Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
“Urgh!” She slammed the pantry door closed. Unfortunately, it was one of those soft-close doors, so it didn’t make a satisfying noise as it shut.
And that irritated her too!
“What did the pantry door do to you, baby?” Trent asked as he walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a red and black flannel shirt and a pair of worn jeans.
God. He looked good enough to eat.
He’d just been on the phone to his brothers, explaining everything. He should be there, having fun. Not putting up with her and her bad mood.
“Nothing,” she muttered, trying to push her bad mood to one side. “Is Ben good? Not mad at me?”
He frowned, staring at her for a long moment. Then he drew a stool out from under the kitchen island and crooked a finger at her.
“Come here.”
“Actually, I was just thinking that I’d go do some work.”
“You have anything that needs to be done urgently?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to lie, then thought better of it. “No.”
“You had breakfast?”
“No. I can’t find anything to eat.”
He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything about the full pantry of food behind her.
“Come here, baby.”
“Really, I think it would be better if I just went to my studio.”
“Baby girl, you don’t want me to have to come and get you,” he warned.
Crap. She had to walk past him to get out of the door, anyway. And she had the feeling that he wasn’t going to just let her go.
With a sigh, she stomped over to him. He grabbed her around the waist and drew her between his spread legs. Then he gently grasped her chin, tilting her face back.
“Headache?”
She sighed. Damn it. He knew her too, well.
“Yes. And I’m feeling a bit, um, well, grouchy.”
His lips twitched. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Daddy!” She slapped her hand down lightly on his arm.
His face softened. “You’re tired, grouchy, and you have a headache. Too much stress and not enough sleep.”
None of it was a question, but she nodded in reply, anyway.
“I have the cure for all of that.”
“You do?” she asked.
“Yep. Daddy’s going to take charge today.”
Relief filled her. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
“I’m going to get you some painkillers and make you some breakfast. Is there anything you feel like?”
She sniffled. “There’s nothing, Daddy. I’m hungry, but I don’t want to eat anything. It all makes me feel yuck.”
“All right, precious girl. Daddy will sort it out. First, let’s get you settled on the sofa with a blanket and Scruffy Dog.”
Standing, he picked her up and carried her out to the sofa, setting her down on it. She was wearing a pair of loose pants and a huge black hoodie. He frowned at her outfit. “I’ll get you dressed in some fun clothes.”
She didn’t really feel like fun clothes, but she nodded. It wasn’t long until he returned, carrying a quilt, some clothes, and Scruffy Dog.
Dropping it all, he handed her Scruffy Dog before walking away again.
When he came back this time, he had a bottle of liquid painkiller and a small measuring cup.
He poured the painkiller into the cup and held it out to her.
“I don’t like it, Daddy. It tastes so artificial.”
“It’s this or pills, baby.”
She was notoriously bad at swallowing pills. “I don’t want either.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, you know, I might have some suppository painkillers.”
Oh, heck no.
“I’ll take the liquid stuff! I’ll drink down the yucky stuff!” she said, jumping to her feet and practically leaping at him.
Luckily, he must have figured out her next move because he grabbed her, pulling her close with one arm as he held the cup away from him so it didn’t spill.
“All right, brat,” he murmured. “Calm.” He sat her back down and she took her medicine like the good girl she was.
“Let’s get you dressed in some proper clothes. I’m going to make French Toast for breakfast.”
“That’s just what I feel like, Daddy,” she told him as he dressed her in a pair of black tights, then a red pleated tartan skirt. Finally, he slid on a red, long-sleeved T-shirt and a green fluffy sweater with a picture of a deer on the front. She loved this sweater, and it felt so good when she rubbed the material over her face.
Sighing, she felt far happier as he settled her on the sofa under the blanket with Scruffy Dog and a sippy cup of water.
“I think you’re probably dehydrated. Which is part of the reason you have a headache. So I want all of this sippy cup gone by the time I return with your breakfast. After breakfast, if you’re feeling better, we can go to your playroom for a while. This afternoon, while you nap, I’ll catch up on some things.”
“No nap!”
He gave her a stern look. “Yes, you will have a nap.”