Time Out (Daddies Know Best #5)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Fay

Daddy isn’t here, and this big old place is way too quiet. I said I’d be okay when he was gone, but honestly? I kind of wish he didn’t live in a mansion, because with the workers all gone home and me rattling around in here it’s spooky. When I came around the bottom of the stairs into the back hall, I swear I caught a shadow moving in front of me.

I want my Daddy. I want a time-out…

Hudson said there was something he needed to do, and he wanted it to be a surprise. I’m excited, but I’m also hoping he hurries and gets back here.

I found a little library which I thought would be fun, but all alone here I felt like I was Daphne in a Scooby-Doo episode, and someone in a scary mask was about to jump out from behind every chair and corner.

So then I thought, maybe I could get something to eat. Food is always a friend.

And on my way to the kitchen, I tiptoed by the doors with the yellow tape that Hudson specifically told me not to open. What could he have in there that I’m not allowed to see? The workers are gone, so it’s not like I would be putting them in danger by looking at me.

Because Hudson turns downright homicidal if any of them even turn their eyes in my direction.

I wonder if it’s something kinky? Like, does he have some Christian Grey dungeon thing going on?

If that’s the case, I’m down for it, ‘hundred percent.

My need for a dopamine hit overrides my better judgment, and I can’t see how a little peek is going to hurt anything.

There’s no lock on the door, just that yellow tape which peels away easily with a soft crinkling sound. I click the handle, and it swings open onto a room half in darkness with the curtains closed. I fumble over the wood molding on the inside of the door until I feel the switch and flick it upward.

Whomp, whomp, whomp.

No frickin’ dungeon. Not even a red sofa or a riding crop.

There’s moving boxes. They’re not labeled with “Kitchen” or “Dining Room” or whatever, but it’s very obvious that things have been packed away. I’m guessing they’ve been put away from the part of the house that’s being renovated, so that the workers will have a clear space to do what they need, and there won’t be any chance of anything getting broken.

But this is like a ten on the boring scale, so why all the secrecy about coming through into this part of the house? There’s no demo here. It’s not torn up or dangerous.

I sigh and shrug, spinning to go back the way I came when I catch an open box with photo frames stacked inside.

God, how I’d love to tease Daddy when he gets back with a photo of him as a baby or a little boy with mashed potatoes smeared all over his cute little face.

I know curiosity killed the cat, but I’m a dog person, so…

I smirk as I pull out the first gold frame and study the picture, my anticipatory grin turning to a frown.

It’s not him. It’s a couple, but not Hudson.

Maybe his sister or brother?

No, he said he didn’t have any family.

And the woman… She’s pretty, and they are standing outside the front of this house. I’d recognize that incredible carved front door and stone anywhere.

I turn it over, wondering if there will be some clue, but there’s nothing.

My heart is starting to pound, and my palms are clammy. Something here feels wrong and all the crazy fantasy of the last twenty-four hours is suddenly feeling like dried flower petals starting to crumble.

I set down the frame and tug open the box. There’s picture frames and some files and envelopes and now, there’s no turning back.

I tug out the first thick file and read the printing on the tab which reads, “Chastity’s Charity 2024”. I leaf through, finding records of donations and dates and times right up to last month. I weed through the other files, all of them have something to do with someone named Chastity.

I’m tearing open the tape on another box. More files, some for someone now named Jackson, but nothing for Hudson. There are more photographs of the same couple, some inside the house, some in other places and some of the beautiful woman dressed in some pretty spectacular lingerie and I suddenly feel uneasy and out of place.

Like I don’t belong here.

No sign of Hudson. No mention of him.

What is going on?

My heart is in my throat as I back out of the room, shutting off the light and pulling the door closed.

Should I get out of here? What do I actually know about the man that brought me here outside of the few little conversations we’ve had between the sex and the daddy talk and him feeding me and making me drink Pedialyte?

In a kind of daze, I wander back upstairs, noting how generic this part of the house is, and finally find the bedroom we’ve been sharing and sit on the edge of the bed.

Why am I so na?ve? Did I really think some billionaire prince charming had showed up in the strip club just in time to whisk me off the stage and into some pampered princess parallel universe?

Am I even conscious? Maybe I slipped on stage off those stupid heels, whacked my head, and I’m laying in some hospital room as a Jane Doe in a coma.

I have nothing of my own here. I’ve been living in Hudson’s shirts and boxers, so if I want to get away, I’ll have to go as is. I’m not sure what to do, but being up here in this room where I gave so much of myself to this stranger feels now somehow wrong and embarrassing.

I bolt back downstairs, looking at all the yellow tape on other doors, and start ripping it away and pushing my way inside.

I need to know what’s going on here. I need to know who has taken me here, told me he loved me, but really, did he just want to get me here, do the things we did, and maybe this isn’t even his house. Maybe…

Inside the room, there’s a computer, and a printer, and there on the desk as plain as day on the monitor is a photo covering the screen. A photo of someone jumping a fence with a house in the background.

My house. God, it’s… me.

The room starts spinning as I hear a beep and the front door opening, and it’s too late. I could hide, but why? I’m caught, and I am not even sure why I care. Something nefarious is going on here and sweat prickles over my skin and visions of that dungeon come back, but this time, it’s filled with zip ties and duct tape and clear plastic sheeting.

