Georgia's Daddy (2 page)

“That’d be much appreciated.” As soon as he dropped into the chair across from hers, he realized how tired he was from what had already been a long day.

“I’m just saying,” she continued as she came around the counter holding a paper plate, “that if you play the bachelor for
too
long you might find yourself stuck there.”

This time, he didn’t manage to stop the groan that rose in his throat. “Gran—”

“All right, I’ll be quiet,” she said as she set the plate down in front of him.

Ha! Not very likely!

“I just thought you’d like to know that Carol told me that she saw her after church this past Sunday, and she said the girl is absolutely lovely.”

“Good for her,” he grunted.

“Really, Samuel, you could at least
try
…”

His patience worn through, he looked up from his sandwich long enough to give her a quelling stare.

“Fine, fine,” she grumbled, raising her palms in the air. “It’s none of my affair.”

Not that that ever stopped her, he thought as he took another bite of his sandwich. He’d better manage to bump into the Miller girl, sooner rather than later, if he wanted any peace. It would appease her for a time. Not for long, of course, but he was sure the girl would be moving on to one of the bigger cities soon, so it wouldn’t matter much after that.

“You know, Samuel, come to think of it, this is the third Sunday in a row you’ve missed. You really
should
go more often. The pastor was asking after you.”

With a shake of his head, he chewed in silence. He supposed that listening to his failings to God was preferable to his failings to marry and produce her great-grandchildren. Only mildly so, but enough to make him hold his tongue until it was time to go back to work.

* * *

As it turned out, he didn’t have to go looking for the Miller girl after all. She showed up on his doorstep when he’d only been in long enough to chuck his boots. He’d been about to head for the shower, which was why he answered the door in his wife-beater with dirt on his face and sweat in his hair. He’d hoped to make a better first impression—so that his grandmother wouldn’t have a reason to insist on a second meeting—but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Funny, he hadn’t expected her to be so young. When he’d opened the door to see her standing there, her shiny reddish-brown hair in braids on either side of her head, he immediately did a double-take. Then he noticed the shorts she was wearing and how tiny she was. Had his grandmother said she was back from school? She didn’t look much older than eighteen. Surely, she hadn’t meant
high
school
, had she? God, did she think he was that desperate?

Of course, knowing her, she probably did.

“Hi,” she chirped. “I’m Georgia Miller.” She stuck out a hand for him to shake.

He took it gingerly, hoping she wasn’t the squeamish kind that minded a man with dirty fingernails. He couldn’t help but notice that she had a nice smile. She was practically beaming at him.

“I know who you are.”

“You do?” Her smile stretched wider.

“Yes, my grandmother already warned me you’d moved back in with your dad.”

Georgia’s eyes widened in a way that was entirely beguiling. Too bad she was too young for him. “Warned you?” she echoed. “Oh, so he told her I’m a proud, pistol-wielding citizen, did he?”

“No.” He frowned as he peeked around her, trying to see if he spotted a gun. “You don’t have a pistol on you, do you?” Not that he had a problem with girls carrying guns. So long as they were old enough to have a permit to carry one.

“No,” she giggled, a trilling laughter that somehow made him smile too. “Can I come in?” Without waiting for an answer either way, she bounded past him.

If it had been anyone else who had barged in without permission, he would have demanded an apology on the spot, then he probably would have politely but firmly told her to leave. But somehow her exuberant innocence had him charmed. What would it hurt, he reasoned. She was petite, and though she was curvy her frame was still small enough that he would have no trouble handling anything she could dish out.

“So, you’re going to think this is silly, but would you be a good neighbor and lend me a cup of flour?”

Sam felt himself smiling back at her. “I always thought it was sugar people borrowed.”

“Oh, well, I’ll take some of that too, if you have it.”

When he arched a brow, she laughed unapologetically. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping today.”

“I see.”

