by Maggie Ryan
She realized he'd had to repeat his question. "What do you think?" he asked again as the tip of his tongue reached into the corner of his mouth to remove the last bit of frosting from the roll.
"Ummm … think?" she asked, hesitantly, "Think about what?"
Craig grinned as he looked down at her. "Do you think apologies are in order?" he asked, picking up his juice glass without looking and finishing the remains.
Barbara's face slowly began to heat with both embarrassment and anger. "For your information," she hissed softly, "I've already apologized to everyone."
"I'm afraid you misunderstood," Craig said, loving the fire his question had invoked. "I meant does the chef have reason to apologize for the roll?"
Barbara's mind whirled as she tried to follow his conversation. "The roll?" she asked, her eyes showing her confusion.
"Yes," Craig said, as if unaware that he was playing with her. "It is my belief that, while the roll was good, it seems to be missing something that would make it all it should be. Do you agree?"
Barbara shook her head as if to clear it. She had no idea what he was talking about. "I think it was good … maybe a bit too much cinnamon, and it could be better with a tiny bit of orange zest to make the flavor pop," she suggested and then jumped a bit in her chair when he snapped his huge fingers and spoke loudly.
"Exactly!" he agreed. Barbara tore her eyes from his to look around the table to see if anyone else thought this man was a bit crazy. She saw her family and friends nodding as if he had just spoken great words of infinite wisdom. She flushed a bit, wondering what they must think about the apology part of the conversation, knowing they were unaware of what had transpired in the parking lot. Thinking about the spanking caused her cheeks to color deeper. She found her attention returning to him, opening her lips when he held up a bite of roll to her mouth. She accepted it, chewing slowly as if in a daze.
"A truly great cinnamon roll should be so decadent that it makes you swoon," Craig said as she turned to gaze at him again. "It should make you feel such anticipation that you almost quiver with excitement before you even open your mouth for that first taste. It should be sweet, but not too cloying. It should glisten with just the perfect amount of frosting that seems to melt onto your tongue the moment your lips close around it," he continued. Every woman at the table was staring at him, listening to his words and easily picturing them in another context. "It should practically beg you to eat it, the taste flooding your mouth, though you know it is sinful to enjoy it so much. Though it might fill you with guilt, it is that sweet feeling of being just the tiniest bit naughty, the knowledge that any price you must pay is worth consuming it. It should more than just satisfy your appetite, it should satisfy your soul." The table was silent when he finished; the only movement was that of females squirming a bit on their chairs.
Barbara felt her own stomach flutter at his words. "Are we still talking about rolls?" Barbara managed, feeling like an idiot the moment the words left her mouth. Logan laughed loudly; Garrett and Jason joined him, the three men clapping.
"Craig can make anything sound sinful," Jason explained. The other women flushed and began smiling as well.
Barbara's face burned a bright red. Seeing her obvious embarrassment, Craig placed his hand over hers, completely covering it. "I get a bit carried away," he confessed. Smiling, he said, "I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way." His words were sincere and she briefly wondered if he was apologizing for spanking her in a way that she would understand but would allow her to keep her dignity. Craig bent towards her, lowering his voice. "Not for outside, you understand," he said softly.
She met his eyes and finally relaxed. "Okay," she said, just as softly. "We are even." Craig shook his head.
"Not quite, little one," he said as his eyes once again captured hers. He didn't want her to consider this as a game they were playing. For some reason, she had captured him in a way that no other woman had in years. "That will come after you come to me," he finished and gave her hand a squeeze. Barbara felt her body clench at both his words and the unspoken promise in them. She pulled her hand away and stood.
"Isn't it getting late?" she asked. "I thought we had a full day's work ahead of us." Her words caused everyone to look at their watches and begin to stand. Craig was the last one on his feet. He left a large tip next to his plate and picked up his hat, settling it on his head. As the group left the dining room, he took the time to stop and thank the waitress for her excellent service. He also wondered briefly about passing along Barbara's suggestion to the cook but shrugged. If he wanted to lure this challenging woman to him, it wouldn't hurt to keep those suggestions in his own arsenal.
