Page 23 of Scarlett's Mountain Man
“Yes, Little bit I have noticed you waking up in the night.” His voice is soft, like he is trying to help me to stop worrying.
“Why haven’t you said anything?” I ask, turning to look at him.
“I don’t want to scare by moving, so I stay silent, listening out for if you can’t breathe or need me to hold you. I also didn’t want to invade your space if you don’t want to be touched. Some people don’t like to be touched after a nightmare,” Daddy explains. “But it kills me every single time. I want to come over and hold you so you can let it all out. I want to hold you and rock you to calm you down. I want you close so I can fight everything that dares come toward you.”
Tears stream down my face as he says those words.
“Oh, Little bit. That didn’t mean to make you cry.” He cups my face with both hands. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. You’re okay. Daddy is right here.”
Before I know it, I’m on his lap with his arms around me. I grip onto his shirt, crying into his chest as he holds me tightly.
“I know, you’re okay. Daddy is right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I don’t know how long we sit there, but it is exactly what I need. To feel protected and loved. To feel like someone cares for me. To feel the heat coming from his skin, seeping into me.
“I thought you didn’t wake up,” I whisper.
I don’t know why the thought made me sad, but it did.
“I always wake up.” He kisses my forehead.
“Next time can you come to me?” I say after a couple of seconds.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like hours go by as I wait for his answer, but in reality, it’s just a couple of seconds.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressured to say yes.”
“I’m sure. Please,” I practically beg. “I think you sleeping in the bed with me will help,” I mumble, for once being brave to do something for me.
His body stills, and I close my eyes tightly.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” I rush out, pushing against him.
Daddy holds me tight, not letting me off his lap.
“Stop,” he commands.
I still, but I don’t meet his gaze.
“Look at Daddy.”
I look at his chest.
“Look at Daddy,” he repeats.
“I am,” I reply.
“In the eyes,” he growls.
I look up at him, making eye contact.
“When I say look at Daddy, I mean this.”
“How was I supposed to know? I don’t want to assume. That makes an ass out of you and me. And you said look at you, and technically I was looking at you,” I reply with sass.
My eyes go wide as I stare at him, not believing I actually said that out loud. But I’m not going to back down now. No way, I said it, and I was going to stick by it.
“Really?” he asks.
