by Olivia Fox
Daddy’s Pet
Olivia Fox
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Scarlett
Here’s the funny thing, the final straw wasn’t my ex’s cheating. It was my damn dog, Toby.
His Nibs curled himself into a tight, furry ball and lie on top of a thick covering of straw where we kept vigil with Midnight, who pawed the stall floor and lifted his upper lip toward the barn roof. Midnight’s expression would be comical if it didn’t symbolize a symptom of his pain.
“Where is that damn vet?”
Midnight had spaced out all day, staring off across the orchard, looking distracted and uncomfortable and not paying my mare Tzari any attention at all; just weird. Tzari occupied Midnight’s mind 24/7, and he refused to be apart from her, even just the twelve-foot distance across the brick-patterned center aisle between the barn stalls. I called the vet right away in case it was colic, a scary and potentially deadly, horse specific tummy ache. Midnight didn’t paw the ground, or look at his stomach, but when I listened to his belly, I discovered nothing. Vet time.
We waited for Dr. Farley in the beautiful horse barn where, its rough-sawn redwood timber glowed beneath the center aisle lamps. Was it sad if a building was my most prized possession? Behind the glimmer of the lights, the huge rectangular ceiling windows let in the purply blue hue of twilight that painted a backdrop on the windowpane. The barn, the ranch, and Toby were hands down the three best things to come out of my marriage.
Darren, better known as “Darwood”—aka “Philandering Fuck”—had done me a favor that fateful day three years ago, running over Toby and refusing to stop and check on the poor, wounded doggie.
He’d said, “Calm down. He’ll be fine. It’s just a dog, anyway.” And he kept on driving.
Toby became my new and improved man the day I went back for him. Finding him on the side of the road in a patch of shade under the blooming lupin, back leg broken and gravel burns on his tummy. From that day forward, Toby expressed a kind of loyalty toward me that Darwood lacked. I’d filed for divorce the next day.
Midnight’s nervous shifting brought me back to the present. When would the vet get here? I ran my hand over the Midnight’s sweaty flank. Something isn’t right. That final thought crossed my mind before leaning down and listening to my horse’s stomach for healthy digestive noises. Hearing none, I pressed my ear more firmly against him, and the edge of Midnight’s hoof clipped my head and knocked me the hell out.
When I came to, I enjoyed the most wonderful sensation of having my hair pet and stroked like a little girl. It accompanied the most soothing, timbered voice I ever heard. “That’s it, sweetie, open your eyes. Let me see your pupils.” The interior barn light shone overhead, backlighting his features so that his face disappeared. Even without the visual, my imagination filled in all the blanks, inspired by those raspy and relaxing words. “Easy now. Not too fast.”
Am I dead? Is he an angel? He sure as heck wasn’t Dr. Farley.
“Dr. Farley? Where is…?” My voice sounded so weak. I couldn’t remember the last time someone tried to take care of me, so he had that going in his favor. Not only that, there was that voice of his. Like catnip to my pussy, making me aware of things I thought no longer possible as I lay on his jean-covered lap. Oh my, Midnight had a competitor in the room for the brag-worthy johnson category. Jeez.
“Midnight?” My head muddled; I almost forgot the most important thing. I tried to sit up, but my aching head advised otherwise, and I collapsed back onto the stranger’s warm thighs beneath me.
Aiden
What a gorgeous ranch. The barn glowed from within as twilight descended. The huge building made me wonder who else lived here besides the woman who called in her horse’s colic. Dr. Farley let me know that Ms. Scarlett Barsanti was unattached—made a point of repeating it several times in fact. No way she managed this place on her own.
Impossible.
“Ms. Barsanti?” I called from the front of the barn. No answer. The barn itself was nicer than some houses I’d visited here on the Lost Coast. It smelled of clean straw, the intoxicating scent of equine, and a tinge of sweet oats. Wrought-iron-accented stalls lined either side of the huge middle aisle, paved with brick in a herringbone pattern. From the end of the barn, I heard the frantic scratching and whining of a distressed dog. I rushed to the source of the sound and saw her there, out cold on the floor of the stall, also occupied by a huge black gelding. The splay of her hair matched the straw bedding.
Dear God, please. Please let her be breathing. I’d had enough training to beat back the snapping canines of my somatic response that kicked into gear over seeing a woman unconscious on the floor. It didn’t take a genius to understand why this would raise the protective hackles on my back more than the average male.
Not her, I told myself. Not Mom, and Dad is nowhere near. He can’t get me. I’m safe. “Talking down my tiger” they called it in resiliency-based trauma therapy. I reminded myself that I wasn’t a helpless tiny kid at his mercy, trying to protect Mom and failing all over again.
My childhood was mission impossible from the get-go. However, the attractive woman on the floor breathed steadily, and there was no sign of blood, only a respectable goose egg on her forehead.
