“Marriage is a sacred bond between two people and should not be made into a joke, young lady. It concerns me how lightly you take that vow—especially considering your career choice.” His hand lightly patted my bottom. Tingles ran from my bottom to my pussy. My buttocks clenched, my pussy tightened as I waited for him to spank me.
He gave my ass a light slap. The sound was loud in the hall, though the spank only stung slightly. “Tell Daddy how sorry you are for wanting to make up a lie.”
“I-I’m very sorry, Daddy. It won’t happen again.” Butterflies tickled my tummy. The balls of my feet pressed into the floor. Was he going to spank me lightly again? It felt so good. Being over his lap and having him chastise me like a naughty little girl while spanking me over my panties was turning me on. My nipples tightened against my bra. My pussy wept and pulsed, wanting to be wrapped around his cock. He spanked me again, on the middle of my bottom. Despite my best efforts to stay still, my hips wiggled. As they did, my clit was pushed against my slick folds, which dug into his muscular hip. I could feel a hard bulge forming in his jeans, his cock hardening against my stomach.
“Oh, Daddy, please don’t spank me anymore. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise!” I cried.
“Daddy’s not done with you yet, little one. You haven’t learned your lesson. Do you need to stand in the corner of this Mess Hall? I’ll leave your skirt up just like this and everyone can come in and admire you in your pretty white panties. They’ll know you were a naughty girl and that your loving daddy took the time to properly punish you. What do you think?” Another delicious stinging spank landed on my bottom.
“Oh, no, Daddy! Only you can see me in my panties! Please don’t make me stand in the corner,” I cried.
“Well, if you don’t want anyone to see your panties, maybe I should take them off.” His fingertips slid into the waistband of my panties. He pulled them down until my bottom was bared. “It would be best to spank this pretty little bottom on the bare, first. Then, when you are in the corner, everyone will see how red Daddy made your ass.”
“No, Daddy, no! Please don’t spank my bare bottom,” I protested. I buried my face in my hands as a shameful grin spread over my face.
His hand came down, a loud ‘smack’ echoed through the hall. He spanked my bare bottom, alternating between hard and light smacks. My skin was becoming warmer with each spank. Tingles danced over my bottom. My pussy was hot and melty. I squeezed my legs together and moved my hips, massaging my clit against his thigh and giving myself pleasure. I had never been so turned on. “I only wanted to look pretty in the magazine, Daddy. Please don’t spank me,” I cried while in my mind, I begged, please don’t stop spanking me!
“I want you to be able to do the magazine, sweetheart.” His hand rested on my warm bottom. “I only want you to do it honestly.”
My hips stopped moving. I turned my head over my shoulder, trying to see his face. I asked, “What are you proposing?”
He pulled my panties up over my bottom. Carefully, he removed the hem of my skirt from my waistband and laid it back down over my bottom. He helped me up from over his legs and sat me on his lap. His arms wrapped protectively around me. His hand went to the side of my face. Those blue-gray eyes locked on mine. He said, “Marry me.”
I froze. His words hung in the air before me. Heat crept up my neck. My heart had trouble finding its rhythm. “I... I... I can’t. We are too young and have only been dating a few weeks and I’d make a terrible wife—you know how bossy I am and—”
His brow furrowed. His jaw clenched. He got that look he gets before I get into big trouble. “Louanne, are you saying no to marrying me now, or ever? Because I don’t date without the intention of the relationship going somewhere. If this isn’t going anywhere, you need to tell me now.”
“What? I’m head over heels in love with you, Hayes! What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I am asking you if you see yourself marrying me or not.” His eyes flashed with concern.
“Are you giving me an ultimatum? Marry you, or break up?” I gasped.
“No. I’m simply asking you to ask yourself what your intentions are,” he said.
What were my intentions? I stammered, “I-I love you, Hayes. Isn’t that enough?”
