Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“Okay, Sir.”
But that didn’t feel right. She really wanted to call him Daddy.
He kissed her forehead and moved back to cooking.
“I guess I am pretty wonderful,” she said as she swung her legs again.
He turned and gave her a pointed look. “That’s one.”
“One? One what?” she asked, confused.
“One punishment. You were warned against swinging your legs in case you hurt your feet, weren’t you?”
“I might have been,” she prevaricated.
“Might have been? Are you trying to tell me that you can’t remember me warning you against doing that just five minutes ago?”
“It wasn’t five minutes ago! It was at least ten, perhaps even fifteen.”
“Ahh. So you do remember.” He poured the egg mixture into the pan before turning to give her a stern look.
“Well, if I did remember then I would tell you that it was at least fifteen minutes ago, not five.”
“And that makes all the difference?” he asked.
“Sure. Because there is a statute of limitations on how long I hafta remember things.”
Whoa.
That sounded strange coming out of her mouth. She’d sounded so young.
And yet it also sounded exactly right.
“I’m pretty sure that there is no statute of limitations on how long you have to remember the rules,” he replied as he folded the egg mixture over.
Wow.
He was like a proper chef. It was hot.
Especially since she could barely cook toast. It always came out crispy.
It’s because toasters had it out for her.
“Um, toasters have it out for you?” he asked, looking slightly concerned.
Shoot.
“I said that out loud, huh? That was more of an internal thought. It wasn’t really intended for external conversation.”
An amused look filled his face. “Do you often have internal thoughts like that?”
“Well, not that often. But occasionally.”
He plated up the omelet.
“Where’s yours?” she asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, neither am I!” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’ve heard your stomach rumble three times since you’ve been sitting there. And unless you want to spend some time in timeout for lying, I suggest you don’t say anything more.”
Wow.
Timeout?
That did not sound fun.
“Timeout is where all toasters should go,” she grumbled.
He placed the plate on the counter next to her, then forked some up. To her shock, instead of offering it to her, he blew on it.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he pressed it against his lips. “Are you kissing it? Wow, that’s taking the term, eat what you love to a whole new level.”
“First, I don’t think that’s a saying. Second, I’m not kissing it, I’m checking the temperature. I don’t want it to burn you.”
Was he serious?
That seemed like something that someone in a romance novel would do. Not something in real life.
Then he placed the fork in front of her mouth. “Eat.”
She stared at him for a long moment before opening her mouth.
Oh wow.
Flavor burst across her tongue. “That’sreallygood.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he ordered as he forked up some more food. “But I am glad you like it. Now, back to the statute of limitations on remembering rules that I give you. There is no such thing. If I tell you to do something or not do something, then you’re expected to remember that. Forever.”
She chewed her next mouthful. “That seems crazy. What if I live until I’m a hundred and four? Do you really expect me to remember something you told me when I was twenty-three?”
“Yes. I do.”
Sheesh.
“When I’m a hundred and four how old will you be?” she asked.
“Still older. And still able to spank your butt,” he replied.
Yeah. She had no doubt of that.
“Is there any food you don’t like, Little one?” he asked as he fed her some more omelette.
She wrinkled her nose. “Anything gray or green. Sometimes yellow things.”
“Gray, green, or yellow?” He gave her a stern look. “Those aren’t foods, they’re colors. You can’t rule out entire food groups.”
“It’s not entire food groups. And I like some things in those colors. Like green grapes. I like green grapes. It’s just that most green things are gross. Like broccoli and peas. Peas are evil.”
“Peas are evil?”
“Yep. They go everywhere and they won’t stay where you put them. They’re evil and mean and I refuse to eat them.” She crossed her arms over his chest and nodded.
“Well, I can’t argue with evil peas,” he replied. “I definitely don’t want you to be infected by their evil.”
“I’m glad you understand. I’m full now. Need more coffee.” She tried to slide off the counter, but he placed his hand on her chest.
“You can’t get off the counter on your own,” he told her.
“Sure, I can. You want me to show you?” she asked, trying to move again.
“No,” he said. “I know you can do it, but you won’t do it. Because it’s my job to keep you safe and you could hurt yourself if you jumped off on your own.”
She didn’t see how. She’d jumped off balconies two stories high and not hurt herself.