Chapter Seven

Willow

"I'm sorry we can't make that flight," Shawn says.

"It's okay," I say, trying to sound disappointed. Of course, I'm not. Far from it! But I can't let him know that. "I'm sorry you have to give me a ride home."

"Don't be," he says. "We should have thought about this anyway and saved y'all some money. I'm heading to Norman. You're heading to Norman. It just makes sense."

He's right. What doesn't make sense, however, is how hard I'm freaking crushing over this man! Just sitting next to him has my panties soaked.

I can't think of what to say so I just keep my mouth shut. That's probably best. Inside, I'm wanting to confess my undying love for him and ask him to be my Daddy forever and ever, but that might be overkill. Just a little bit. A few minutes go by and I just keep my eyes pointed out the window, watching southern Texas fly past.

"It was a beautiful wedding," he finally says.

"Perfect," I say. "Simple. Short and sweet."

"You don't like big and long?" he says.

I giggle.

He chuckles and takes his eyes off the road long enough to shoot me a smirk. "I really didn't mean it like that. I'm talking about weddings. You don't like the long, lavish ones?"

I'm still giggling now, feeling silly for doing so, and covering my mouth. His eyes are forward once again, watching the road.

Finally, I recover enough to say, "Weddings are kind of boring. I know I'm supposed to like them, being a girl. But they're not my thing."

"We have that in common. Don't get me wrong—this was my boy's wedding. Of course I loved it. But I'll take short and sweet any day," Shawn says.

Before I can stop myself, I turn in my seat until I'm facing him, giggling as I say, "I'll take big and long." I put my hands on his arms and squeeze his biceps.

Oh my gosh! What am I doing? That was totally inappropriate and so wrong! But it's as if I can't control my actions right now. I'm going crazy! Seriously, I can feel heat radiating between my legs. My pussy is aching. I've probably soaked through my panties and denim shorts.

"Willow," he says softly.

Oh shit. Here it comes. He's going to tell me I'm ridiculous. Will he tell my parents? I'm an adult, sure, but what would they think if they knew I came onto him like that?

What is wrong with me? I've only been in this truck forty minutes and I can't contain myself.

Shit!

I scoot far away from him and turn the other direction, staring out the window as if nothing happened.

And then I see it. My out. Maybe this can help us move past the awkwardness.

"Buc-ee's!" I say, half of my excitement genuine and half fake. "Can we stop? Please?"

For a moment I'm worried he's going to tell me no and then tell me off over that inappropriate remark. But when I work up enough nerve to sneak a peek at him, he's smiling.

"Sure," he says.

Maybe he's ready to move on and ignore what I said just as much as I am.

He exits the highway and pulls into the lot of the massive convenience store. Well, if you can call it a convenience store. Have you ever been to a Buc-ee's? They're huge and they have everything you can imagine. Or just about. That's what I've been told, at least.

I hurry out of my seatbelt and throw the door open, but a sharp call from Shawn stops me from actually sliding out of the truck.

"Hold it, little girl."

So, in case you're wondering, hearing him call me little girl abso-freaking-lutely makes my panties get even wetter. I was already worried I have a huge freaking spot on them. Now I'm certain I do. Ugh.

"What?" I say.

"You stay close to me. It's busy here and there's a ton of people coming and going. Don't wander off by yourself. Do as I tell you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I say.

He nods. "Good girl. Now you may get out of the truck."

My flip-flops hit the hot pavement and I'm instantly baking. The Texas summer heat isn't the biggest of my worries, though. I tug my shirt down as far as it'll go, hoping that if I do have a giant wet spot, it'll at least be covered.

I'm giddy as we near the doors.

"Is this your first time ever coming to a Buc-ee's?" Shawn asks.

"Uh-huh. I was worried I wouldn't get to. I flew here and took an Uber from the airport, so I didn't have a chance to stop at one."

"It's quite an experience. Come on."

For a moment, I think he's going to grab my hand. Unfortunately, he doesn't. But he does stay close as we walk in side-by-side. So close that I can feel the warmth from his body. I feel so protected in his shadow.

Inside, there are people everywhere, but it still somehow feels organized. Shawn grabs a shopping cart—because those are a thing at this gas station—and we start perusing the aisles.

"Get anything you want," he says.

"I don't have much money," I counter.

"I do. So grab anything you want."

I try my hardest to shove any notion that this is Daddy taking his baby girl on a shopping trip from my mind. I don't want to read too much into this. But the way he's acting, I swear he's struggling with the same thoughts.