I’m about to be on the wrong end of a Dexter episode.

I decide to take this bull by the horns and I step out of the room, facing down the man that could have his baby growing inside me already, which for a second, makes me believe he’s not intending on killing me. But there are worse things than death.

Hudson’s gray eyes narrow when he sees me. “Hey, baby, guess what I’ve—” Concern flashes across his hard features as he clicks his teeth together, looking over my shoulder, then swallows, focusing on me, and I think I’m about to faint.

I’m pretty sure I’ve been kidnapped by a stalker who might have killed the real owners of this house and has some delusions about being my father and owning this place.

He was driving a Bentley though...

God, I’m so confused. But despite all that, the expression of sorrow on his face makes me want to go to him. To hug him. To tell him I love him, and it’s all going to be all right.

I don’t notice the bags he’s carrying until he drops them with a thud on the floor. Bags from toy stores, lingerie stores, adult stores… I scan them all, then snap my eyes back to his, wary but still somehow not running out the front door into the dark night.

“Baby, it’s not what you think.” He takes a step forward, and I take one back, and the hurt on his face is almost more than I can bear.

“Who are Jackson and Chastity?” I ask, that question foremost in my mind right now. The photo of me? Sure, that’s a concern, but I want to know that happy looking couple is still alive.

“They own this house,” he says, simply, like he’s not ripping the world apart with those words.

“I thought you owned this house,” I accuse him.

He nods. “I know you thought that. I let you think it. But I never told you—”

“Are they alive?”

“Alive? Fuck, yeah, I think so. Why, do you know something I don’t? The cops come by, what’s going on?”

“I just need to know. Are they alive? Please answer me.”

“ Of course they are . Jackson is my employer and my best friend. They’re in Aruba. I’m watching the house and managing the renovation while they’re gone. That’s it. You think I killed them?”

He takes another step forward, and this time I don’t retreat. He’s not lying, I feel it down in my belly.

“What about the photo of me? Were you following me to the strip club? Is that why you were there? To kidnap me?”

He steps forward again, almost to within reach, shaking his head. The tension between us softens as he loops one hand behind my neck with a first squeeze. “Baby, look in my eyes. That strip club was a coincidence. My friend Wilson owns it. I believe God or the Devil or some cosmic force delivered you to me. Yeah, I took that photo the night before the club. I was going to find you and figure out what I could do to make sure you always had everything you ever wanted or needed. And sure, that makes me a stalker. Or, a would be stalker, but I can’t let you go. I can never let you go. That’s not a threat, it’s just how it’s going to be. No one will ever have you but me. Your sweet strawberry shortcake there has cast a spell on me for which there is no antidote.” He cocks an eyebrow, looking down at my crotch, then winks. “Sorry, baby, Daddy’s got you, and he’s never letting you go.”

He kisses the top of my head and I try to stay mad, I really do. I know, deep down, I should be walking out of the door right now and not looking back. I should probably be taking out a restraining order.

But there is no part of me that wants that.

Instead, I fall into that wide, welcoming chest that already feels like home and listen to the sound of his thump, thump, thumping heart. But there’s another sound.

Coming from the bags and boxes.

No, it’s outside the door.

“Oh my god.” I pull back, listening, and hear it again.

Barking. It’s a dog.

“Did a stray follow you?” I push back, looking up to see a rare smile exposing Hudson’s manly, sexy teeth.

“Told you I was going to get a surprise. Yeah, I went shopping. I hired a shopper to help because what the fuck do I know about what a girl needs? So I just told her to get you everything she would want, then everything her sister or her best friend would want, and finally everything she thought a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other would want. Told her I’d let you tell me I was a dumbass and didn’t get anything you needed.”

“Daddy…” I soften as he steps to the door.

“I was trying to tell you. There’s a shelter for special needs dogs, and they had one that was a black Labrador. He only has one eye, and I heard this other couple saying that he creeped them out, but honestly I couldn’t leave without—”

“ My dog!” I squeal, and I’m already heading out the door. “You got me a dog? A black Lab ?”

The bags of gifts lie forgotten on the hall tiles as I rush out of the door as he pulls it open, heading for his Bentley where the barking starts again. I see the dog before I even reach the car, his face squished up against the glass, steaming it up with his breath. It is a black Labrador! No, wait, there’s another set of ears and a tail. Two black Labs! I do think I’m in a coma, but I never want to wake up!

As soon as they see me their tails are swishing back and forth. They’re hopping up and down, doing these little puppy yelping sounds, and I feel like my heart is about to explode.

And yes, there’s an empty eye socket, but who cares? He’s not creepy, he’s adorable, and he needs me. They need me.

As soon as the door is open, the first one is on my chest and I catch him with both arms, so excited to have a home and—

Wait, I don’t have a home. This isn’t Hudson’s home. That much I’ve puzzled out. There’s some details here that need flushing out.

“Is this their home?” I ask as I turn to find Hudson watching us. I narrow my eyes. “I mean, it’s not your home, is it?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. This is Jackson and Chastity’s place.”

“So when do I get to see where you live?”

“ We , baby,” he says, stepping toward the car. “Get in. I’m going to show you our new home. For all four of us,” he says with a grin, knuckling one dog’s head, then the other. Then his hand goes to my belly, pulling me in close, and he adds, “Soon to be five.”