Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
I have a million questions, but I want to feed her first. My questions can wait until her tummy is full. In fact, her tummy growls again, so I grab a sippy cup from the cabinet, add a scoop of formula, and fill it with water.
Brea stares at me while I shake it, and she lowers her gaze to the cup when I hold it out to her. “That’s a sippy cup.”
“Yep.”
“You really take this Daddy thing seriously.”
“I do.” I give it a shake.
“Did you just put some powdered formula in it?”
“Yes, Little love. Trust me. You’ll like it. You guzzled it down several times yesterday.”
“I wasn’t even conscious.”
“True, but you were eager every time I put a nipple in your mouth. You would have balked if it hadn’t appealed to you.” I jiggle it again.
Brea slowly takes it from me.
Letting her think about it, I flip the sausages and resume scrambling the eggs.
Finally she tips the cup back and takes a drink. “Oh, that’s good.”
I grin. “Told you.”
“Why didn’t you give me pants?” she asks in an abrupt subject change.
“First of all, I don’t want to cover your wound. I want it to have air, and I want to be able to monitor it. Second of all, I’m not super fond of pants.”
“You don’t wear pants?” she blurts out.
I glance down. Currently I’m still wearing boxers. I glance at her, enjoying her wit more by the minute. “On women, naughty.”
“What if I prefer pants?” she challenges.
I remove the sausages from the pan and turn the burner down so I can slide over and address my mate more directly. With my hands on her hips, I look her in the eyes again. “Brea, you’re welcome to challenge me every step of the way. I’m sure you’re skeptical. You have no experience with lion shifters or the way my bite affects you. I’m a patient man. You will never anger me. In fact, I find I like the way you spar with me. We’ll tackle every topic one at a time. If you truly hate dresses, I’ll buy you shorts and pants, Little love. Okay?”
She gives a slight nod. “I’ve never worn dresses.”
I flinch. “Never?”
“Well, maybe when I was a toddler. I don’t remember. I’ve been a tomboy ever since I was old enough to pick up a stick and play in the dirt with my brothers.”
“Brothers?” The questions I have are mounting.
“Three of them. Jason, Kyle, and Gabe. I was the youngest.”
“Where are they now?”
Her face falls, and she looks down. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your surname, Little love?” I ask gently, trying to coax more information out of her.
“Reynolds.”
I have questions about her odd comment about not knowing where her brothers are, but we’ll come back to that. I kiss her forehead and move back to the pan. Pouring the eggs in slowly, I keep an eye on my mate. There was obviously a time when she had a good relationship with her brothers. She smiled when she spoke of playing in the dirt. But something changed. She doesn’t even know where they are?
While the eggs cook, I butter the toast and then carry everything to the table.
Lastly, I lift Brea from her perch on the counter, enjoying the way she wraps her legs around me as I move her to the booster seat I’ve attached to one chair.
She giggles when I set her panty-clad bottom on the seat. “Seriously? A booster seat?”
After buckling her in, I scoot her up to the table. “Yes, shorty. Have you noticed all of my furniture is custom made? Lion shifters tend to be taller and bigger than humans. I’m six-seven. All of the men in my pride are about the same height. Any of the furniture in our homes that is made of wood, we customized ourselves. With the booster seat, the table is just at the right height.”
She places her hands on the surface. “I guess you’re right, but I’m not sure how I feel about all this babyish stuff you own. And I’m not clumsy. I don’t need to be buckled in.”
I tip her chin back with two fingers. “Keeping you safe is always going to be my top priority. Don’t argue with Daddy about matters of safety. I’d have a heart attack if you fell off the chair and hit your head on the floor. Humor me.”
She sighs. “Okay…”
“Good girl.”
This makes her smile. And making her smile is my life’s goal.
Chapter Seven
Brea
Apparently my lion shifter can cook. Breakfast is delicious, and I love the way he puts just the right amount of food on my plate. If he were any other person, I would probably be annoyed by the way he’s so overprotective.
He hovers. Even when he’s not leaning into my space, he’s watching me out of his peripheral vision. Instead of pissing me off, I feel cherished.