Page 33 of Bound to the Daddy

Without waiting for a response, he walks back over to his side of the desk and begins working, as if he knows I’ll just obey him without fuss. Unfortunately, he’s right. Writing sentences is really not so much of a hardship considering everything he’s doing for me.

A heavy sigh slips through my lips as I work on my assignment, doing my best to take the words to heart. But I can’t. It’s not that they’re so very difficult to write, but the sentiment hurts. I’ve been on my own for so long now that I don’t know how to ask for help.

As I told him before, I don’t try to be stubborn for the hell of it. Depending on others means you’re stuck when they leave you or die. When my parents passed on, I had to grow up so quickly. I was left with bills, debts, and things to work through. I can’t let myself get caught like that again.

“Yo, Pops, there’s this nail tech looking for a place to- Steph?”

I look up to see Brody walking into the room. Ashamed of what his father’s making me do, I flip the paper over. But of course, Mr. Rothsbourne sees me. At least his smile makes me think he’s amused.

For a moment, my heart flutters. Perhaps Brody will rethink his position, and I won’t have to lean on Mr. Rothsbourne. “What are you doing here?” I manage to squeak out.

Mr. Rothsbourne leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Yes. What are you doing here? I thought you were away in meetings all this week. Don’t tell me your company has gone under already. And it was so promising, too.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You keep cracking those jokes, old man. Digital currency is the way of the future. We’re going to make you obsolete.”

“You can certainly try.”

Tension swirls between the two as I step forward and open my arms to give Brody a hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I’m actually really happy.”

As I take another step, he thrusts his hands forward. “Same, babe. But you don’t want to hug me right now. I’m only back for a bit. Our plane broke down and left us stranded in the heat. I’m only here to shower, then I’m right back out.”

“Oh.” I can feel my face fall despite the fact that I’m trying my hardest to keep a smile on my lips.

Shaking his head, he balls up his fist and bumps it against my shoulder. “Come on. Don’t be sad. Where’s my smile? Hmm? My pretty girl always has her pretty smile. I’m sorry I missed you, but I’ll send a car for you to take you out when I get back.”

“No need,” Mr. Rothsbourne says, a grin easing up his lips. “She’s staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“Babe.” The slight whine to his voice grates on my nerves. “I thought we agreed. Let’s not ruin this good thing between us. Hmmm? What happened to that convo?”

“She’s not staying in the guest house. She’s staying in the south wing.”

His eyes widen as his mouth falls open. “But that’s Mom’s wing.”

“No, it’s not. It hasn’t been since she left. You know that. Besides, when she told me your guest house was not available for her to use, I figured why not let her stay there? Unless you changed your mind?”

Am I crazy? Or is there a hint of something else to his tone? A bite that wasn’t there before. My heart flutters at this unspoken challenge, and I find it very hard to look away.

It’s as if he’s fighting for me, but why? What makes me so damned important? Tears burn in my eyes as I watch the two men size each other up.

When was the last time someone fought for me? Never. Not since my parents died. It takes every ounce of willpower for me to not break down as I watch Brody’s reaction.

For a moment, his gaze shifts about, refusing to look at either of us. “No,” he eventually sighs. “It hasn’t changed. The south wing is definitely nicer than the guest house. I’m happy she’ll be comfortable there.”

That’s it? No fight back? No, nothing?

But then my brain clicks into place, rehashing what Brody just said. Now, I feel even worse than before. Though Mr. Rothsbourne mentioned it, my brain didn’t really latch onto the fact that it belonged to Brody’s mom.

“I didn’t realize,” I blurt out, guilt slamming into me. “I didn’t know your mom… I didn’t… Look, you can have the south wing, and I’ll take the guest house then. If it was your mom’s…”

His dark chuckle washes along my skin, but somehow, it lacks the intensity of his father’s. “I’m happy where I am. I don’t bother Daddy-O, and he doesn’t bother me. But yeah. Gotta go. Time’s ticking. Glad you found a place, though. Where do you want me to set the nail tech up, Pops?”

“Have her come here.”

“Right. Bye doll,” he calls out, waving as he leaves. “See you in a few weeks.”

Before I can even respond, he’s out the door, leaving me alone with Mr. Rothsbourne. As if he doesn’t even care about the situation that just unfolded, he picks up my notebook and skims my work. “Not that many lines.”

“Sorry. I’m trying. I’m just far more used to typing than handwriting stuff.”

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