She woke up on my lap, shortly after I put her there. The first thing she asked about was her horse, and her alertness reassured me. I sat with her to make sure she stayed awake, and pet her hair back from her forehead. We would definitely need to get her checked out by a doctor right away. I positioned her against the wall and hustled to deal with the horse’s stomachache. “Don’t worry, Scarlett. Looks like a mild case of colic.” I talked to her while doctoring, “He’s had some mineral oil and a laxative and will be fine.” I turned towards her and reached down to help her up, “Now we need to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“I’m okay, really, other than the throbbing knot on my head.”
Her lashes lifted and her eyes met mine as she gently rubbed the hoof imprint, and I was trapped. A part of me stirred that had been sound asleep since Emma and I broke up. Some would call it abnormal for a guy my age to be not only unmarried but also celibate. The Daddy Dom existence, having someone to take care of, gave me purpose and made hard days easier. Plus, I’d always adored spoiling any baby girl I dated. But I had to let Emma go, because there her newfound religious obsession with the fiery hell of eternity came between us. She met a minister who drilled the importance of being saved by accepting Jesus – and he asked her to marry him.
At first it was like a regular breakup, and I filled the time with activities and ignored the pain. Soon enough, I realized switching back to life as a single male was rough. The stash of too many dinosaur nuggets in my freezer—her favorite—and hidden in my closet - a ton of presents I planned to surprise her with. The general disconnect from people and society because my princess no longer lit up my life anymore. It was the worst breakup I’d ever had, even though we parted on good terms.
My eyes fell to the helpless woman in my lap, my final patient. Scarlett Barsanti needed my assistance. I was tired as hell from taking care of animals and their humans all day, but had one more job to do.
The straw rustled
beneath my arms as I slid them under her knees and shoulders. “Looks like I’m not done with you yet,” I said, and instinctually thought the unspoken term of affection Little One.
She squirmed in my arms, which I found inappropriately stimulating, given the gravity of the situation. Hospital. I needed to take her to the hospital.
“Hey!” she said. “What are you doing? Where are we going?”
The faithful hound followed us out the stall door and trotted at my side. “I’m carrying you to my truck. We’ll get that nasty bump on your head checked out.”
“Hospital?” She struggled in my arms as if to break free from my embrace, “Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m fine. It’s a minor bump on the head.”
“I can’t sleep leaving you here alone after finding you unconscious. What happened anyway?” As we approached the tall, double doors of the barn entrance, there were short pieces of hay pricking me through my shirt where her body touched mine.
“I was listening to midnight’s tummy and he must have been trying to make the hurt go away. When he kicked his belly, he accidentally connected with my forehead. He didn’t mean to.”
“I get it. What’s the dog’s name?” Distraction sometimes served as the best offense with littles.
“Toby. Can we bring him?” She looked down at the medium-sized dog who sat politely in front of us at the truck door, one black-tipped ear pointed toward the heavens, the other flopping toward the ground. I set Scarlett on the front seat and opened the back cab door for Toby.
She had my attention, holding her like this was almost snuggling, and my soft Dom tendencies reacted, making me want to fulfill her every need. The response was misplaced given that I just met the girl, but my instinct to make it all okay was kicking in with her. If she needed her pup, well then, her pup she would have. One thing I was not soft on was her having a proper examination. On that note, I stood firm.
Scarlett
Good lord. It would be just like me to be near a desirable male for the first time in years, smelling of horse sweat and manure. Even though man candy was the last thing I needed, the God-given vision he presented to my eyes made up for the fact that I had lain on his lap like a helpless female.
Shoot, had I ever been within roping range of a male so fine? He carried me to his truck, arranged Toby in the back on a pile of jackets, and reached across me to fasten my seat belt, clueless of the effect his inner forearm had when it came into contact with my nipples. What had come over me? Divinely handsome dude insisted on taking me to get my head examined. His bossiness was way too control-freaky for me.
“Hey, where is Dr. Farley, anyway?” The good old doc was old for sure—polar opposite on the age spectrum from Dr. Dreamy here. But I wasn’t looking for a man, no matter how good looking. After Darwood, I swore off men forever. And ever.
“He got stuck out at Shelter Cove helping a mama calve her baby. Hard labor. Took way longer than expected. So I’m taking his local calls tonight. As of last month, we share the practice.”
I bounced my knee instead of looking at the ropy ridges on his forearms that rippled as he turned the steering wheel. Nope, definitely not checking out those ridges. “I’m fine. It’s unnecessary to take me to the hospital. Promise it’ll be okay if you just take me home.” Definitely not noting how huge his hands were. What a delicious light brown color his skin was on the back of those hands, dusted by golden hair. Definitely not noticing.
“Ha! Not. Gonna. Happen.”
Not observing either how that deep voice was coaxing my lady bits as if crooking its beckoning finger at her to come out and play.
Ugh. What was my issue?
He used the car phone to call a buddy of his and ensure that we’d see someone right away, instead of waiting in the emergency room. Opening my door, he moved as if to scoop me into his arms again.
I rushed to say, “Uh, that’s unnecessary. I can walk.”