“My dad thinks I’m cooking dinner tonight, but that’s going to be hard seeing as how we have exactly two things in the fridge. One is milk and the other is lettuce that has seen better days.” She made a face, earning a chuckle from him.

“You should probably throw that out.”

“I didn’t know how desperate I’d be,” she explained, batting her dark, long eyelashes that framed luminous green eyes.

He was instantly attracted to her, and then repelled at himself. She was
way
too young for him! Eighteen, at best. Gran, as much as he hated to admit it, had been right. It had been much too long since he’d entertained a woman. His body was responding without the proper protocol.

“Flour and sugar,” he said before making his way to the kitchen. Without a word, Georgia followed behind him as though she was a regular guest.

Once inside he found the cabinet housing the baking ingredients and pulled down his grandma’s well-loved, stained bags before carefully measuring out a cup of each. He deposited the ingredients into two separate Ziploc bags before handing them over to Georgia.

“Thanks!”

“Not a problem. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Well…” She bit down on her bottom lip, her green eyes dancing. “I don’t suppose you have a box of spaghetti you’re not using?”

He should be more than a little irritated with her, he knew. He wasn’t running a grocery store. But she was cute as a button, and somehow he found her unassuming manner charming. Sam shook his head at her. “Do you mind if I ask what you did when you were supposed to be grocery shopping?”

“Um, well… it wasn’t that I didn’t
go
.”

“I see.”

“I did. I even bought stuff. Or, I tried to. But when I got to the register, my, ah… my card sort of…”

“Declined?” he supplied, keeping his voice neutral as to not add to her embarrassment.

But young Georgia didn’t look embarrassed. “My dad gave me some money to buy groceries.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But right next door to the grocery store there was this
amazing
shoe sale going on! I figured it had to be fate, you know?”

Sam didn’t believe much in fate, but he nodded to keep the story moving.

“So I got this pair of
fabulous
stilettos. I’m not exactly sure when I’ll have a chance to wear them, but better have them just to be safe, you know?”

“So you spent the money your dad gave you for groceries… on shoes?” he asked, just to be sure.

“That about sums it up.”

He’d thought she’d at least have the grace to blush, but she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what she’d done. Sam took her measure quickly, and while his inner dom would normally be rearing his formidable, lecturing head right now, Sam quickly silenced the urge. She was young. She would learn.

“Does this work?” he asked once he’d produced a box of thin spaghetti noodles.

“Yes! Oh, my God, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

“Not yet I’m not. Won’t you need sauce?”

She gave him that endearing smile again, the one where her lips curled as she bit down on her bottom lip and her cheek dimpled.

Once he’d found what he was looking for, he walked around the counter and held out the jar of homemade sauce his grandmother had put up. “Now, this comes with a warning that’s not on the label.”

She looked at him in that fresh-faced, wide-eyed way she had that was quickly making him forget why he couldn’t kiss her, just once. “It does?”

“Yes. My grandma’s a hell of a cook and this is her recipe. After you eat it, you might never want store-bought sauce again.”

Georgia broke into a titter of laughter that made the corners of his own mouth twitch. “Thanks for letting me know.” She reached for the sauce, but he didn’t let it go.

“You’re welcome to the spaghetti, but the jar has to come back. Understand?”

He expected her to look surprised as his voice deepened to a stern, commanding one. But she just smiled as though nothing was amiss. “Yes, Sir.”

Jesus. His cock went from semi-hard to rigid in all the time it took to draw in a surprised breath. Suddenly, little Georgia looked a hell of a lot more attractive than she had three seconds ago, and she’d already been looking pretty cute. He could get used to hearing that.

And if it wasn’t his imagination, she was looking at him with more than neighborly affection. Yes, he could very easily get used to this. He had to do something, quick, to cure them both. And he knew just the thing.

“What are you going to tell your dad when you run out of flour or sugar?”

“Hmm.” Her brow furrowed, and even that he found adorable. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Well, I highly doubt you can eat off one box of spaghetti until the next time you get money to go grocery shopping.”

