Chapter Two

Willow

See?

I told you there was a big problem.

I'm not sure what he'd be to me. I mean, we aren't related or anything. And he won't be my father-in-law. He'll be my sister's.

But that's still gross. Right? I can't have a huge crush on my…whatever he'll be to me.

Here's the thing, though (and this complicates things even further): I know he's a Daddy.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know he's just the kind of guy I spend so much of my time dreaming about.

I'm from Oklahoma. My family lives in a little town north of Oklahoma City called Guthrie. It's cute. If you've never been, you should go. It's this quaint little Victorian place with a bunch of old buildings in a downtown that looks like something out of a Hallmark movie. But anyway, I currently live in Norman. It's where the university I attend is. It's also where Shawn Gardner (the super-hot Daddy I've been talking about) lives and practices medicine. Or performs surgery. I'm not sure what you'd call it. Anyway, he specializes in sports related injuries. But he doesn't only work on athletes. If you snap a bone, he's the guy who can patch you up.

Lately, I've been hanging out on the local Age Play scene. There's a pretty active community, though it isn't huge. The people are really nice! I've had some fun going to Littles' movie nights and skating parties and stuff like that.

Anyway…at one of the events, I saw Shawn.

And he was definitely there acting in a Daddy capacity. He didn't seem to have a Little of his own or anything, but he was helping out, chatting with Littles and other Bigs, and enjoying himself.

So see? That complicates things! It's not just some random guy I can forget about. It's a guy that I know is a Daddy! An honest-to-goodness freaking Daddy!

And I want him. Bad.

I can't have him though. Not here. Not now. Not anywhere or ever. It would be so wrong. It's not like he even wants me, anyway. Seriously, I wish you could see this guy. He's about two inches over six feet. He's lean with a lot of corded strength. Not one of those overly muscled guys, but he's really tone. He's tan, too. Not in a fake way. But naturally. He has black hair that's showing some silver on the sides, making him look rather distinguished.

And he actually is. It's not just a look.

He's on the board of various medical agencies and stuff. He's published in a lot of journals. He's active in community affairs. Trust me, I've stalked him online. I know all about him.

While he hasn't remarried since he and his wife divorced (twelve years ago and they're on friendly terms), he could easily have any woman he wanted. Ladies are probably lining up to get to this guy. He's that hot, that charismatic, and that rich. So yeah, he's checking a lot of boxes.

But the quality I'm most interested in is that he's a Daddy.

I'm staring at him from across the patio.

This place is nice. The Gulf is only a few yards away. I can see and hear the water lapping at the sandy shore. I can hear seagulls, too. There are a few boats in the distance. Away from the restaurant/event space are tourists enjoying the beach, but I can't really see them from where I'm at.

Shawn is at the buffet table, putting fresh fruit on his plate.

And I'm sitting at my table, staring at him, trying to be somewhat inconspicuous about it, but really struggling.

And apparently, failing.

"What are you gawking at?"

The question is posed by my sister, Chloe. I swivel my head toward her, realizing she's taken the seat next to me. She looks beautiful in her summer dress and her brown hair up with just a strand falling to the side. She's two years older than me, already out of college, and ready to become an actual adult. She's always been better at adulting than I am. But I'm happy for her.

"Nothing," I say. "Just staring off into space, I guess. Thinking."

"About what?"

Oh, just thinking about your soon-to-be father-in-law carrying me back to his room and teaching me all the things Daddies teach their little girls.

I can't say that, though.

"Just thinking about how happy I am for you."

I'm not lying. Well, not completely. I am truly happy for her. That's just not at the forefront of my mind right now.

"You sure you're not upset about Shelly being my maid of honor?"

I wave the question off. I'm not the least bit upset. Shelly's been her best friend since they were three years old. She's lived next door to us forever. It's only right she holds that role.

"Of course not. Shelly is your other sister."

"But you're my real sister."

"Chloe, it's really okay. You know I don't like to give speeches anyway."

Chloe laughs. "True."

"Shelly did good, though," I say.

