ahead. How should I act around Hayes? Where did we stand after the kiss?
I could try to keep a comfortable distance from him. Be professional. But it was kind of hard now that he was directly over me. Yikes. If Travis’ wife Bridgette had heard that, she would have chimed in with a giggle and her favorite joke, that’s what she said. Cue a daydream; Hayes, hard as a rock and directly over me. The muscles of his shoulders tense as he hovered ready to slide that magnificent cock—
Back to daylight and working with Hayes. He was a great boss; firm but laced with just the right amount of softness—he even made everyone on the ranch homemade ice cream whenever they asked. And he was sexy. With that tanned, tight body and those gorgeous eyes, he was easy to look at during a long day of work. The way my pussy had responded to him when he had spanked me—it sent such a carnal longing running through me—it was going to be hard to stay focused at work.
Even before the kiss, I knew he was interested. According to Memaw, he had been since grade school. More than once, I had overheard her saying, “Hayes is as sweet on that Louanne as a black bear is on honey.”
So, why—after a multiyear dry spell in the dating department—wasn’t I jumping right on top of the opportunity to date Hayes? Or, as Bridgette would say, ‘jumping right on top of Hayes.’
There were two itty-bitty issues that stood in the way of me taking a chance on love with the handsome cowboy.
Number one, Hayes was my boss. I prided myself on my professionalism and the fact that I grew my career from such a young age through hard work and maintaining a mature demeanor. Dating your boss did not fall under the category of things a professional woman did.
Issue number two; Hayes is a daddy.
As in, his women call him daddy, he calls them baby girl, and he spanks his women.
Someone who was more comfortable with her sexuality might say to me, “Louanne, what’s the problem? Sounds amazing. Who wouldn’t want that hot cowboy smacking their ass? Go for it, girl.” And after last night, why not enter that kind of relationship?
But I just couldn’t.
I’m not that girl.
Even if I could get past the fact that Hayes was my boss—I loved my job and would not do anything to put it in jeopardy—I had serious hang-ups about being with him.
I was the good girl. I had always been the good girl.
I took my mom out for lunch and manicures every Saturday. I still sent birthday cards—paper ones, through the mail. Not the ones you can make and send over email. I cleaned my house every week. I cooked fresh, healthy food for myself whenever I wasn’t eating on the ranch. I donated to every charity that was requested of me, even the one where you had to buy wrapping paper from the little kids in town—I had a closet full of the stuff. I went to church every Sunday. I even taught the eight-year-olds’ Sunday school.
When all my friends were making out behind the bleachers in high school, I was tutoring struggling freshman in the library. I was the girl who had saved her first kiss for her long-term college boyfriend—the one who turned out to be my last, and only, boyfriend.
I just wasn’t the woman who entered a taboo, daddy/baby girl relationship. I was a strong, independent woman who liked doing things my way and not answering to a man—especially a spanking man.
But damn, that kiss.
Heaving a sigh, I shu
t off the water.
Hanging up the towel over the bar to dry, I hurried through my routine—there was a wedding to prepare for. I needed to forget about last night and focus on my very last to-do list. Still, nervous excitement danced through my belly as I dressed, knowing I was only an hour away from seeing Hayes.
Shoving thoughts of his lips against mine aside, I sat down at my desk, pulling my notebook from my bag. For every wedding I planned, I gave that wedding a nickname. The nickname always revolved around the theme, or something that had happened during the planning process. My notebook was full of lists of ideas, to-dos, as well as notes of what worked well—or didn’t. My pen made scratching sounds as I furiously wrote the final list for the wedding that would take place this evening. This list was meant for my sister, Josie, who was currently working on the ranch part-time to help with events.
Josie’s Final Checklist for Friday Night Shoestring Budget Wedding
◻ Make sure Colton is the one to help Lady DJ unload her equipment. (Since the couple couldn’t afford a DJ, she offered to do it for free in exchange for lessons with Colton. I think if she gets a little eye candy before the ceremony she won’t be upset when the wedding party inevitably does not tip her.)
◻ Call the bakery this morning to confirm, for the second time, that they will deliver the sheet cake at two p.m. (Do not, I repeat, do not do that thing where you say you are ‘just taste testing the icing,’ taking a little sweep from the bottom with your finger. I saw your trademark swipe at Overprotective Father of the Bride’s wedding.
◻ Make sure the mother of the bride gives you the heirloom cake knife and server. Wear the white gloves (I’ll know if you don’t) and wipe any fingerprints from the silver. Put the servers and the gloves into the plastic bin marked ‘Cake Server.’ Please put the box in my office.
◻ I already have the hall decorated but we need to get the heart ornament favors from the bride’s aunt and place those on the table. Remember—spread the red. Do not lump them together.
Boss Daddy Page 3