After Logan suggested everyone run to their rooms for bathing suits and towels, explaining that the lake could provide a refreshing break later that afternoon, everyone gathered in the parking lot. The men were drawn to the large red truck that was piled high with all sorts of tools as well as lawn chairs and coolers. Elizabeth stood on her tiptoes craning to see what all Craig had brought.
"You didn't have to bring all this," she said, though she was very pleased that he seemed so prepared. "I've got contractors coming as well, and I'm sure they will have tools."
Craig chuckled and patted the lid of an immense igloo. "I guarantee they won't have everything you'll need," he said with a grin.
"You men are not going to sit around all day chugging beer," Elizabeth said, her hands going to her hips. "You are mine now—well, mine and Logan's, and you promised to work!"
Logan chucked and easily scooped her off her feet, placing her over his shoulder. "Men cannot work on cinnamon rolls alone," Logan said, carrying her towards his own car. She pretended to protest but only squealed when he smacked her on her bottom. The others laughed as they all moved to follow the couple to the worksite. Before she understood what had happened, Barbara realized that she had been left without transportation. Craig simply grinned as he walked around his truck and opened the door.
"Your carriage awaits," he said as he swept the hat from his head and waved it towards the open door. Barbara sighed and walked towards him.
"I guess I should be grateful you don't expect me to ride a horse," she mumbled, as she had to lift her leg high to put her foot on the running board of the tall vehicle. She squealed when he easily put his hands around her waist and lifted her into the truck.
"Don't fret, little girl; I guarantee there is plenty of horsepower under the hood," Craig said, noticing that she flushed as he reached across her to fasten her seat belt. "Comfy?" he asked, and she just nodded, not having any idea how to react to everything he had done and continued to do. "Great, I want you to be safe and feel comfortable. It will make it easier when you come to me, little girl." He trailed the tip of his finger down her skin before bending and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her face turned scarlet.
He chuckled before shutting her door and walked around to the driver's side. As he climbed into the truck, she tried to understand her conflicted feelings. She had always felt out of sync with her mother and her sister. They were small, petite women who appeared tiny and delicate, though both were also very strong and capable. Barbara had inherited her father's genes. She was five-feet-ten inches and outweighed the other females in her family by at least thirty-five pounds. She had always felt large and awkward, never able to see what others saw. Where others saw that she was tall and curvy in all the right places, she saw only a woman too tall to fit into most jeans and too fat to make the ones she did find look flattering. Other women would kill for Barbara's hair—the thick waves of her auburn hair streaked with blonde and red highlights seemed to glow like the embers of a fire. While she believed her face was round and chubby, in reality it was oval with beautiful high cheekbones. Her eyes were stunning, appearing at times to be hazel, gold, or even a light green, and were true windows to her soul with their special ability to change colors with the lighting and her mood. Her breasts were large, full and round, pressing agai
nst her t-shirt in a way that made men drool and women jealous. Her legs were long, strong, and shapely. Her hips were far too wide as far as she was concerned, but men would disagree. They considered her bottom a thing of pure beauty. It was high and nicely rounded, the promise of wonder making males want to cup her cheeks in their palms before running their fingers across the heart-shaped surface.
Barbara had always felt like a giant among women, especially those in her family. She had never in her life felt truly feminine. She knew men had no comprehension of how she felt deep inside and would most certainly shrug off her emotion, considering it ridiculous. Sitting in this truck remembering how easily this man had picked her up, how effortless it had seemed to lift her over the wall, how he had controlled every attempt she had made to escape his clutches as he held her across his knees to spank her with a hand that was easily as large as any paddle, how she had to crane her neck to look up at him, all brought a feeling of intense emotion rolling through her. For the very first time in her entire life, Barbara Dietrich felt like what God had made her, a woman who felt small and fragile. She had never felt like this when wed to David … he had made her feel clumsy and ugly, telling her she needed to lose weight, not wear heels because they made her taller than he. He teased her about taking up more than her share of space, which only served to make her insecurity worse. Though she dressed conservatively, as her profession dictated, he ridiculed her taste in clothing.
