Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

It was all just part of his charm.

He carried her into the kitchen and set her down on the counter. Then he ran his hands over her, checking for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Daddy.”

“Could have hit your head. Broke your neck. Smashed your nose. Twisted your foot. Banged your toe.”

Banged her toe? She’d done that twice this morning already.

Although perhaps she wouldn’t tell him that. He seemed stressed enough as it was.

He leaned his hands on the counter on either side of her. “You took ten years off my life, baby doll.”

“Bet you’re glad you don’t have hair to pull out huh, Daddy?”

“No more running up or down stairs. No more running at all.”

That she could happily agree to. She nodded.

“Swear, I should’ve bought damn shin pads and a helmet for you,” he muttered.

She shrugged and went to slide off the bench. He turned and pointed his finger at her. “Stay.”

She waited until his back was turned to poke her tongue out at him.

“Saw that.”

Oh, he so did not.

“Ate it all?” He moved to where her empty plate was and gathered it up, placing it in the dishwasher. Shoot, she should have done that. She was becoming lazy.

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“For what?”

“Not tidying up.”

Way to be a terrible houseguest, Millie.

“Hey. Are you allowed to touch things in the kitchen?” he asked, placing his finger under her chin to raise her face up.

“No.”

“Then don’t apologize for following Daddy’s rules.”

She didn’t exactly follow them, though, did she? She hadn’t eaten the omelet and now her tummy was empty except for some licorice and chocolate.

Please don’t

let it growl.

Maybe she should ask for something else to eat. But then it would make it obvious she hadn’t had breakfast.

See the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Millie?

“Can I get down now?” she asked as he tidied up the kitchen.

“No.”