Georgia's Daddy by Dinah McLeod

Author:Dinah McLeod [McLeod, Dinah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2016-09-28T21:00:00+00:00

“Georgia? Did we lose you?”

She came out of her memories with a gasp, her cheeks flushing as she realized that both Gran and Sam were looking at her. How long, she wondered, had they been trying to talk to her while she’d sat, reliving what had happened not even an hour ago?

“Gran asked if you want some dessert.”

“Oh. Yes, please.”

“One moment, dear. I’ll get you a plate.”

When Gran had gotten up and busied herself in the kitchen, Sam met Georgia’s eyes, grinning. “Somethin’ on your mind, darlin’?”

“No,” she denied, blushing hotter.

“Careful, now,” he teased. “You know what happens to naughty girls who tell fibs.”

“I… I think I’m feeling a bit… dizzy. Maybe I should just—”

His hand stretched across the distance that separated them and he took hers in his, squeezing. “You should have more protein,” he instructed. “And a glass of water. Gran, can you get Georgia some more of your roast, please? And a glass of water?”

“My hands are a mite full, Samuel.”

He stood to his feet at once. “I’ll come.”

“No, Sam, you—”

He gave her a look that silenced her protest at once. “Let me take care of you. Okay? That’s our agreement. Besides—I like my job.” He gave her a wink and then he was off. He and Gran returned in tandem minutes later. Sam put down a new portion of roast in front of her, along with more carrots and potatoes. “Eat.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m stuffed.”

He arched his brows at her, and suddenly, she got an image of being bent over the table right then and there and having her already red bottom exposed for his grandmother to see. She knew that wouldn’t give her boyfriend one moment’s pause before he painted her red all over again. And somehow, she’d forgotten her panties in his Shed of Discipline, so she wouldn’t even have that to spare her modesty.

With that picture in her mind, she picked up her fork and she ate. Sam and Gran kept up a pleasant conversation—he steered it away from football, and just as often she tried to bring it back—and when she’d eaten just over half, she pushed back her plate.

Sam looked from it to her and smiled. “Now the water, please.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. She felt a little silly being ordered around in such a way in front of his grandmother.

“Would you like dessert, hon?”

Stuffed or not, Georgia always had room for dessert. Except that when she looked at the pie container—she’d been too focused on her roast and veggies before to notice—she saw that it was rhubarb pie. For some reason, the color reminded her of what her bottom had looked like in the one glimpse of it she’d dared to sneak when she’d excused herself to the restroom.

“No, ma’am. Not today. Thank you for dinner, though.”

“Thank you for coming. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’re here with us.”

“All right, Gran. Put a hold on plannin’ the wedding, will you? I need to get her home.

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