Page 26 of The Captain's Little Girl

“You’re going to make me go to bed early, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” she pouted.

“Close your eyes, baby girl.” Mark cleaned her face and smoothed over her neck and shoulder.

“It’s hard to be mad at you when you do that,” she protested with a yawn.

“You’ve deduced my secret plan, Cricket,” Mark complimented her with a laugh.

“Are you really going to read me a story?”

“Yes. I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay.”

Cricket fell silent as he washed between her legs. She was disappointed that he didn’t caress her. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze when he kissed her forehead.

“We have lots of time to play, baby girl.”

“Can you read my mind?” she whispered in awe.

“Just your expressive face, Cricket. Never doubt that I desire you. I plan to spoil you with pleasure.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

In no time at all, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and Cricket let Mark brush out her hair. She watched his intent face as he carefully unsnarled any tangles without tugging. Her heart melted. This man took such good care of her.

“Nightgown and in bed,” Mark instructed.

“I don’t have a nightgown.”

“You do now. Go look under your pillow.”

Cricket ran into the bedroom to flip over the fluffy pillow. A white cotton nightie with small flecks of color scattered all over it lay underneath. She held it tight against her body. “It’s beautiful.”

“Let’s see how it looks on, baby girl.” Mark helped her drop the towel to the carpet and pull the gown over her head. It hit her at mid-thigh, which was perfect.

Cricket twirled around and the material fluttered up. When his gaze focused on her rotating bottom, Cricket stopped with an ‘oops!’

“You are too cute, baby girl. Climb in bed and let me tuck you in.”

Mark boosted Cricket into bed with a guiding hand on her bottom. He pulled the covers up to her neck and folded them to fit under her chin. Holding a finger up for her to wait, he extinguished the overhead light and turned on the bedside lamp on his side of the bed. Mark grabbed a book from the lower drawer of his nightstand and sat with his back against the pillows and the headboard.

“Ready?”

“I guess,” Cricket said hesitantly.

Once upon a time, there was a brave young woman who loved her daddy very much.

“Like her daddy-daddy or her Daddy?” Cricket asked, knowing that was an essential part of the story.

“Like Cricket and Daddy,” Mark explained quickly, pointing to her first and then to him.

“Got it. Daddy with a capital D.”

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