She had failed in pleasing David, despite years of attempting to become what he desired. When she discovered he was having yet another affair, she had blamed herself instead of placing the blame where it belonged. Barbara had grown up among men who were secure in themselves and had dominant personalities. What she hadn't truly comprehended was that those men also respected the women who shared their love. They didn't abuse their loved ones, did not find pleasure in cowering any woman. Their goal was to offer their intense love and absolute protection to their partners. David had no such respect. He was an insecure man who found his power in spiteful teasing, ridiculing, shaming and embarrassing his wife. Despite the fact that she knew her mother was very happy under her father's authority, and that authority extended to corporal punishment, David had never physically disciplined Barbara, for which she thought she'd be grateful. After years of verbal ridicule or weeks of dramatic eye rolling, loud sighs of disapproval or just plain silence, she had found herself wishing for him to simply spank her so that the constant tension would be cleared. She had only once dared to suggest he spank her like her father had done. He had looked at her like she was some type of fool, telling her he had absolutely no intention of being her daddy, and that he liked the fact that she was capable of doing what was needed to make their lives run smoothly. She knew he meant that he didn't want to pay the bills, handle their finances, set up client dinners or any of the dozen of things necessary to have both the carefree marriage he obviously desired or build up their law firm. She had grown so tired and overwhelmed with all the responsibilities and had wished to be able to relinquish some of that control to her mate. It had been humiliating to have him ridicule and dismiss so easily a request that she had been months in building up her courage to ask.
When their lovemaking became a rarity, he of course blamed his wife for her lack of interest and an inability to please her husband. If only she were more attractive, if only she were more ladylike, if only she were smaller, thinner, sweeter. If only she could be whatever she could never be, he would not have strayed. Though her family tried to convince her that David was not only the guilty party but also a useless excuse for a man, much less a husband, Barbara continued to blame herself. When David quickly married his secretary, a tiny little blonde girl barely out of high school, Barbara had fallen into a deep depression.
Craig, this behemoth sitting beside her, could easily make two of her ex-husband. Though Craig drove a truck and not a Lexus, though he wore jeans and boots and a cowboy hat instead of Armani suits and designer ties, though his hair was long and not fashionably styled, it was obvious to her that this man was exactly what God had made him: a man who was large and able to protect anyone he cared about. Yes, he had spanked her, but she realized that while she felt embarrassed, he had not ridiculed her in any way. As she tried to assimilate all of what she was feeling, Craig turned and smiled at her.
"Ready?" he asked, and she instantly thought he meant was she ready to ask for the spanking he seemed so positive she would. Before she could shake her head, he turned the key in the ignition, and she realized he simply meant was she ready to go. Her stomach churned a bit and her bottom clenched as her face flushed. She was so confused by her feelings but managed to nod.
"Good girl, this will be fun," he said, starting the truck and pulling from the lot. Barbara looked out the window and tried not to think about the way those words made her feel. She was a mature adult and it was ridiculous to feel a ripple of pleasure from words given by a man she had only just met. He was simply being polite to make up for his atrocious assumption of having the right to turn her over his knees. She might have to ride with him, but she most certainly did not have to hold more than the bare minimum of a conversation.
Craig followed the parade of cars from the parking lot, though his mind was on the woman beside him. If she were any further away, she'd be outside the truck. He wondered what had affected her so deeply to cause her to hold all that awful hurt inside. He knew her family would offer her nothing but support and love. She had been beautiful standing in the parking lot, her hair whipping around her face, her hands on her hips as she threatened to sue him for assault, freely showing her outrage about his swatting her ass. He knew her anger came from far more than the very slight pain of a simple spanking. He thought briefly of apologizing but instantly dismissed the idea. He wasn't a man to discipline without reason and he knew she understood exactly why she had gotten those smacks. He had also seen her unconscious reaction every time he called her a naughty girl or referred to her as being a child. He glanced to see her still turned towards the window and decided that he would make it his goal to have her smiling before the day was done.
