Page 17 of Daddy's Naughty List

“I’m thinking you’ll always want to give more,” he murmured. “I’m also thinking you’ll forget what you need.”

“You say that like it’s bad.”

Laughing softly, he nodded as he led her to the play area where Ian and Valentina waited with a large Belgian mare. Ian grinned as he settled three children on the horse’s broad back. Valentina and Kate took up positions as side-walkers to ensure their safety.

“Can Cinnamon fly, Mr. Ian?” one asked.

“She sure can!” Ian quickened his pace, making the kids squeal with delight. “But only when everyone is asleep and dreaming of Christmas treats.”

Susan smiled and tightened her fingers around his hand. “I think you’re right.”

“About what?”

“It’s hard to remember what I want for myself when I see their joy.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, then squeezed him with a hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Slowly, making sure not to scare her, he returned her hug. “You’re not the only one who likes to make other people happy.”

She giggled and pulled back far enough to look at him. “Does that mean you’ll tell me your plans for the weekend?”

“Nope.” He turned until they could see the kids enjoying the draft horse pony rides. “That would spoil the surprise.”

Susan

After all the children, and more than a few of their mothers, got rides on Cinnamon, Ian loaded her into a large horse trailer, then drove away with Dr. Lopez. Susan relaxed, letting her shoulders drop as the kiddos raced to the playground.

Between planning the Snow Park party and playing elf to Walt’s Santa, she was exhausted after her long day, but it was a good tired because of how much she’d accomplished.

She almost felt like she was dreaming. Who knew she’d be able to plan a whole party by herself? Best of all, she had fun doing it—once she got over her nerves.

Maybe the rest of what Kendra wanted her to do would be just as amazing.

“We did good,” she murmured, enjoying Walt’s warmth against her. “Thank you for being Santa for them.”

“It was my pleasure.” He grimaced and adjusted the pillow tied to his abdomen. “Do you mind helping me with my costume again? We’ll head out for our weekend after we change.”

“Not at all. I?—”

A child screamed, a bitter, fearful cry of pain, and she spun to face the playground.

No.

She froze, paralyzed as Noah Turner, one of the worst of the Shepherds, grabbed his daughter by her hair and dragged her from the playground. When her mother tried to stop him, he punched her and kept moving.

Be sweet, Susan. Behave. Be good. You know better than to fight.

“No!”

Walt’s hand tightened on her arm, but she pulled free and crossed the playground at a dead run.

“Susan! Stop!”

She slammed into Noah hard enough to knock the wind out of herself, making him lose his grip on the little girl’s hair and fall to the ground with her on top of him.

“Bitch!”

Without conscious thought, her hand cracked across his face. Still cursing her, he returned the blow, making her cheek throb, but she didn’t stop hitting him—not even when the fury in his eyes turned to fear, or when his nose started bleeding.

For the first time in her life, Susan wanted to hurt someone. Needing to see more blood, she punched him in the nose again and smiled when she heard a crack.

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