“I guess you’re right.” She shrugged, looking unconcerned.

Perhaps she knew a whole host of neighbors who were more than willing to open their cabinets to her. The thought simultaneously amused him and made him jealous. This was ridiculous—better get on with it, and get rid of her before either of them did something they could later regret.

“So, how do you intend to pay me for these things?”

Her smile dimmed at the question. “I thought you were giving them to me.”

“You asked for flour and sugar. That, you can have. But I’ll need something for the others. It’s
very
good sauce.”

Georgia giggled, but she was beginning to look uncertain. Good. She should think her actions through a little more, and where they might lead. Generally, country life was pretty calm, but she
had
just come into his house without knowing him from Adam. And if she’d bought the groceries with the money her father had given her, she wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.

“I told you I don’t have any money.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Well, what do you want then?” She looked more curious than concerned.

He’d been on the verge of letting her off with nothing more than a mild scolding. Gran was right—he couldn’t go around scaring all the girls off, if for no other reason than he didn’t want Gran to have to hear it in church on Sunday. But the fact that she seemed so trusting when he, a perfect stranger, had demanded payment from her, rather than running from the house screaming, bothered him.

“Lean over the table and you’ll find out,” he instructed, pointing toward the small, round four-seater where he and Gran took their meals.

She gave him a questioning look and when she followed his order he was both pleased and annoyed. Funny how she could inspire such competing emotions inside him.

“Like this?” she queried, leaning over and sticking out a mouth-wateringly curvaceous ass.

Jesus. What was he
doing
? But seeing her bent over like that and waiting for him woke the dominant he kept locked away from the public eye. He was raring to get out, and while Sam was very careful about hiding his less savory aspects—namely his unsavory desire to dominate willing women, such as Georgia—he couldn’t stop himself. Not this time—not when she was literally asking for it.

Besides, it was for her own good, Sam told himself.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice softened as she looked over her shoulder at him.

She had amazing eyes. They were light green, the color of a meadow at springtime. As he got closer he saw that she had flecks of gold in them. She was such a tiny little thing—with narrow shoulders, dropping into a soft, womanly back and gently curving hips. Every bit of her was petite and feminine, which made those full, delectable cheeks even more surprising. It was the best kind of surprise, Sam’s favorite kind—oh, if she were only five years older he’d be so tempted to unwrap her.

“I’m going to spank you, Georgia.”

Her breath hitched in a way that belied any fear. “Why?”

“Don’t you think you deserve it? It’s not very smart to spend money set aside for food on something as frivolous as shoes.”

“How can you say that? You haven’t even seen them.”

“What they look like isn’t the point. You can’t spend every dime you make on a whim—and it wasn’t even
your
money. So, really, it’s like stealing.”

After his words sank in, her eyes began to widen. “I… I didn’t think about it like that.”

He nodded, gratified by her quick realization. “And not only that, but you just came in here with me, and you don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer.”

“Are you?” she teased, doing that flirty thing with her eyelashes again, her dimple flashing.

This girl! He wanted to spank her, yes; his palm was as itchy as he could ever remember it being before. But he wanted to bend her over backwards, afterward, and do things to her that would leave the table unfit for eating on.

“I wouldn’t be likely to tell you if I was,” he countered. “You need to take better care of yourself and use your head.”

“That’s why you’re going to spank me?”

“Yes.” He waited, expecting a refusal, or at the very least, a protest as to why he shouldn’t. When nothing came, he pressed his hand to her back, directing her to bend over further.

She turned her face away from him and complied without a word.

He took a moment to let his eyes enjoy the full, luscious curve of her cheeks before he raised his hand. He brought it smacking down on her bottom a moment later, and the feel of his hand cracking down on that beautiful ass made his jeans uncomfortably tight. He took a minute to shake his head and clear his thoughts. The only thing he needed to concentrate on right now was Georgia, and her discipline. He wasn’t a man who believed in half-measures.