The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) 📕

so I can ice it. Give it a minute to finish perking and then I’ll make a normal pot.”

“I’ll take the Hulk version. I’ve got a photoshoot in two hours. I need the caffeine.”

“Okey-dokey.” I get cups out of the cupboard and line them up on the counter. While the coffee finishes, I pour the first batch of batter into the waffle-maker.

Everyone else shuffles in while I’m pouring and flipping. The only one not in their underwear is Daisy, who’s wearing the dress she wore yesterday, probably because she didn’t wear any underwear. Rick’s just wearing tight, black briefs. Ew, more of his skin than I ever wanted to see. I know people pay to see him naked, and, objectively, he’s a good-looking man, but I can’t get beyond his essential creepiness. He joins Max and Daddy in front of the TV where they’re watching the sports scores.

Justine, who is the last upstairs, looks freshly showered, with her long hair in a damp ribbon down her back. She’s also the only one who looks like they slept really well. Maybe she’s a morning person, or maybe no one stole her covers.

She comes into the kitchen, gives me a hug and a peck on the cheek, and picks up a pair of coffee cups. “Can I get coffee for anyone?”

I direct her to the pitcher I use for making iced coffee and the ice maker. Once she’s got the iced coffee made, I take a break from flipping waffles to take a cup to Daddy. He pulls me in against his side and kisses my forehead. “Thank you, baby doll.”

“Welcome, Daddy.”

“Lizbeth called.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and flaps it back and forth in his hand. “I told her we’d call back after breakfast. Sounds like they had a great trip.”

“I’m sorry we missed it.” I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him under his jaw.

He tips his head down and looks me in the eye. “Next year, huh?”

The breath catches in my chest. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. Stupid happy, I nod. “Yes, Daddy. Next year.”

He smiles and kisses my forehead again. “Need help with anything?”

“No, Daddy, I’ve got it.”

When he lets me go, I skip back into the kitchen, despite the butt plug.

* * *

Lucy’s the last to leave. She and Logan go into his office after breakfast and I know they’re negotiating. I’m not sure if Daddy will do a contract with her the way he has with me. I hope not. That would hurt somehow, and I don’t know why, but as I stare blindly at my laptop, on which I’ve written two whole words since Daddy shut the office door, I just know that would really, really hurt.

Sable curls on the breakfast table next to my computer, occasionally batting at my fingers, which are resting, unmoving, on the keys. I reach over and pet him. Seeing him, touching him, the kitty that my daddy gave me, that he feels I’m responsible enough to have, makes me feel better. But I still wish Lucy would leave.

How am I going to deal when she comes over to do a scene?

My laptop dings and the picture of the Avengers appears, pointing at me, reminding me that I should be writing. And I should. But every time I try to focus on the scene, a battle scene that should be holding my complete attention, my thoughts are pulled back to what’s going on behind the closed office door.

The door opens and I quickly close my laptop.

Lucy walks through the kitchen and sits down across from me at the breakfast table. “Logan’s just taking a call,” she says.

“Oh, okay. Are you two done? Do you want a drink or something?”

“We’ve got a little more to do. Logan’s having me go over the Blunts questionnaire again. I think we’ve got another page. I’ve had plenty of coffee, but if you have any juice, that would be great.”

“Pineapple or cran-raspberry?”

“Cran-raspberry, please.”

I get up and pour her a glass of the ruby-red juice before returning to the table.

“I don’t actually know what the Blunts questionnaire is,” I admit.

“It’s a pretty detailed questionnaire. Medical history, soft and hard limits, fantasies, submission goals, that sort of thing. It’s good, actually. I don’t think I’ve re-done my questionnaire since I started at the club. There’s some stuff that’s definitely changed.”

That doesn’t sound like a contract, and Logan didn’t have me do a questionnaire. Some of the tightness leaves my shoulders and the battle scene starts calling me.

Lucy puts her juice down and reaches across the table to rest her fingertips on my knuckles. “Am I fucking things up?” she asks.

She should be glad she doesn’t have a contract with Logan. He’d be washing her mouth out with soap before they even finished the questionnaire.

“How?” I ask. I’m not repeating the f-word. Not with Daddy less than forty feet away. He has Batman hearing when it comes to me swearing.

“You’ve barely said two words to me since I got here yesterday. This is the first time you’ve even looked at me. I don’t want Logan to top me if it means we can’t be friends.”

Shit, I’ve done a bad job of hiding my conflict. I turn my hand over, take hers in mine and squeeze it. “Sorry, I suck. I told Logan I was fine with it and I mostly am, I just have these stupid moments—”

“Are you angry? Jealous? Because you shouldn’t be. Logan isn’t interested in me.”

But she’s interested in him. I’ve seen it. She looks at him, and there’s longing. And Lucy could be a damn pin-up girl. A natural blonde with big hair and big breasts and long legs. I’ve seen all of her, several times, and there’s a lot to like. Add to that her bubbly, big-hearted personality and I’m having a hard time seeing why Logan wouldn’t fall for her.

“Sorry, like I said, stupid moments.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she