Feeling Brave (Blossom Ridge Book 4)

  FEELING BRAVE

  BLOSSOM RIDGE, BOOK FOUR

  BECCA JAMESON

  Copyright © 2022 by Becca Jameson

  Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Newsletter

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Author’s Note

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

  Join my newsletter to stay up to date on all things Becca Jameson!

  Becca’s Newsletter Sign-up

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Juliet

  For three years I’ve been relying on Aldric.

  After my parents died, he swooped in to take care of me.

  It’s not fair to him. I know I’m holding him back.

  I’m a ballerina, but only in private.

  I’m also Little…but only in private.

  My fantasy of Aldric being the Daddy I crave is just that, a fantasy.

  What if I admit what I really want and I lose him?

  Aldric

  With our age difference, I know we have an unconventional relationship.

  There’s no place I’d rather be than with Juliet.

  She’s my Little, even if she doesn’t realize it.

  We live together. I take care of everything for her while she grieves.

  If this is all I ever get with Juliet, I will take it.

  She’s mine even though I’ve never told her.

  I could take a risk and ask for more, but what if I lose her?

  CHAPTER 1

  Juliet

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Aldric asks me as I’m about to take a bite of my mac and cheese.

  I go ahead and stick the fork in my mouth, partly because I don’t want to answer him yet and partly because I’m not sure what he’s referring to.

  I’m sitting on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, my toes on the rung for balance. I’m short enough that my toes barely reach the rung. Every time I sit here, I’m reminded of that fact. I’m only five-two.

  Aldric props his elbows on the island next to me, leaning in close enough that I can inhale his scent. A scent I’ve known most of my life. A scent I love. It’s not something specific. It’s just…Aldric.

  He reaches out with one hand and gently tucks a wisp of my hair behind my ear. “Juliet? Talk to me.”

  I’m not positive where this conversation is going, but I’m nervous enough that my mac and cheese suddenly feels like glue in my mouth and I can’t taste it. This fact annoys me because Aldric makes the best mac and cheese on the planet. He does it from scratch, and he does it often for me because he knows I love it.

  I reach up to tuck the same lock of hair behind my ear again when it fails to stay. Not surprising. My thin brown hair is in a long braid down my back, but strands of it always escape to torment me.

  “About what?” I whisper, not meeting his gaze. Instead, I push the mac and cheese around my plate.

  “Honey, I was in the stairwell. I heard what you said while we were at Blossom Ridge earlier.”

  Shit. “I said a lot of things. What are you referring to?”

  He cups my face, using his thumb to turn my head his direction. His gaze is intense. Sometimes I feel like he’s looking into my soul. Now is one of those times.

  I swallow. If only he had a clue how much he affects me when he stands this close, when he touches me, when he looks at me like that. But he has no idea, and it’s infuriating.

  I should tell him. There are lots of things I should tell him. A thousand. But I’m not brave enough, and I don’t want anything to change.

  Well, that’s not true. I’d like things to change. Tons of things. But if he had any idea what I’m thinking most of the time, he would be shocked and probably move out of the apartment.

  Technically it’s my apartment. Well, it was my parents’ home before they died, but now it’s mine. I’m not a baby anymore. I’m twenty-three. I don’t need a guardian. I never really needed one in the first place. I was twenty when my parents died. Not five.

  Nevertheless, Aldric had been named as my guardian from the time I was five, so it was only logical that he see to my wellbeing after my parents passed even though I was a bit too old to warrant the guardian.

  I’m not so naïve that I think I could have taken care of myself. I couldn’t have. I was too distraught. I still am. I need Aldric. I can’t breathe without him.

  He showed up. He took care of everything, including me. And I let him. Weeks went by that turned into months that turned into years. He’s still here. I never want him to leave.

  He smiles. “You did not say a lot of things, Juliet. You never say many things. And I’m pretty sure you only uttered the one sentence the entire time we were at Blossom Ridge. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m referring to.”

  I glance down even though he’s still holding my chin.

  He continues. “I’ll remind you. You said, ‘I sometimes dance when I’m alone so Aldric won’t know about it.’”

  Shit. He heard me. I drop my fork, my hunger vanishing. I shrug, pretending it doesn’t matter. “It’s no big deal.”

  He releases my chin, but his hand slides down to rest on the back of my stool as he pulls a second stool close to mine and perches on the edge of it. His knee touches my thigh.

  The man has no idea how much he affects me when he’s this close. It’s maddening. Later tonight, I’ll be replaying every moment of this physical contact while I’m in my bed, under the covers, touching myself.

  “I have a confession of my own, honey.”

  I glance at him, flinching.

