Page 35 of Wild Daddy

"What?"

"I think you're scared to write what you really learned because it means admitting that everything you've been taught about success and intelligence is wrong."

The words hit too close to home. "I can't just—"

"Can't what? Can't disappoint them? Can't risk failure? Can't trust yourself to know what's right for your own life?"

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple." He pulls me to my feet and backs me against the nearest tree, his hands braced on either side of my head. "You want to know what's complicated? Spending the rest of your life doing something that makes you miserable because you're too scared to disappoint people who don't even see who you really are."

"And who am I really?" The question comes out as a whisper, and it’s not rhetorical. I want to know. I want him to give me the answer.

"You know the answer to that, just as I do. You're brave. You're curious. You're smart enough to question everything, including the path other people laid out for you." He twirls my hair between his long fingers like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "You're the kind of woman who kisses strangers at weddings and follows them into the wilderness. You're the kind of woman who learns to skip stones and laughs like she means it. You're the kind of woman who could change the world if you stopped trying to live up to everyone else's expectations."

The words make something crack open in my chest, something that has been locked away for so long I've forgotten it exists.

"I don't know how to be that person," I whisper.

"That's okay." He leans down to kiss me, soft and sweet. "That's what Daddy's for."

When he pulls back, there are tears on my cheeks that I don't remember crying.

"Hey," he says, wiping them away with his thumbs. "What's this about?"

"I just..." I struggle to find words for the feeling overwhelming me. "I never knew I was allowed to want different things. I never knew I was allowed to just... be. I don’t know, it feels like I’m spinning and I can’t stop it."

"I’ve got you. You are spinning but it will stop. I’ll make sure. You're allowed everything, little girl." He pulls me against his chest, and I bury my face in his flannel shirt. "You're allowed to want things that don't make sense on paper. You're allowed to change your mind. You're allowed to choose a life that makes you happy instead of one that looks good in Christmas letters."

I cry against his chest—ugly, messy tears for the childhood I've never had, for the dreams I've never been allowed to chase, for the person I've never been allowed to be.

And he holds me through all of it, one hand stroking my hair while he murmurs reassurances against the top of my head.

"That's it," he says softly. "Let it out. You're safe. Daddy's got you."

When the tears finally stop, I feel empty and full at the same time. Empty of all the expectations and pressure I've been carrying. Full of possibility I've never allowed myself to consider.

"Better?" he asks.

"Different." I pull back to look at him. "Like I'm not the same person who drove into Wildfire in her little Honda.”."

"You're not." He cups my face in his hands. "The question is, who do you want to be now?"

Nine

Marley

The soreness between my legs reminds me with every step how I asked for Cade to show me as many positions as he could throughout the night.

For research purposes.

We got to ten and I lost count of the orgasms. I ended up passing out and that’s when Cade said enough was enough. He hydrated me, put some warm, wet cloths on my battered baby maker, then tucked me in next to him where I slept until I woke up with him squeezing my tits together, spitting on me then shoving that Ever-ready hard-on of his between my tits until he told me to open wide and gave me my morning protein drink.

I’m learning so much about the wilderness. And the wild Daddy that lives in it.

Now, as we walk, Cade teaching me today about what is edible in the forest, which includes grubs apparently. I refused when he pulled a wiggling white worm out of a rotten log, and thank goodness, he didn’t do the whole ‘I’m going to feed you and you’re going to eat’ exercise again.

He’s left the poor little grub on the ground, deciding not to indulge in the snack himself, then took my hand and lead me deeper into the woods. The forest feels like a cathedral, golden sunlight filtering through the canopy. My boots crunch on fallen needles and twigs as I follow Cade along what barely qualifies as a trail.

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