Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Clean up!”
“What should we do next?”
“Put my toys in my playroom.”
“And what should we do last?”
“Put on Daddy number!”
“Molodets!” Igor encouragingly interjects.
“Moyzits!” repeats his daughter right before beginning to clean up.
“Thanks Daddy for the assist,” I coo at his reflection.
“Always, Nanny Joey.” An undeniably soft smile is shot my way. “Always.”
Ignoring the sugar plum fairy that’s inspired to do an encore performance in the pit of my stomach thanks to the expression isn’t easy, but it’s done.
Just like focusing on helping Bella collect her toys rather than watching her father collect his accessories.
Both parties finish their tasks around the same time except instead of helping Bella take her belonging back to where they belong once I’m on my feet, I inch over to Igor to point out his wardrobe mistake. “Your cuff links are effed up.”
His attention falls down to where I’ve motioned. “Damnit.”
“Tiny words. Tiny ears.”
“Swear I always mess ‘em up.” Another grumble of displeasure precedes him meeting my gaze. “Can you fix ‘em, please?”
I should really resist the urge to flirt yet can’t seem to stop myself, “Is Daddy inviting me into his personal space?”
Ugh.
What is wrong with me?
Is he right?
Do I need to stop watching romantic holiday comedies?
At least until I order a new vibrator since mine is magically nowhere to be found.
Every one of my seasonal Santa statues were in their typical storage locations between pairs of thick, fuzzy socks, yet the tiny clit toy I tend to keep in a hidden pocket behind my favorite snow globe and my Gizmo ornament I always hang from my bedroom doorknob – the first gift Berks ever gave to me – is just gone.
Like snowflake instantly melt in July non-existent.
The groan that instantly graces my ears at the same time he closes the gap between us is low.
Primal.
One breath away from being more animal than human and two away from making me beg for more.
“Good Beast practice, Daddy!” Bella abruptly compliments, sending him a single step backwards.
“Thanks, Princess,” he warmly retorts while I struggle to suck air back into my slightly burning lungs. “Appresh.”
Yeah, well, I don’t!
That shit has me thinking about shit I definitely should not.
And there is no curvy teapot to advise me otherwise.
Shit.
I am the curvy teapot who would advise me to go for it.
Except I can’t.
Won’t.
He is business.
This is not a moment for pleasure.
Even if I’m long overdue for it.
Or at least I think it’s long.
I still haven’t been able to find any notes about the missing months in my memory.
Clearing my throat occurs to collect my focus. “Arm?”
Ig extends one my direction granting me access to fix the crooked piece. “Are these Ds?”
“For Dalvegan.”
My fingers nimbly secure the first one in place.
“Hennington gave them to me the day they gave me the C.” Our eyes lock once more. “She definitely believes if you take care of your C, your C will take care of the rest.”
“You believe that?”
“Absolutely.” He waits until I begin fiddling with the other accessory. “Especially around here.”
There’s no stopping the smile that slips into place. “You tellin’ me you think I take good care everything?”
“Everything.” Igor lightly chortles. “Everyone.” When I’m finished, I glance up just in time to see another round of laughs leaving. “Everywhere. It’s Practical Magic witchcraft.” Delivering a playful swat to his lower stomach only causes him to chuckle more. “Ot-oh, Nanny Joey. Those don’t feel like gentle hands.”
I glance around the room to insure we’re alone prior to whispering out, “I will gently hand you your ass if keep talkin’ shit to me.”
“You kiss my kid goodnight with that mouth?”
The squawk of playful outrage results in more laughter from us both alongside a few more playful jabs from me.
It’s not like I could hurt him.
I know the graffitied brick wall he’s hiding underneath that button up.
I’m more likely to break my wrist on it than he is to even get a scratch.
“Daddy,” Bella interrupts, last of her play clothes tucked tightly to her chest, “when I done and ready have number on, can you write it on my cheek again?!”
“Of course, Princess.” All of a sudden, a wicked smirk I don’t approve of appears. “In fact, first, I’m gonna put it on Nanny Joey’s cheek. Next, I’ll do yours. And last, we’ll do Babushka’s if she’s here. Sound good?”
My mouth twitches to object when she squeals, “Yayyyyyy! We gonna match!”
Now feels like a good time to remind him his daughter is a person, not a nutcracker.
She shouldn’t be moved around or played with for his own personal amusement.
Bella takes off running out of the room leaving me to sassily state, “What if I don’t wanna wear you on my face?”
Igor’s cocky smirk is instant.
“Your number,” I hurry to correct, round face reddening at an alarming rate. “What if I don’t wanna wear your number on my face?”