  “I know you dance when I’m not looking. I’ve known it for a long time.”

  I jerk in my seat and shoot him another look. “What? How? Why didn’t you say something?” For some reason, I feel violated. Or maybe exposed.

  He smiles gently. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I figure you have your reasons. Some people like the solitude it provides. I get it because I often danced when no one was looking when I was young. Mostly because my parents didn’t approve of my chosen profession.”

  I gasp. “You never told me that. I’ve always thought your parents were supportive of your career.” I’ve met Aldric’s parents many times. They’re in their seventies now and have retired in Florida, but they’ve always seemed proud of their son.

  He shrugs. “By the time I met you, they’d changed their tune, but when I was younger, they thought I was chasing a stupid dream.”

  I glance back at my plate. My food is cold now. I’m not hungry anyway. “Well, my parents were the opposite, obviously.” He knows good and well my parents would have moved the moon if it would have meant me becoming a prima ballerina. They were both ballerinas themselves. They met and married when they were performing together in New York one summer. They had me a year later. I was an oops, but they adored me as if I walked on water.

  “The point is there are lots of reasons why people like to be alone to express themselves through dance. It can be therapeutic and cathartic. I’m sure it is for you too.”

  “How did you know?” I murmur.

  “I can hear the floorboard creak when you sneak downstairs to the studio in the night, honey. And there are cameras in the studio.”

  Duh. I have no idea why I ever thought I was getting away with anything. I shrug again. “It’s no big deal,” I repeat. “Like you said, it’s cathartic. I can clear my head and face my demons.” I wince as I add that last revealing part.

  “I hate that you have demons, Juliet,” he says gently. “And it is a big deal. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t have told all the girls at Blossom Ridge about it as if you’d broken a rule.” He lifts a brow.

  I draw in a breath. “I don’t know why I said anything. It was stupid.”

  “It wasn’t stupid. I’m glad you felt compelled to join Leah and Amy and the others. You need some friends.”

  I shoot him another look, not blinking. For a few long moments, I say nothing. Finally, I manage to speak. “Friends like those women?” My heart is racing. Forget what I said or thought or did. I’m more interested in how we ended up at Blossom Ridge in the first place and why Aldric brought me with him and how much he knew about those women before we got there.

  “Why not?” he asks. “They’re nice. Some of them live close by. I’m going to be teaching classes at the resort every week.”

  “Why did you bring me with you?” I’ve been curious about this ever since we fi
rst stepped into the mansion.

  His hand slides up my back and over my shoulder and up to cup my cheek. He strokes my skin with his thumb. “Like I said. So you could meet some people. You graduated from college a year ago. You work from inside this apartment like a hermit. You don’t see people. You have no friends. I worry about you.”

  “Well, you don’t need to worry. I’m fine. I’m an introvert. I like working from home. That’s why I chose web design. I knew I could work for myself, take my time, build up a client list.”

  I’m lying to him and to myself. We both know being introverted isn’t the main reason I don’t leave this apartment more often than absolutely necessary. Going to Blossom Ridge today was huge for me. I wouldn’t ordinarily do something like that. Aldric coerced me, badgering me until I relented.

  He gives me another warm smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It rarely does. He pities me or he’s sad for me or something I can’t put my finger on. All I know is I don’t want to rock the boat. I don’t want him to leave.

  Even if I never have the guts to tell him how I really feel about him, at least he’s here with me. I get to see him every day. The only time he’s not within a few rooms of me is when he’s downstairs in the dance studio teaching classes.

  Even then, I can hear him through the vents. I can feel the beat of the music and hear his voice wafting up from downstairs. This building is old. It’s not well-insulated between the floors. Like he said, it creaks.

  I was five when my parents bought this building in this small town outside Seattle. Their professional dancing days were over and they decided they didn’t want to raise me in New York, so they came here.

  I have very few memories of New York. My entire life is here. The spacious apartment above the studio has been my home for my entire memorable life.

  I met Aldric soon after we moved here. He was twenty-two. My parents hired him to teach classes. I thought he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with him when I was five. Most people would probably think that’s crazy, but since I’ve never told a soul…

  During my childhood, Aldric came and went many times. He was a dancer, after all. He went to New York for a few years and later Los Angeles. But he always came back, and my heart always seized when he did.

  “Juliet…”

  I flinch as he interrupts my thoughts. “Did you know?” I clear my voice. “Did you know those women were, uh…Little?”

  The moment the word comes out of my mouth, I wish I could take it back. I’ve revealed too much, and I know it immediately when his brows rise high. “I did. How do you know that term, honey?” His voice is gentle. His hand stiffens on my cheek.