This place has more beef jerky than I've ever seen, but that's not really my thing. I guess it's Daddy's, because he grabs a few packs and throws them in the basket.

I mean Shawn.

Gosh! I have to stop this! What if I mess up and accidentally call him Daddy out loud?

"Have you had beaver nuggets?" he asks.

I giggle. "What are those?"

"Here," he says, picking up a bag and tossing them to me. "Sweet treats. Kind of like dry cereal, I guess, but better. You want them?"

"Sure," I say.

He nods and then puts a few more packs in the basket to go along with the one I just dropped in.

He notices me eyeing the sodas. "Do you want one?" he asks with a knowing grin.

"Yes!"

"Let's go get the biggest one you can," he says.

I take off running toward it but a sharp command to stop halts me before I get too far.

"What did I say about staying close to me?"

"Sorry," I say. "I just got excited."

"Being excited is fine. Disobeying is not. Stay with me," he says.

He almost called me little girl again but stopped himself before uttering the term. I can tell.

After I get my soda, I go to the candy aisle. I look hesitantly at Shawn before putting some fruity gummy treats in the basket. He just smiles and nods.

"Aren't doctors supposed to preach against this sort of stuff?" I ask.

"Everything in moderation," he says.

I look at the basket full of junk food. "This is definitely not moderation."

"Hey, it's okay to indulge every now and then."

I size him up for a moment before smirking and asking, "Only in candy or does that apply to other things?"

Okay, I'm laying it on thick. But just like my comment in the truck earlier, I can't help myself. I just kind of blurted that out before I had a chance to think it through.

If he minds, he doesn't say anything.

"Oh there are other things I indulge in," he says. His smirk matches mine when he adds, "But you're too young to know about such." He winks.

I giggle and turn my attention back to the candy. I reach for some more but stop. Shawn steps closer.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to spend too much of your money."

"I have plenty."

The declaration doesn't come across as bragging. He's simply stating a fact. I admire his honesty.

"But that doesn't mean you want to spend it on me," I say.

"I'll decide what I want to spend it on. But if it makes you feel any better, I like spoiling you. I don't have a Little in my life. Getting to do this for you is—" He stops, realizing he'd let his guard down and had openly addressed the giant elephant in the room.

Or maybe I should say giant beaver since we're at Buc-ee's.

"I probably shouldn't have—"

"It's okay," I say. "We've both been thinking about it."

He smiles apologetically. "Just pick your candy and whatever else you want."

I look over to a round table in the center of the store. There's a huge plush doll of their mascot—the beaver in his red shirt and matching ball cap—surrounded by a bunch of smaller versions.

"Can I get a stuffie?" I ask.

"Of course!" he says.

I select some more candy and then pick a stuffie.

"He's so cute!" I say, hugging him.

"Like you," Shawn mumbles.

That wasn't intended for me to hear. I try my best to act as if I didn't, but seriously—my insides are tingling!

"You need to tinkle before we go," he says.

"I'm fine," I say.

"Nope. We have a long drive ahead. We can stop if you need to. But it would be easier if you do it now. Especially before you drink that large soda. You'll have to go again soon enough, but no reason to rush it."

I think of protesting but nod and say, "Yes, sir."

He seems pleased by my obedience.

Typical Daddy.

"I'll watch our stuff," he says. "Don't talk to anyone. Do what you need to do and come right out."

He's so protective. What does he think is going to happen to me in a public ladies' room? But once again I obey and am out two minutes later.

"I need to run to the men's room," he says. "Stay right here with the basket. Don't move an inch. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," I say.

He looks at me like I need to revise my answer to yes sir, but he doesn't push it. I think he already feels guilty about acknowledging I'm a Little, like he'd crossed a line or something. He simply goes into the restroom, leaving me to wait.

People are all around me. They're buying everything from snacks to toys and clothes. One guy even has some camping gear.

Yes, this is a gas station that sells camping gear.

And toys.

Ooh! Lots and lots of toys! Like a whole aisle and they look fun!

I wander toward them and marvel at them. I'm so lost in thought that Shawn has to call my name twice before I realize he's out.

I turn, hold up a rubber duck, and say, "Can I get this too, please?"

I stop short of calling him Daddy, but just barely.

The look on his face tells me he isn't in the mood to see the toy. That's when I realize what I've done.

Shawn's eyes are smoldering.

I've been disobedient. And he doesn't look like the sort to put up with it.

Not if that expression on his face is telling the truth.

Yikes!