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

The thought of Lizbeth boycotting my wedding makes me flinch. Another thing I need to reward my baby girl for: winning over my sister.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell Jiro. “The family problems are more on my side. My sister’s a tough sell. She’s seen too many women come and go out of my life. But Emmy won her over.”

Jiro holds up his mug like he’s giving a toast. “Your little has a knack for that, I think.”

“She does.”

“You’ve won me over as well,” Jiro says. “When I agreed to come to New York, I believed you had some ulterior motive in opening your home to us. But having spent time with you and Emily, I don’t think that any longer. I’m ashamed of my suspicions now. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. We’re strangers. I don’t blame you for questioning my motives. I also won’t make any secret of the fact that I’m hoping we can figure something out to help Rick. That’s an ulterior motive, I guess.”

“I don’t think it counts as an ulterior motive if you admit it up front,” Jiro says with a grin. He takes his phone out of his breast pocket and sets it between us on the couch. “I mentioned I had some thoughts on how we might address Mr. Errol’s problem. You might want to take a look through them.”

He taps on his phone and navigates to a folder with Rick’s name on it. Opening it, he angles the phone so I can read.

* * *

Ten minutes later, my own phone emits a soft whimper. Emily’s voice rises from it in a whisper, “Daddy?”

I pick up my phone and open the house security app, then flick down to the bedroom monitor. Emily’s sitting up in bed with her knees pulled to her chest and her hands over her face.

“Sorry,” I tell Jiro. “I’m going to have to cut this short. It’s been a stressful week and Emily’s having nightmares. Looks like she’s just had another one.”

“No, my apologies for keeping you up. Please, let me take care of these while you see to your little.” He picks up our empty tea mugs. “See you in the morning.”

“Thanks.” I push myself up off the couch, feeling the stiffness in my leg from sitting for too long. And, if I’m brutally honest, from carrying Emily up the stairs earlier. But it’s stiffness, not a spasm. I just have to keep working it. It eases as I move, and by the time I reach the bedroom, there’s not even a pull when I sink down on the bed and gather Emily into my arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s here.”

“Where’d you go?” she asks. Her voice is small and high, but not tearful.

“I was having a cup of tea with Jiro. Did you have a bad dream?”

She nods against my shoulder. “But I’m okay now.”

“Daddy will be the judge of that,” I tell her. “First, you’re going to have a drink of water. Second, we’re going to have a big cuddle. And third, you’re going to tell Daddy all about your dream so your mind can process what scared you and you can go back to sleep.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl.” I grab a bottle of water off the nightstand and give it to her to drink while I strip off my shirt and turn on the air conditioner. The day was hot but pleasant; it’s gotten stickier through the evening which is probably a sign of bad things to come weather-wise tomorrow. We’ll sleep better with the air con on.

When I have her snuggled down, I coax her nightmare of out her. No blue-eyed animals tonight. Instead, it was the screams of Draco Malfoy that woke her as he was pinned down in the marshes near the Burrow and raped by Greyback, the evil werewolf.

I don’t need a degree in psychiatry to figure out the meaning of this dream, either, given how often she calls me her Wolfy-Daddy. She’s afraid of how much sex, particularly anal sex, is going to hurt in the wake of her punishment.

“Just a dream, baby girl. Just a dream. Do the werewolves in your book hurt their mates when they take their bottoms?”

I know there’s anal in her werewolf books because we had a long discussion about the merits of “writing from what you know” after I took her ass. It was the most insight I’ve had into Emily’s writing. Generally, I don’t stick my beak in, preferring to just support her, and schedule enough time for her to write every day so she can meet her publishing deadlines. But I’ll admit I find her use of our kinky play in her books intriguing.

“No, Daddy. My werewolves are gentle with their mates.”

“Wolfy-Daddy will be gentle with your bottom when he takes it again, don’t you worry, little girl. Besides, don’t you think Draco deserves a bit of payback, given all the times he’s been a pain in Harry Potter’s ass?”

She giggles sleepily. “That’s harsh, Daddy.”

“Karma’s a bitch.” I nuzzle her and then draw her face up to mine for good-night kisses. “Love you so much, my baby.”

“Love you more than Hiccup loves Toothless, Daddy.”

I chuckle, my lips buzzing against hers. “Pretty sure Hiccup isn’t fucking Toothless, little girl.”

“No, because that would be bestiality, and DreamWorks doesn’t do bestiality, Daddy. But if he was, there would be butt stuff.”

“Would there now?”

“Definitely. Can I have Wolfy-Daddy’s penis in the morning?”

“No promises, but I’ll take a look and see how you’re doing.”

“Night-night, Daddy.”

“Night-night, sweetheart.”

She cuddles down on my shoulder, and when I’m sure she’s deeply asleep, I roll her over so I can spoon her. My brave little girl deserves to sleep cradled in her daddy’s arms.

* * *

Blunts takes up a full city block, the long brick frontage broken by arched windows that allow no view of the interior. No red carpet. No neon signs. There’s a single entrance with a brass plaque