"She's going to say something else tomorrow at the reception, of course," Chloe says. "She'll never pass up the chance to get in front of a mic."

I laugh. "She's always been a bit of a ham."

"Truth," Chloe says. "But I still love her. And I love you."

"Aww, sis. I love you, too."

Would she still love me if I banged her father-in-law? Not that it's really going to happen. But I can't help but wonder. Just like I can't help but think of him. Even as I talk to Chloe, I'm fighting the urge to shift my focus to Shawn.

Chloe stands. "Did you get plenty to eat?"

"Yep," I say.

"You going to dance? Kyle is pretty hot," she says, smirking as she mentions one of the groomsmen. "He's a bad dancer, but pretty hot." She laughs.

"You never know," I say.

She smiles wider, nods, and then turns away to mingle with her other guests.

I stay at the table and try to appear casual as I look around for Shawn. I don't see him, but I do see that groomsman Chloe was talking about. He is cute. I guess. If you're into that type. He's about twenty-five, strong, has an athletic build, and dark hair that's cut short. But I don't get Daddy vibes from him. And remember that whole age gap thing I mentioned? Yeah. I'm really into that.

Kyle sees me looking at him and grins, nodding slightly, and tips his beer toward me.

I smile pleasantly and wave. Great. I hope he doesn't get the wrong idea.

I quickly shift my gaze away and continue to scan the crowd. I see my two grandmas talking to each other. My mom and dad are chatting with a group of siblings and cousins. My Uncle Steve is standing alone, sour-faced, staring down at his shrimp. Everyone is wisely staying away from him, knowing he wants to gripe about the food and is just looking for someone to listen to his tirade. He has that reputation. The food is fine. But Steve is Steve.

There are folks I don't know—friends of Chloe's I'm unfamiliar with and friends of her fiancé, Braydon.

And then there's Shawn. Found him!

He's sitting at a table alone, casually eating pineapple and nursing a bottle of cold Corona.

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh.

I wish you could see how sexy this man is!

He's wearing a loose, thin white shirt. The buttons don't go very high. It's tasteful but the perfect beach choice. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His forearms look tight and bulging. Every now and then I can catch a glimpse of the top part of his chest. It's so lean and yummy.

Yummy, yummy, yummy.

Without really thinking about it, I stand up. I need to get closer to this man. What I really need to do is capture a pic to send to Riley. She's my best friend back home. She's also a Little.

I walk beneath the strings of lights overhead. They, combined with the pink and yellow setting sun, cast the patio in surreal colors. The ocean air is warm but pleasant. I can smell the salt in the water.

I don't go straight for Shawn's table. I can't be that overt. So, I sorta stay on the outskirts and act as nonchalantly as possible.

I hold my phone up like I'm just checking the screen and open my camera app. I'm about to take the pic when three people stop right in my direct line of sight and cut me off. I keep the phone up, like I'm still reading a message or something, and casually walk around them. I've got a better shot at the pic now.

I snap two as quickly as possible. I then check them, to make sure they're okay. They turned out well. Mmm. He looks yummy. Even just on my phone. I wish I could go to my hotel room, reach inside the screen, and yank him out for a night of fun.

I'm so lost in my fantasy that I don't see the toy truck my little cousin Aiden left on the ground. My right foot hits it and I skid forward, losing control. My phone flies from my hand. I don't know where it lands, but I have bigger problems to worry about. I'm about to go down hard!

And then I'm not.

Just like that, Shawn is up and in front of me, catching me as I flail my arms while my feet start to fly out backwards.

Oh my gosh, can this be any more embarrassing?

But maybe it's worth it. As I feel Shawn's powerful arms bumping against my body—his hands on my waist to steady me—I realize just how wonderful his touch is.

This is as far as it will go. This is all I get.

But yeah, that momentary embarrassment was totally worth it.

Except my embarrassment is turning into outright humiliation. Because he's set me back on my feet and is still being a gentleman, picking up my phone. The only problem is the screen is still unlocked. As he hands it back to me, he sees the picture of himself.

He knows what's going on. Knows exactly why I took that pic.

Oh. Shit.