Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles by Frost, J (reading comprehension books .txt) 📕

six months later, when I was in England on a job, he showed up at my hotel and said he wanted to buy me a drink. Miranda had just left about an hour before, and I was sure he was there to deck me. But I went down and he bought me a drink and thanked me. He said if I hadn’t taken Miranda on, she’d have been dead.”

Dead? Why? “What did he mean?”

“She was out of control when we met. She was doing insane things to feel alive. Night diving with sharks. Racing on the Autobahn at a buck forty. Sport fucking at clubs with no safe word. Stupid, dangerous shit. Once I started topping her the crazy stopped. Heavy play gave her what she was missing. She settled and started taking her safety seriously. Colin said it had been the best year of their marriage. He was grateful to me.”

Weirder and weirder. “So he really was okay with it.”

“It seemed like it at the time. Some of the things Miranda said after she ended it made me realize she wasn’t truthful with Colin about what we did. What he calls me in the email? I’m pretty sure Miranda told him we were only having anal sex. Which was really fucking far from the truth.” He reaches over and shuts the laptop. “Enough. No more of this now. I don’t want to think about what Miranda’s done, or what Colin’s said, or what the fuck either of them were thinking. This is supposed to be your vacation. I’m not having you spend it on this ugliness.”

I stroke the back of his neck and cuddle close. He’s protecting me again. “You’ll still let me help with the research, though? Please?”

“Yes, baby, just not tonight. I had plans for dinner. I don’t want this to fuck up our time together. How about you put on a swimsuit and bring a cover-up and we’ll have a swim and eat at the Lido? Nice and casual. I haven’t even been in the pool yet. Have you?”

“No, not yet. Thank you for sharing with me.”

Some guys would have shut me out and left me wondering what I’d done wrong. Not Logan. My daddy communicates with me like no one else ever has.

“You’re welcome. I wanted you to know, because I’m obviously going to have to deal with this over the next few days. But it’s not going to ruin our time together, Emmy. I won’t let it.”

I believe him. He sounds in control again. This must have knocked him sideways. But instead of going into a funk, he’s compartmentalizing. Watching him cope with this tells me so much about the way he handles stress. I was impressed with Logan’s maturity before, but I’m doubly impressed now.

It’s a warning, too, though. I never want to be the thing Logan compartmentalizes.

* * *

After a swim and a play in the pool, Logan towels me off, holding me between his knees and making me feel wonderfully little. Before we began playing, I tried to stay in adult headspace, in case he wanted to talk more about Miranda, but when he started to relax, I let myself go. We played sharks-and-minnows and splash-Daddy and I can’t remember when I’ve had more fun in the water.

Once he’s pressed the water out of my hair, he sits me in front of him on the lounger while I show him how I brush it.

“Do you always start at the ends?” he asks, watching my strokes.

“Uh-huh. Otherwise it’s super-owie.”

He chuckles. I look over my shoulder at him and find him smiling his daddy smile at me. His pupils are back to normal size, and the corners of his eyes are crinkled with happy lines. I offer him the brush. When he takes it and begins brushing, I draw my hair over my shoulder so he can keep brushing while I sit back in his lap, cuddled up to his chest.

“Gorgeous,” he says, lifting up a hank and applying the brush, starting at the tips. I’m sure my hair doesn’t look gorgeous at the moment, damp and tangled, but when he gets it brushed out, it might. “You know, I’ve always preferred brunettes.”

If he prefers brunettes, why was he with Miranda? I’m assuming she’s blonde and blue-eyed, given his Aryan comment. But that’s not a question for right now, when Logan doesn’t want to think about her. I keep things light and little by teasing, “Does this mean I can’t I dye my hair pink? It’s my daddy’s favorite color.”

“Absolutely not. In fact, if you even cut an inch off without my permission, it’s going to be a lot of smacky-bottoms for you, little girl.”

I giggle. “Yes, Sir.”

“In fact, I’m pretty sure I owe you a bare-bottomed spanking for watching bad movies. And ten with Belphegor who’s very upset about his name.”

That tickles more giggles out of me. “That’s a lot of punishment for one little bottom.”

“It is,” he agrees. “We’ll save it for tomorrow morning. After this morning, I’m a convert to morning paddlings. We’re going to make those a regular thing.”

I tilt my head so I can see his face. He’s smiling his wolfy smile. It’s so good to see it again. Heat shoots through me all the way down to my toes. “That’s why Belphegor is your favorite paddle, isn’t it? Because it’s a wolfy paddle and you’re a wolfy-daddy.”

“That must be it. Nothing to do with the way it feels in my hand or the marks it leaves on pretty baby skin.” He kisses my temple and finishes brushing out my hair. “Ready for dinner?”

“Yes, Sir.” He won’t be ordering for me, since the Lido restaurant is a buffet, which makes me a little sad. But I’ll still have to ask permission to eat, and I’m sure he’ll cut up my food, which will keep me feeling little. When he hands me the brush, I twist around on the lounger, wrap my arms around him and give