Page 73 of Stolen Kiss

Jensen

Shit.

I forgot to set the alarm.

I knew we had overslept when I felt another presence in the room. It had been two weeks now since Elodie learned how to climb out of her crib. It wasn’t safe, and I thought now might be a good time for the big kid’s bed I had been thinking about getting her.

But right now, I had another, more pressing matter.

I peeked one eye open, and sure enough, my daughter was sitting on the bed, watching me and Emilia sleep together. I still had my arms wrapped around Emilia’s waist, her body close to mine.

She was sleeping soundly, and if I listened closely, I could hear the cute little snore she let out every once in a while.

Elodie brought her finger up to her mouth, as if to tell me to be quiet because Emilia was sleeping. I pulled away from Emilia and sat up on the bed. Elodie wasted no time. She climbed over Emilia’s body and onto my lap.

I held my breath when her foot accidentally kicked Emilia on the side, but that didn’t seem to wake her. Elodie turned and looked up at me. Her hair was a big mess from obviously having woken up, yet her gray eyes were bright this morning, with not a hint of sleep in them.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked her.

She splayed her hands on my chest before moving them up to my collar and playing with my shirt. I waited for her to gather her thoughts.

She looked like she wanted to tell me something. “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“Lodie gots to go potty.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my throat before I quickly shut my mouth, looking over at Emilia. She must have been exhausted last night.

“All right, little princess.”

I carefully lifted Elodie up in my arms and climbed off the bed. I brought her to her room to change her diapers. Elodie had just started potty training, but she still went to sleep with a diaper on. I was happy to note there had been no accidents last night.

It wouldn’t be long until I would have her fully potty trained, thank fuck.

I helped her onto the toilet, and she let out a little song while she did her business, reminding me of Emilia last night.

I had been standing outside the door, afraid she might fall without my help, and when she sang “Toxic” by Britney Spears, I almost laughed out loud.

Fuck, but she was cute.

“Lodie done, Daddy.”

“Okay, princess,” I said, helping her clean up before lifting her up in my arms. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “Millie.”

“She’s sleeping,” I said.

She shook her head again, harder this time. “Millie.”

“Elodie,” I said, making my voice firm.

She wiggled in my arms. I let her down, not wanting to hurt her in her struggle. But my mistake was not holding onto her as soon as I put her down.

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