Page 46 of Cowboy Daddies

She nodded, while noticing that his plate had barely been touched.

“Good. Why don’t we talk about those text messages.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’d really rather not.” She resisted the urge to squirm in her seat like some naughty child.

“Too bad. Start talking.”

Where to even begin? She’d been hiding things from him for so long that she didn’t even know what to say. “It’s just… work stuff.”

“Just work stuff?” He stared at her. His caramel-colored eyes, usually filled with warmth and love, had gone cold and hard. “Allegra, I wouldn’t talk to a dog the way that man was talking to you in those texts. Edward is your supervisor, right? How long has he been treating you like his personal lackey?”

Allegra sighed. “It’s not that bad. He’s just… difficult to work with. But he promised if I took on these extra projects, he’d recommend me for a promotion. It will be worth it, and then I won’t be under him anymore.”

“How long ago did he make this promise?”

She shifted in her seat. She didn’t want to answer that question but, “About five months ago.”

“So, for five months you’ve been doing the work of three people, while he dangles a promotion over your head?”

“It’s-it’s not like that.” It was exactly like that. It was only supposed to be one extra project, one time, but once she’d open the door…

And in the meantime, she had to put up with every demeaning comment and criticism, while pouring all her energy into trying to keep up with the heavy workload he’d dumped on her. It would be worth it, eventually.

Convincing Carter of that would be impossible though, so she changed the subject. “Why did you even go to all the trouble of…” She waved a hand at the plates, the flowers. “It’s obvious you’ve been waiting to yell at me all day.” It wasn’t meant to sound so snarky, but she could hear the tone as the words poured out. “Just tell me I’m a fuck-up so I can go to bed. Please?”

He surged to his feet and was around the table before she could react, pulling her up from her seat and marching her across the room to an empty corner.

It wasn’t empty for long, because he planted her in it, with her nose to the wall. Just like the good old days. It had been so long since he’d gone into Dom mode that it was a shock. But there was almost a feeling of relief that he was finally taking over.

She slumped against the wall, letting her forehead rest against the cold paint. “I’m sorry,” she said, after a few moments had passed. She hadn’t been put in the corner for a long time—nearly a year maybe, but she knew the routine.

The expected lecture didn’t come. Instead, there was a long sigh, and then, “No, I’m sorry.”

It was off script. She twisted her head enough to sneak a quick look in his direction. “You … are?”

“I should have noticed what was going on sooner. It should never have gotten this far, but we’re going to fix this.”

If he was taking the blame … maybe she wasn’t actually in trouble. “Does that mean I can get out of the corner?” Her feet were tired and honestly, she was out of practice at being punished.

He snorted. “No. You stay right where you are. Maybe you can use the time to think about what you’ve been doing.” It was phrased like a suggestion but the steel in his voice made it clear that it was an order.

She felt him move away, heard the soft clatter of dishes as he began to clear the table. Her tired feet ached and she shifted her weight from one to the other as she waited.

Corner time wasn’t just punishment. It was also supposed to be a quiet time to reflect on whatever she’d done wrong. She was meant to be thinking about her behavior, and how to explain herself, which almost never actually happened, especially not tonight. All she could think about now was how tired she was, and how much her feet hurt.

It didn’t take him long to clean up. He’d always been the ‘clean as he went’ type and when she heard the dishwasher start, she knew she was running out of time to decide what she wanted to say. Finally, her mind turned to the issues.

Lying and hiding things, that’s what he’d be most upset about. But she also knew he was going to have a lot to say about the lack of self-care. She was mad at herself for digging such a deep hole. It hadn’t seemed so⁠—

“Well?”

She jumped, head smacking the wall with a thump. “Ouch!” she blurted, as she quickly straightened.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be saying that a lot tonight.” There was the slightest hint of amusement in his tone.

Despite the ominous threat, it helped. If he was amused, he couldn’t be that mad. At least, that’s what she hoped.

“Have a seat on the couch, Allegra. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”