The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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She gives me a much happier nod. βIβll be all better by tomorrow, Daddy. Promise.β
I take her hand and rub my thumb over her knuckles. βDonβt push yourself. Weβve got a whole week ahead of us. Tomorrowβs Cabo. I thought we might go to the beach in the morning and build sandcastles before we meet Michael and Teresa for lunch. Then weβll do some sightseeing in the afternoon. Nice, relaxed day thatβll leave us with plenty of energy for our big scene.β
Emily turns fiery red, even her little ears pinkening, and becomes very involved in pushing the last few bites of waffles around on her plate.
βAre you still okay with the Princess Amber scene, sweetheart?β
She nods but doesnβt lift her eyes from her breakfast.
βTalk to me, Emmy. Whatβs worrying you?β
βWhat if I donβt react right?β
React right? How could she react wrong? βEmmy, youβre wonderful in scenes. You go so deeply into character I barely recognize you.β
She smiles but continues playing with the remains of her waffles. βItβs going to be hard treating you like a scary stranger, Daddy.β
βAh.β I see the source of her concern. βI donβt have to be a stranger, do I? The Black Knight could have met Princess Amber before at tournaments and things. Is it important that theyβre strangers?β
She lifts her gaze and looks at me wonderingly. βNo, Daddy. Princess Amber would be even more outraged that the Black Knight is sacking her fatherβs castle if heβs someone she knows. Thatβs such a good idea.β
βThank you.β I kiss her knuckles. βI like working up scenes with you. Almost as much as playing them out with you. Yesterdayβs scene was one of the best Iβve done; I hit topspace so fast it made my head spin.β
She grins. βYou really liked it? I was afraid it was too tame for you.β
βToo tame for me?β
She nods. βBecause youβre a wolfy-daddy.β
βI see. Well, it wasnβt.β I chuckle. βThat cane has a gorgeous bite. Perfect for a wolfy-daddy.β
She tucks her face into her hands, blushing. Her little-girl blushes are almost as much of a turn on as the thumb sucking. They make my head light and my balls tight, and because Iβm thinking with my little head instead of my big one, it takes me a minute to realize why sheβs so shy this morning.
βWe shared a lot yesterday, didnβt we?β
She grabs her teacup in both hands and hides behind it.
βSome of those things were pretty big. Tough to share with someone youβve only known for a week, huh?β I reach across the table, unwrap one of her hands from the teacup and hold it in mine. She slowly lowers the teacup, looking at me anxiously. βI feel comfortable with you knowing about those things about me. Are you okay with me knowing about those things about you?β
She bites her lip, then nods. βYes, Daddy. Itβs just that some of them are really embarrassing.β
Iβm not sure which of the things she told me last night she finds particularly embarrassing this morning, but it doesnβt matter. Whatβs important is that she knows she can tell me anything without fear.
βEmmy, the things youβve found out about me over the last couple of days are more than βreally embarrassing.β Theyβre psych ward commitment-level embarrassing.β That gets a giggle out of her. βBut, I figure, youβve seen the absolute worst of my life this week and you havenβt run away, so it can only get better from here.β
βI wouldnβt run away, Daddy. I want to be there for you. Itβs helped, right?β
βYes, sweetheart. Itβs helped.β
βAnd I want to tell you things. Important things.β Something shifts in her eyes and they fill with darkness, then with tears. βIβm just afraid that you wonβt want me as your little once you know those things about me.β
What the hell is this? Is she about to reveal some deep secret over waffles and Eggs Benedict? And what could be so bad? What could be worse than the horrors my life has spat at her this week?
βOther than you being a serial killer, there is nothing you could tell me that would make me not want you as my little girl. Are you really a serial killer? Is Matthew actually buried in your garden rather than living it up in Costa Rica?β
She begins laughing, and I join her, taking both of her hands in mine and rubbing her knuckles with my thumbs.
βNo, Daddy,β she says when our shared laughter dies down. βIβm not a serial killer.β
βIβm not afraid of your secrets, Emmy,β I say, looking straight into those big eyes so she knows Iβm serious. βWhenever and whatever you want to tell me, I will listen. In fact, I think weβll set aside time for that. And there wonβt be any repercussions to anything you might say. It will just be Emmyβs time to tell her daddy whatever she wants. What do you think about that?β
She nods. βIβd like that a lot.β
βGood girl. You ready to do really exciting PI work? I figure we have seventy-two hours of CCTV footage to watch. Seventy-two hours of mostly empty hallway. Sounds knicker-gripping, huh?β
She giggles. βYes, Daddy.β
βCβmon, beanie. Letβs go play detectives.β
Still giggling, she lets me lead her out of the booth and back to our cabins.
* * *
Because my cabin is still cold enough to give me icicles on my eyeballs, we set up shop in Emilyβs. We position our laptops side-by-side on her desk. I like the way they look next to each other. My roses nod in a glass block next to Emilyβs computer. I take one out and tickle her nose with the soft petals.
Giggling, Emily starts up her computer and opens a program.
βWhatβs this?β
βItβs a timeline program I wrote.β
βYou wrote?β
She nods. βI took a class on Unix coding through Open University.β She bites her lip. βI told you, Iβm really scattered.β
I chuckle and stroke her soft curls. βI like your scatter, sweetie.β
She shows me how
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