Next thing I knew, those admirable arms lifted me off the seat and held me against his rock-solid chest. “Yeah, I get it, you can walk. But it’s unnecessary. Things will go a lot easier for you, Scarlett, if you just accept that I’m in charge.” On that note, he scooped me up in his arms and told Toby, “Stay.” He turned toward the hospital, and I hoped to goodness nobody saw me like this, while appreciating his kindness toward my canine, before he shut the door behind us. “Good boy.”
“He’ll be okay. He enjoys sleeping in the car. It’s like a safe cave for him,” I said, and without realizing it, rested my head against his shoulder as if it belonged there. I guess getting knocked out by the kicking end of a gelding took a bigger toll on me than I understood.
“Something tells me, even though you can slay your own dragons, inside you there is a girl who enjoys being protected. Even though you don’t want to admit it.”
My heart thudded heavy against my ribs at his words. I needed to get away from Dr. Dreamy as soon as possible, before my vow of chastity was toast.
Aiden
FOUR HOURS LATER
I insisted that Scarlett have someone stay with her and follow Doctor Bakshi’s orders. He released Scarlett, saying there were no signs of a serious head injury. Scarlett called her friend Roxy who agreed to come over and stay with her to ensure she remained alert, moved normally, and was responsive.
I had a few ideas in mind to get Scarlett to “respond” all right, but they weren’t fitting for a baby girl recently conked on the head by a creature twelve times her size. Roxy arrived, tucked Scarlett into bed with a cup of tea, and walked back out to the kitchen where I hovered at the counter.
“Mind if I stop by a time or two and see how she’s doing?”
Roxy raised her eyebrows and gave me a crooked smile, the next couple days it would be her job to watch for headache, confusion, nausea, dizziness, and excessive fatigue. I was having a hard time leaving and entrusting Scarlett to someone else’s care. “Will you stay in her room so you can hear if anything is amiss?”
She nudged me, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her and make sure she isn’t sleeping too much over the next couple of days. If she has symptoms of any kind, I’ll take her to the hospital. I might be tiny, but I’m hard to refuse. She doesn’t stand a chance against me.”
My body was rebelling. After an interminable day, I wanted nothing more than to hit the mattress, but my protective side had other ideas. “Will you call me if anything goes wrong?” I rubbed my face several times and looked into Roxy’s eyes, trying to impart the seriousness of the matter.
Roxy’s eyes were squinting back at me, “I promise. I’ll make sure she’s okay, and if anything happens I promise to call. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s getting late and pregnant people need a lot of sleep.” She patted her belly for emphasis.
“Sorry,” I felt the grittiness behind my eyelids, “I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard to leave. I’m just worried about her I guess. Seeing her like that, lying on the barn floor…”
Roxy kindly patted me on the shoulder, “No need to explain. Scarlett’s special. She tends to get under your skin.”
It was an odd thing to say, coming from a friend. But I realized, she was absolutely right. The girl had gotten her hooks in me.
Scarlett
Two Days Later
I sat on the couch, at Roxy’s insistence, a fake fur throw wrapped around me and my slippered feet curled up under my thighs. Toby lay dutifully in front of me gnawing on a raw hide. My bossy friend hadn’t allowed me to lift a finger during my two days of mandatory recovery, and this third day was just for good measure according to her. A steady dose of Tylenol kept the forehead throbbing at bay, and I didn’t have other symptoms, which left me plenty of time to ponder the unfamiliar way my skin tingled every time I remembered Sir-Hunk-a-Lot carrying me into the hospital. “So, what’d you think of Dr. Holly, anyway? I’ve been dying to ask but wanted to respect your recuperation period.” Roxy’s eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief while she wiped down the counter. Her ability to s
ense what I was thinking was uncanny.
I considered her question and realized, for the first time in a very long time, I experienced the heady sensation of being appreciated as a woman. Me – Ms. Rubber Boot Wearing, animal feeding, dusty jodhpur sporting, Scarlett had been admired for the first time in a very long time, and it made me imagine the kinds of delicious things he might to do me. Instead I said, “He was nice to admire and all, and hey, I have nothing against penises in general,” I waved my hand in a circular motion, in the general direction of all the penises in existence, “It’s just the complications that go along with what’s attached to that penis. No thanks.”
“Oh oh.” She stopped wiping and drew her elbows into her sides like a chicken standing in the rain. I recognized that expression, and her words rolled out so fast there was no interrupting her, “I knew you needed help around here this weekend so I asked if he was available. Not to worry. I had Buck check his record at the station. Clean as a whistle. Aiden also has a sister who used to be on the force with Buck,” Roxy scrubbed the counter hard enough to rub a hole in it. “She was in a terrible shoot out and Aiden helped her out for years, running her errands in town, taking her groceries. That has to say something about a person’s character, don’t you think?”
“Gee, thanks.” I flicked my gaze at her. “No criminal record. We have a real Prince Charming on our hands.”
“Listen, no big deal,” She raised both hands in the air, “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can find someone else to do it. Move a few things around with the kids so Buck can help out. I don’t get it though. I mean, how much more innocent can you get than feeding the animals together? What’s the worst that could happen?” She stood in front of the sink, and sprayed the faucet fixtures with glass cleaner, wiping it down until it shone.
