Chapter 9
“You didn’t realize he’d interrogate me?”
“Watch your tone, young lady,” John scolded, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor. “I figured he heard me paddle your behind this afternoon, but since it was his idea that you should be trained in this lifestyle…”
“What happened between us in the bedroom today wasn’t on Jake’s cross-examination agenda. Thank God he never mentioned hearing anything—although I’m sure he did.”
“Before I drove to the store, he asked how long you were going to stay here, but it seemed like a benign question.”
“That’s not all he wanted to know,” I managed through tense lips. “Your son insisted on hearing details.”
“Dear God. What did you tell him?”
“He asked for honesty, so I tried to be above board with him. If I ever doubted it before, it’s now clear Jake never intended to play matchmaker—he was only getting us together to improve my D/s writing. And now that he knows the truth, he’s concerned.”
The vibrant green and gold flecks in John’s warm brown eyes made up the most beautiful combination of my favorite autumn tones. But it was never a good sign when his compelling hazel eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t have been gone for more than twenty minutes. In such a short period of time, you told him everything that happened between us in the last week?”
“Well, not everything,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Just the highlights.”
“Look at me when I speak to you, young lady.” He waited until I obeyed, and then his intense gaze locked with mine. “What exactly do you mean by the highlights?”
“He wanted to know if I was in love with you. He’s worried if I continue to live here, someone’s heart will be broken. And I’m certain he’s more concerned with your heart than mine.”
“We don’t need my son’s blessing to live together. For God’s sake, we’re consenting adults.”
“Not to mention whose idea it was that I spend a week here…”
John firmly folded one arm over the other and growled. “What else did Jake want to know?”
“He asked if chutzpah was really a part of my personality, or if I was just trying to provoke you by constantly misbehaving. He’s wondering if I’m playing the part of a disobedient young girl only for the sake of my next book.”
John’s clenched jaw was outlined by his handsome five o’clock shadow. “But during your last phone conversation with him…”
“Jake said he knew I had a saucy mouth. But this time he was obviously searching for more. He wanted to know if we’re right for each other.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Besides the fact that a rebellious nature didn’t end with my teenage years, I told him why our relationship has become so important to me.”
His curious eyes studied mine. “Keep going.”
“In the past, I hadn’t given Jake any background on my history, or why I’d had an interest in writing spanking romance. When our conversation started, I gave him a few glimpses into our week together, but after he asked for information about my family—our discussion naturally veered into another direction. Most mothers and fathers try to infuse strong morals and values into their children, but because my parents were seriously lacking in the integrity department—there were major holes in my basic understanding of right and wrong. Dark holes that you had an honest desire to fill with not only rules, but care and compassion. And even though Jake said he understood and believed everything I shared with him today—he still seemed nervous about me moving in.”
Unfortunately, the muscles in John’s jaw weren’t relaxing one bit, and my incessant rambling forged ahead like a freight train barreling down the tracks.
“So, what do you think your son is really afraid of? Does he think I’m not good enough for you?”
He held one finger up in the air and spoke softly. “Enough. I don’t ever want to hear you put yourself down again.”
My arms crossed as my mouth instantly closed.
His head tilted. “Body language.”
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled, dropping my arms.
“Now then. Did he tell you about my relationship with his mom?”
“Not much. Only that she missed having a loving father, and you were the head of their household.”
