Page 219 of Broken Daddy
She opened her eyes to see him crouched in front of her. Lord, he was so gorgeous. With a smile, she reached out to cup his hand. “So pretty.”
“Baby girl, Daddies are not pretty. Manly, sexy, handsome, yes. Pretty, no.”
“Pretty Daddy. So handsome.”
He shook his head at her and then stood before lifting her into his arms. He carried her over to the small dining table.
With its wooden, hard chairs.
“I needs a cushion.”
“No, naughty girls that got their bottoms spanked have to sit on the hard surface.”
“I’m sure that’s against Little laws.”
“Maybe you should have been a lawyer,” he told her as he put the bib around her.
“Oh no. I’m not smart enough for that.”
“Devi,” he growled. “That’s putting yourself down.”
She froze. Drat.
“I can’t tell the difference between putting myself down and the truth.”
He sat and turned her chair to face him. Then he cupped her chin. “If it’s something mean about you, then it’s putting yourself down. You are smart enough to do anything you want.”
“You really think so?” she whispered.
“I know so. Is there something you want to do? You said you went to community college for a while?”
“I took art classes.” She grimaced. “Not sure that’s going to be a possibility anymore.”
“We’ll make sure it is. It’s early days. Your arm will get better.”
She nodded even though she didn’t feel a lot of hope.
He stood and grabbed a bowl of spaghetti and her sippy cup.
But he didn’t put the bowl in front of her. No, he set it in front of himself and started twirling spaghetti around a fork.
“What’cha doing, Daddy?” she asked.
“Feeding you.”
Oh. She liked when he fed her. He placed the fork in front of her mouth and she ate with happy noises, taking sips of water in between.
“Daddy?” she asked once she was full and he was eating.
He always made sure that she ate first. It was so darn sweet.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“When do you have to go back to work?” It had been worrying her. That she was keeping him from his work. That she was costing him money.
“Hey, that’s not for you to worry about,” he said, taking hold of her chin and turning her to face him. “I have some leave saved and Kent isn’t the sort of boss to push for me to return when he knows you need me.”
“What about money?” she asked, feeling that familiar pang of worry in her stomach. “My medical bill must have been a lot. How much was it?”