When he spoke, his words sent a shiver down my spine. Goosebumps rose along my arms. “I love you too, Luna. But I want more than that. Because one day, down the road, after a big fight or a long day, we might not be feeling that love. And until that feeling comes back, I want to know that we made a vow—that we committed ourselves to one another. In good times, and in bad. Marriage is a pact you make with another person that goes beyond love.”
Tears sprang up in my eyes. I had never heard marriage described so beautifully in my entire life—and I had been around a lot of weddings. I threw my arms around Hayes’ neck, burying my face in his chest. “You’re right, Hayes. And I do want to... marry you.”
He pulled me from him, holding my shoulders. He leaned down, his intense stare studying my gaze. “You mean it, Luna?”
I nodded, brushing at the tears that threatened to fall. A huge smile spread across his face. He grabbed me up underneath my arms and stood up, lifted me into the air. I laughed as he spun me around in a circle, yelling, “Yeehaw!” When he finally put me down, I was dizzy, and he had to hold my arms to steady me.
“Let’s do this properly.” Hayes sat me down on the bench. Then, he got down on one knee before me. “Louanne Dixon, will you be my wife?”
“Yes,” I answered, still laughing from his excitement.
My eyes widened as I watched Hayes pull a small black velvet box from his pocket. My hands went to my mouth, covering up my gasp as he opened the little lid with a soft ‘click.’ My heart fluttered at the sight of what was inside the box. A gorgeous ring. The sparkling oval-shaped center diamond looked to be at least two carats and it was framed by a halo of set side stones to add further lavishness to the design. The ring’s shank was also adorned with a triple row of tiny diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I gasped. “Where did you get that... have you just been carrying it around with you? Oh, my goodness, Hayes. It’s beautiful.”
He took my left hand in his. Taking the ring from the box, he slipped it onto my ring finger. I held my hand out, watching the diamond sparkle as I turned my finger this way and that under the lights of the Mess Hall. It was gorgeous. Hayes stood up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “It’s been in my pocket since the day after our first kiss. A man just never knows when he’s going to need to propose.”
It was the most romantic thing I’d heard of. I threw my arms around him and kissed my fiancé.
And in one magical moment I went from wedding planner to bride to be.
* * *
The phone call to Eloise was almost as exciting as telling my sister I was getting married. Josie hopped up and down clapping and begging to be my maid of honor. Eloise shrieked into the phone then began jabbering and planning the multitude of possible poses I could show off potential dresses in. Both women were equally excited.
We told my mother and Alice, Hayes’ mom, together. They cried and hugged one another, both proclaiming they knew this day would come. Then we shared the news with the rest of the ranch at a congratulatory dinner Memaw cooked for us.
Just when the excitement and buzz about the engagement began to die down around the ranch, Eloise sent out Travel and Dining’s photography team. They were followed by a gaggle of over-made-up women who each had about a can of spray in their hair and lipstick that was two shades too dark. But the dresses they brought with them forgave any makeup mistakes they had made.
My goodness, those dresses.
I had longed to put one of those gorgeous, perfect, pure white dresses on my body since I was twelve years old. I got my first subscription to Brides at the age of fifteen. As a teen, when my friends were out partying with the football team, I sat on my bed, doodling designs for
wedding gowns. And now, I was finally getting to wear one.
And not just any chain store bridal gown—though I would have been quite happy with that option had this amazing opportunity not presented itself. These dresses were handmade, one of a kind with designer’s names proudly emblazed over the tags.
The one I cherished most was the hand-beaded sparkling sweetheart neckline with the lace-capped sleeves. When the makeup artist unzipped that baby blue garment bag, I knew it was the one, even before the words ‘Vera Wang’ crossed her lips.
Knowing I would soon be wearing that dress, I barely felt the women pulling and tugging at my pin-straight hair as they tried to tease and spray it into submission. “Go light on the makeup. She’s a natural beauty,” the lady in the burgundy lipstick said, smiling at me as she lightly stroked powder on my face. When they were done with me, the woman stood back, admiring their handiwork. Then, they slipped me into the Vera Wang.
