Page 127 of Protector Daddy

“Oh my God.” I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. My gaze darted from one overstuffed swing to another, my eyes filling at the two smaller ones, size going down in graduated scale.

I moved forward to run my hand reverently over the largest swing, padded so thickly that just looking at it made me want to curl up and take a nap. And to read. I poked at the thick pink and purple and coral cushions and Harry fell out into my hands—not the real one, alas but my Kindle. And it wasn’t my broken Kindle, it was a brand new version of my poor departed one.

I gasped and flipped it open as new books flooded the screen until I was literally sobbing with happiness.

“Hey, hey, it’s not supposed to make you cry.” He turned me toward him and I blubbered helplessly, soaking his shirt while I mumbled my appreciation and random questions and clung to him and Harry as if they were my life rafts in a pink, purple, and coral storm.

“You didn’t see everything yet. Turn around.”

I turned and faced the wall and looked out of a window that hadn’t existed before now.

The painting took up most of the wall. Crescent Lake complete with ducks bobbing along the tranquil water filled my vision, just as if I was sitting by the lake to feed the ducks.

He’d given me my own lake to sit beside no matter the weather, all year long.

I couldn’t stop crying—until I saw the tiny blue alien waving from the corner, clutching a V in its bony hand. Then I started to laugh.

“What—” Christian came around to see what I was looking at and then he started to laugh too. “Fucking Van, going off-script as always.”

“You had Van do my painting. Though you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her,” he said resolutely. “I do not understand her, but I do not hate her.”

I grinned and threw myself in his arms. He didn’t falter or miss a step, just caught me as if he’d been doing it all his life. “You never miss a step. You’re always strong enough to hold me.”

He grinned down at me. “Baby, I was built to hold you.”

“And I was built to be held?” I sniffled and laughed. “See, I don’t have the catchy book lines. But I’m full of love for you. And appreciation. And I wanna rock your world like you’ve never, ever known.”

He brushed the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m onboard for all of that.”

“Me too. Just I don’t know how to tell you the sizes are a little off.”

He reared back. “What? Which? It’s okay, you can tell me. Anything can be fixed.”

I turned toward the three swings and gestured wildly to the two smaller ones. “Those two are for Reagan and me, right? I don’t think we can fit. Just will take a little expansion to make it work—why are you laughing?”

“Honey, those are for the baby and Boomer.” He rested his hands on my shoulders and turned me back toward him. “This room is all yours. Your sanctuary. But I wanted you to have room for the dog and the baby if you wanted to have them in here too. If not, it can just be yours.”

“Oh.” The tears were leaking again as I shifted back to the biggest swing. “This one is mine?” I touched each one of the pillows in turn. “It’s so beautiful. The wicker design is so understated and the colors are just perfect.You’reperfect.” I wrapped my arms around his waist again. “I mean, not really but your flaws work with mine, which is all that matters.”

He growled against my hair. “What flaws?”

“None, honey.” I eased back to look up at him. “Absolutely none. But I do want one adjustment.”

He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Not the sex swing business again. Reading is dangerous.”

“Sex swing? No way.” I eyed my beautiful swing again speculatively. “We can use it for that too?”

“No. Not this one. We’d have to build another one. Later. In the future.”

I looked up at the ceiling and the massive clamps. “Nah, this one should even be able to hold you. Money-saving if it’s dual purpose.” I grabbed his hand. “Let’s try.”

“Wait. You said you had adjustments to make?”

“You care about that more than debauching me on this pristine swing?”

His lips twitched. “Talk fast. I will need extra time to have Lucky and Moose fix this on almost Christmas Eve when we break the damn thing from vigorous thrusting.”

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