Chapter 3
"Welcome to Haven," Elizabeth said softly, her eyes on the group as they all stood on the parched lawn looking up at the old house.
Nancy was smiling, her eyes scanning across the building, easily picturing the hotel that the house would become. She stepped forward and flung her arms around Elizabeth. "This is incredible," she said, stepping back to wave her hands at the house. "I can't wait to check in." Logan saw the look on Jason's face and had to chuckle. He knew that the poor guy was thinking Elizabeth had lost her mind and had taken his own wife along for the ride. "Don't look so scared," Logan said, as he put his arm around Elizabeth. "I guarantee that our girl has got every single room planned down to the last picture on the wall. All it will take is a bit of imagination."
"And a hell of a lot of blood, sweat and tears," Garrett added, and then yelped when Ariel dug her elbow into his side. She lifted her everpresent camera and snapped some pictures, making sure she got one of every view.
"I'll make an album for you two. It will be fun seeing before and after photos," Ariel said, and made them all line up for a group shot. After the impromptu photo session, Garrett slapped her on her bottom.
"Make sure you have loads of film. I have a feeling it's going to take thousands of photos to document this transformation." Ariel laughed and tossed her hair.
"Film is for the dark ages, Garrett. All I need is an SD card … well, maybe a few cards," Ariel said.
Elizabeth was far too happy to let anyone try to sway her from her dream. She turned to the group and clapped her hands. "Okay, enough lollygagging around. I'll give you a quick tour, and then Logan can let you know where to start. Everyone remember to watch where you step as some of the boards might be a teensy bit soft. Oh, and don't lean on the stair railing too hard; it needs a couple of brackets replaced. The electricity and water service are supposed t
o be on, but if you flip a switch, um you might let Logan know if you see sparks. Other than that and some dust, you should be fine. Any questions?" she asked purposefully, ignoring the exaggerated look of horror the men were throwing at her. Shaking her head, she turned to the women.
"I guess it is our responsibility as always to show these simpleminded men that what they can't see is beautiful, shall we?" she asked, looping her arm around Nancy's waist and holding out a hand to Barbara. Barbara was surprised at the gesture, but found herself moving forward and taking the hand. Ariel wrapped her arm around her mother.
As they took the first steps, Garrett said loudly, "Rotten boards, rusty nails, and electrocution—oh my!" He loudly hummed the theme music to the Wizard of Oz; the men laughed as the women hesitated.
Nancy turned to look over her shoulder. "Oh look, ladies, we have an entire yard full of cowardly lions." It was the ladies turn to laugh, and ignoring the men, they walked to the house as a unified group.
As they reached the first of the porch steps, Craig called out. "Gracie, put dibs on the kitchen, that's where we'll work," he said. "At least if we have to evacuate when the place starts falling down, we'll be on the first floor."
Barbara found herself smiling as she paused on the step. "You just better pray we can get out before the floors above squash us flat. Hope you can run fast after all those cinnamon rolls you put away," she said. Craig chuckled and raked his eyes up and down her tall frame.
"At least you've got sexy long legs, not like short-stuff there," he teased, nodding towards Ariel. He was amazed to see that Barbara seemed surprised by the compliment. It made him wonder how long it had been since anyone had told her she was one gorgeous lady.
Ariel smiled, her hand now reaching out to take her sister's. "It's not my fault I got the dumpy, short end of the gene pool," Ariel said with a laugh as the line of women stepped into the house. Barbara followed, her stomach fluttering as she thought about the look in his eyes as they traveled up her body. "I think you, big sister, have got a definite admirer," Ariel teased, praying she was correct. She adored her sister and had hated seeing the hurt and sadness fill her sister's eyes over the last few months. Barbara flushed and said nothing as they joined the other women.
