Daddy's Pet

2. Aiden

2

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 that her horse had 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 alert 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 stomach ache. “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 acceptable 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.