The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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A tear drips onto the tomato before I even know Iβm crying.
Loganβs beside me a second later, moving the knife away and wiping my cheek with gentle fingers. βWhatβs wrong, little girl?β
βI had a bad thought.β
βA bad thought like you wanted to hurt yourself?β
I shake my head quickly. Logan knows I cut myself in high school. Heβs told me he worries I might hurt myself again if I get overwhelmed by dark thoughts. I have heard that horrible voice from time to time since meeting Logan, criticizing me, telling me Iβm not worthy of my daddyβs love. But itβs so much less than it was before I knew him. I feel like Iβm getting better every day at dismissing the ugly things it says, remembering that I belong to Daddy and that he holds me in his hands no matter what. I donβt want Logan to worry.
βIβm okay. Promise.β
He takes my face in his hands and looks at me, his dark eyes probing and intent. I meet his gaze for as long as I can.
βDo you want to tell me what the bad thought was?β he asks, his voice as gentle as his hands.
I shake my head. Weβve agreed that I always tell him when Iβm having bad thoughts, but I donβt have to tell him what they are. He asks, and if I can tell him, I do. But Iβm not ready to tell him about this yet. Not until Iβve figured out what to say.
He kisses my forehead, which makes me go nearly boneless with submission and love and everything I feel for him, because that kiss tells me he has me, and everything will be okay.
βIβll accept that for right now, little girl, but weβre having Knee Time tonight and I want to hear whatβs worrying you.β
βYes, Daddy.β
I can tell him whatβs worrying me without getting into my fear that heβll sell this house or asking permission to sell mine. Maybe if I tell him I know about the medical bills, heβll talk to me about them. Maman used to say, a problem shared is a problem halved. Even if I canβt help yet, maybe just talking to me about them will make Logan feel better.
His frowny line is gone by the time we eat dinner. Daddy loves my cooking, even when I sprinkle chia seeds on his salad and substitute quinoa for rice. He says he appreciates that Iβm helping him be healthy. Daddy was never really unhealthy, except his cholesterol level was a little high. But he has a sweet tooth and goes for carbs and processed sugar to satisfy it. I make him a healthy dessert every day, usually a fruit tart with a nut base because that seems to satisfy him the most, but today Iβve made blueberry, coconut, and cacao parfait because itβs lighter than a fruit tart and we both might appreciate something light after the richness of the steaks.
As weβre finishing the parfait, he takes my hand and squeezes my fingers in his. βSomething I want to talk to you about, little girl.β
Iβm all ears. My entire body becomes one big receptor, tuning in to take in every word, every nuance and inflection of his tone. I always listen carefully to what Logan says, but when he gives me a heads-up, I turn into a human Very Large Array.
βYes, Daddy?β
βYouβve been amazing these last couple of weeks, Emmy. Youβve gone so above and beyond for me. Hendry says Iβm far ahead of where she expected me to be in my recovery and thatβs down to you. Youβve never once whined or complained, even though I know you must have been frustrated and overwhelmed sometimes. Iβm blown away by your care.β
I feel the hot prickle in my eyes again. Iβm not upset, just moved by his praise. βTa very much.β
He squeezes my fingers again. βTa very much to you, little girl. I want you to know how much youβre appreciated. So, Iβm going to reward you as your daddy, and Iβm going to reward you as your Dom.β
A shiver runs through me. I canβt help it. Rewards from Daddy are super-sweet. Like the chain and charms I wear around my neck, which we both call a memory chain. But Iβm really, really hoping that someday heβll make it a collar. Rewards from Logan when heβs being domly are not sweet. Theyβre usually painful. In a good way, but still. As much as I want them, they also make me nervous.
βYour reward from Daddy is a kitten. I know youβve said youβre too flighty to take care of a pet. I donβt believe that but, even if I did, Iβd still want you to have a kitten. Iβll help you take care of it. It will become a part of your daily schedule. Would you like a kitty?β
I would love a kitty. I always wanted pets but Maman said I couldnβt have them because I was too irresponsible. My brother Francis had horrible, smelly turtles and gerbils that bit me when I tried to pet them, but I wasnβt allowed any pets. Even the baby squirrel I found after it had fallen out of its nest and took care of until it grew big, I wasnβt allowed to keep. Maman made me release it as soon as the vet said it was big enough to fend for itself. Ash was allergic to anything with fur, so I didnβt have any pets while we were married, either. Once I was out on my own, I always worried that Maman was somehow right: I wouldnβt be able to care for a pet and it would die and it would be my fault. With Logan to keep me structured, I have no such fear.
I have to wipe my eyes and blink very hard before I can answer.
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