Page 35 of A Daddy for Christmas 2: Kitt

“Why do I have to clean up?”

“Because I’ve been driving all day, and I’m the one who shopped. It won’t kill you to do a little something to help out.”

He shot me a dirty look, and I went over to sit by the fire and enjoy my drink while he huffed and puffed and banged things around for a while, no doubt trying to get a rise out of me, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction.

Chapter Seven

I had noticed that whenever he was feeling uncertain or afraid or whatever big emotion he was feeling at the time, he acted out. Maybe it was to get my attention, like a bratty sub, or maybe he was having trouble handling his emotions. Right now, I thought it was because he was in a strange place, and he wasn’t sure about what was going to happen to him, so he was trying to pick a fight and get me to react. I decided he needed help calming down a little before bedtime.

“I’m finished with the dishes,” he said, a few minutes later. “Now what do you want me to do? Mop the floors? Wash all the windows?”

“Right now, I want you to apologize for that smart attitude. I mean it, Kit. I won’t put up with it.”

He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, but those eyes were still flashing. He opened his mouth to say something else, and I held up a hand.

“No. From now until I tell you, you’re on speech restrictions. The only thing—and I mean the only thing—you’re allowed to say is ‘Yes, sir.’”

He stomped his foot and glared at me so hard it must have hurt. He folded his arms, and I could see the thoughts tumbling around in his head. He wanted to smart off to me so bad.

“I’d hate to spank that ass at Christmas, but I will. Go ahead and test me.”

He thought it over—and it was a real struggle. Then finally, mind made up and no doubt knowing I wasn’t kidding, he bit out the words, “Yes, sir.”

“Well, all right. Now, let’s see,” I said, ignoring his dirty looks and keeping my tone level. “Do you want to watch a Christmas movie?”

He nodded.

“What’s that?” I said, cupping my ear.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well good. I have a lot of different streaming services here.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, still so huffy.

“Got anything else to say?”

He shook his head, still glaring.

“You can write me a note if you need to.”

He stood in the kitchen, determined to be a disagreeable little shit. I could only imagine what would be on that note. In his world right then, any attention was good, whether it was negative or positive. He was hugging himself, and I thought he might be cold, but was ready to cut off his nose to spite his face rather than write a note of apology and be good. I turned on the big screen TV and patted the sofa next to me.

“Sit over here and wrap up in this fur throw until the house warms up.”

He just stood there so I made my voice more stern.

“I’m not asking. Now do it.”

“Yes, sir!”

He flounced over and threw himself down beside me, pulling the throw over himself but made damn sure not to get too close to me. He was still pouting, so I let him and found a Scrooge type movie I hadn’t seen before on Netflix and settled back to watch it, sipping my drink and not giving him so much as a glance.

This version of the Dickens story was a fairly new musical with Ryan Reynolds and Will Ferrell. Pretty soon, I noticed that it seemed to be catching his attention. But the heat of the fire as it warmed the room, the soft, fur blanket and the dim light soonmade him start blinking his eyes and he rested his head on the back of the couch. After half an hour, he was softly snoring.

I thought I should probably move him to the bed, but by that time, I was just too comfortable and warm to get up myself. I put my own head down on the back of the couch and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up a few hours later, and I must have gotten cold at some point, because I was flat on my back, with the fur throw—complete with its warm, soft inhabitant—stretched out over me. Kitt had snuggled his face into my throat and had wrapped his compact little body completely around mine.

“Hey,” I said softly, so as not to startle him. “We need to get up and go to bed. It’ll be more comfortable in there.”

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