Standing before the mirror, tears sprang in my eyes as I twirled. The heavy fabric fell into place so beautifully, I felt as if I were on the set of a movie. The beadwork glimmered and sparkled beneath the lights. I couldn’t take my eyes off the intricate details.
“It’s perfect.”
“She’s perfect.”
“That dress looks like it was made for her.”
“Maybe it was. I always thought Vera might be a fairy godmother in disguise.”
I smiled shyly at their compliments. I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. And it was time to take my picture. Encapsulate the fleeting moment that would soon be over.
Modeling for a magazine is a lot harder work than it looks. You have to contort your body into all kinds of uncomfortable positions, then tilt your head just so and place your hands in the right location. Then, hold the pose until the cameraman gets the lighting the way he wants it and takes the photo. But with that cool silk against my skin and the weight of the dress pressed against me, I didn’t care.
When it was over, Memaw happily fed the crowd, eager to have them gone. People tended to leave quicker when they were full, ready to have a rest in the bus on the ride back to the airport. Brody had offered them all cabins to stay the night, but they had another shoot in the morning and had to be off.
As the photographer was leaving, he called out to me, “Don’t forget to send Eloise the details for your wedding. She can’t wait!”
A ball of ice formed in my stomach, all the excitement of the photoshoot melting away with his words. I realized I hadn’t yet made a single plan for my own wedding.
As soon as the bus pulled away with the team, I hurried to my office and pulled out my notebook. I needed to make a list. As I sat there, my eyelids started to droop. There was not a word on my paper when Hayes came and took me by the arm, leading me to the truck. He drove me home and tucked me into bed. Before he left, he kissed my forehead and said, “Sweet dreams, baby girl. There will never be a more beautiful bride than you.”
Drifting off to sleep, I smiled, dreaming of lace and silk.
Chapter Five
Memaw’s face popped out from behind the Mess Hall kitchen door. “Louanne, call for you! Get in here, honey. The way this fella is breathing into the phone sounds like he’s gonna have a heart attack if you keep him waiting much longer!” The door swung shut and she disappeared.
Georgia looked at me curiously. “Who could that be? I assumed everyone who needed to call you has your direct line.”
I shrugged, wiping my hands on my napkin. “Once in a while we get a call from someone who found our number in the phone book. The ranch kitchen is listed as our main number.”
Bridgette scrunched up her nose, helping herself to another piece of garlic bread. “What’s a phone book?”
“It’s like the internet but with yellow pages. Brody insisted we list our number in there. It’s the only way people could contact him back in the Stone Age when he opened this place and there was no such thing as cell phones.” I sighed, standing from my bench. I hated to leave behind Memaw’s baked spaghetti, but lunch would have to wait.
I hurried into the kitchen, brushing past Memaw as she grumbled, “Took you long enough,” and picked up the phone receiver from the counter. Stretching its cord to its maximum length, I tried to find a quieter corner of the room.
“Hello? Louanne Dixon speaking,” I said, leaning against the wall and twirling the cord around my hand.
A heavy breathing came through the other line. In between heaves, a blunt voice demanded, “Is this the wedding planner?”
My nose wrinkling, I answered, “Uh... yes. This is she.”
“Brian. Brian O’Malley. Pleasure to,” his introduction was cut off by a coughing fit, “make your acquaintance. I’m a reporter from the Little Peak Times. We’ve gotten word that you have quite the wedding operation going out up there at the ranch.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you. We feel that marriage is the—”
“I’ll stop you right there, little missy. I was married for thirty years to the love of my life. God rest her soul. I’ve been a bachelor for ten and I’m perfectly happy—I’ve no need for your services. The real reason I’m calling is the Top Ten,” he said.
“Oh, so you’ve heard we made the list?” I asked, trying to sound surprised. The day the T & D article on the ranch hit, everyone in Little Peak had called to congratulate us. Memaw threatened to take the phone off the hook if the calls didn’t slow down.