  My face heats. I shrug. “Internet.”

  He narrows his gaze. “Research?”

  “Or whatever. That’s not important.” I wave a hand between us and slide down from my stool on the opposite side. For once, I need some space. That’s rare. Usually, I prefer there be no space between us and I relish the times he’s this close to me.

  I snag my plate and take it to the sink.

  Aldric follows me, removes it from my hand, and sets it on the counter. “Juliet…”

  I spin around, intent on fleeing this room and this conversation. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Juliet?” His voice is higher. “You’re just going to cuss and walk away?” He’s following me. Shit shit shit.

  I hurry down the hall and into my bedroom. When I start to close the door, he sets his hand on it and prevents me from hiding.

  “I’m tired, Aldric.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re embarrassed. And I don’t want you to be. I want you to talk to me.”

  I turn and head for my attached bath and step inside, hoping to at least put some space between us. I’m not going to be able to hide from him. It won’t do me any good to shut the door. It would be childish. But at least I can busy myself in front of the mirror.

  So, I take the band out of my braid and proceed to unravel it, knowing I can stand here and brush through the length for a while to avoid facing him.

  I’m more than aware of Aldric taking a seat on my bed. He’s not going away. I have mixed feelings about this new development. Usually, I like it when he’s close. He rarely comes into my bedroom. But tonight I’m beyond flustered.

  After a few minutes, Aldric speaks again. “Talk to me, honey. I’m not leaving. We’re past overdue for a serious conversation.”

  I put my brush down and turn toward him, leaning in the doorway. “We’re not. We’re fine. Can you please just forget you overheard me and drop this subject entirely?” It’s been a long time since I’ve been this unnerved.

  I know it’s wrong of me to behave the way I do. On so many levels. I’m keeping Aldric from having a normal life while he continues to live here with me. It’s unconventional. I’m sure people talk about us or at least wonder about us. Hell, most people probably assume we’re a couple.

  Ha.

  I wish.

  I’m equally certain the idea has never crossed Aldric’s mind. He’s my…guardian. He sees himself as my caretaker. When my parents died, he moved into my home to take care of me.

  It’s not his fault I’ve always fantasized I’m living a different life with him. It’s certainly not his fault I’m still secretly drooling over him at twenty-three and have spent years doing so. He doesn’t even know it.

  I don’t know why he stays. I’m a disaster. Sure, he was meant to be my guardian. If I’d been a child, he would have raised me. But I wasn’t a child when they died. I was an adult. I should have been able to pull myself together after a few days or weeks and let him go.

  I didn’t. On purpose. I’ve never pulled myself together. Not just because I don’t want Aldric to leave but also because I haven’t faced what happened to my parents. We both know it. We just don’t discuss it.

  “No. We’re going to talk,” he insists. He looks around my room slowly. “You never let me update your bedroom. I’ve asked many times. Why?”

  This change of subject surprises me, but then I glance around, following his gaze and groan. “I’ve told you. My mother decorated it. It’s got sentimental value. I don’t want to change it.”

  This is true. Partly. My mother dreamed of this princess haven and my father made it happen. Pink frilly everything. Bedding, curtains, rugs. Even a vanity table with a pink ruffled skirt. There’s a ballerina lamp and a music box. My pillows are fluffy and pink.

  Aldric clears his throat. “Why have you been researching age play, Juliet?”

  “Why do you know about it?” I toss back, rather proud of myself.

  “I’ve known I’m a Daddy since before you could read, honey. It’s in my blood. Answer my question.” He looks me dead in the eye while he tells me this, never wavering.

  I gasp, mostly because I’m shocked. All this time…

  We’re treading in uncharted territory here. I think I’m going to faint. I’ve always assumed Aldric took care of me the way he does because I work hard to make it seem like I’m incapable of doing so myself. I’ve always thought he stayed with me out of obligation to my parents.

  I lick my lips. My mind is spinning in ten directions.

  “Are you a Little, Juliet?” he asks.

  I shrug, glancing down. I don’t know how to respond. Part of me is elated. I’ve been pretending he’s a Daddy for years. Pretending he’s my Daddy in fact.

  He draws in a deep breath. “It makes sense. I should have known. I’ve even considered it many times, but I wasn’t sure.”

  It’s not like there wasn’t a billboard. I’m as Little as they come. I’ve read every book and researched every possible site in existence. I’ve never encountered anyone who’s as Little as me. The only reason it hasn’t ever sent me into a full panic is because I’m aware I’m in good company. I’m not the only Little in the world. There are tons of women like me. Women who prefer to be nurtured and cared for. Women who don’t want to be adults.