The article doubled as an engagement announcement. At the end of the spread there was a small information box with a pretty floral border. Within it were the words, Wedding planner extraordinaire, Louanne Dixon and her groom, Hayes Jenkins are planning their own wedding. It’s sure to top all others. Stay tuned with Travel and Dining for a special release covering the lovebirds’ nuptials.
That Sunday, the Little Peak Baptist Woman’s Guild threw us a surprise shower after church, making our engagement feel official. I was told, more than once, “We’ve been waiting for this day since you two were in high school!”
Brian spoke loudly. “Yes, of course I heard you made the list!” His excitement caused his breath to quicken. “Who hasn’t? I think the news made it all the way to Jackson. Anyhow, I’d love to come do an interview with you for the paper about your wedding planning business. How about two p.m.?” he wheezed.
My brows rose in surprise. “Two o’clock, as in two o’clock today?” At four o’ clock I was meeting with a family who was considering throwing a sweet sixteen ball at the ranch, and I had blocked off the entire afternoon to prepare.
“Yes, today. We’ve got to hit this news while it’s still fresh. Trust me, the people of Little Peak are salt of the Earth—but they have an extremely short attention span. What do you say, Louanne? After your taste of fame with T & D, don’t you want to see your name in print again?” he asked.
“I mean, I don’t care about my name in print, but I’d hate to pass up an opportunity for the ranch—”
“Two o’clock it is! See you then.” He hung up the phone so quickly I wasn’t sure if he was trying to avoid giving me time to change my mind, or if he needed to go find an inhaler or something. Memaw hadn’t been exaggerating about the man’s breathing.
At two o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on my office door. Standing and smoothing my skirt, I called, “Come in.”
The door opened and a stout man in a tweed suit let himself into the room. His suit jacket was buttoned, the material straining around his barrel-like torso. He took a few deep breaths, then grabbed my hand. His palm was sweaty as he pumped my arm up and down. “Louanne Dixon, you’re as pretty as a picture. Brian O’Malley. A pleasure to meet you in person.” He plopped himself down on one of my buffalo-checked club chairs, throwing a notebook on the table.
I was surprised by how much I instantly liked the strange man. Taking a seat, I smiled. “So nice to have you here today. My mother and I read the Times every Sunday.”
“The New York Times? Good for you,” he la
ughed.
“No, of course, the Little Peak Times. It’s charming and we enjoy keeping up with the happenings in our community.”
“Well, I appreciate it. We are a small paper but have been fortunate in the fact that Little Peak seems to be a place where time stands still. When internet papers came around, many other small-time presses came to a close, but the inhabitants of our town still like to hold that paper in their hands. Nothing like a cup of coffee and black ink smudges on your fingers while reading a good story,” he said.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I didn’t add that my sister loved that ink when she was a girl and stuck every kind of Play-Doh and putty to the paper, watching the ink from the black words magically transfer from the pages.
Pulling a pair of horn-rimmed glasses from his breast pocket, he unfolded the metal frame, balancing them on the bridge of his nose. He pulled a pen from the same pocket, then peered at me over the glasses. “Miss Louanne, if you don’t mind, I’ll get right down to the questioning. How many weddings do you host per year?”
“I plan and host events on the ranch every weekend, but weddings I keep to one a month—two at max if there is an emergency. I like to be sure to give the bride the attention that she deserves and that just isn’t possible if you are dealing with more than two brides at a time.”
His bushy eyebrows rose as he said, “Emergency?”
“Yes. Emergency as in one year I had already committed to an April wedding, but then this poor dear called me telling me her father was going to have surgery in May and there was no way he would be able to walk her down the aisle until after summer and she so had her heart set on a spring wedding. I managed to add her to the month. It was a busy one—I don’t think I sat down to dinner once, last April.”
“Couldn’t she just have gotten married the following spring? What’s the big deal?” he asked.
Boss Daddy Page 10