Daddy's Enticing Little Princess (Wounded Daddies 12)
CHAPTER TWO
Neil
I’m in trouble.
Dinner isn’t even over and I’m in trouble.
I glance over at the girl singing. She’s not the regular girl. She’s damned good as she sings a rendition of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. “Is this singer new?” I ask.
Sarah Jean giggles. Jackson glances a warning at her. “Little girl,” he says sternly.
She stops giggling and says, “Sorry, Daddy.”
“You weren’t laughing at me, little girl.”
She looks at me and says, “Sorry, Neil. That’s Rollie. She’s Carl’s little girl. Wife, too. She was the singer here that really put this place on the map but now Rollie has so many professional appearances she doesn’t get to play here very often. I guess I thought it was funny because it’s kind of like if Dolly Parton sang in Dollywood instead of the other people and someone asked if she was new.”
I smile and say, “It’s okay. I wasn’t offended.”
I look at Tabitha. “Did you know about her?”
Tabitha shakes her head. “It’s my first time here. I’m not a… um, I’m not a little girl.” She bites her lip and says, “Not yet.”
I’m already in trouble with her but now I’m in a hell of a lot more trouble. Not yet. Yet. Dear God, she wants to be a little girl. It’s insane for me to reply with, “Well, I’m not a Daddy right now,” but I do. Then, I add, “I’ll be one again but not yet so you and I are both in the same boat. We don’t know the singer and we’re not…” I chuckle. “Okay, similar boats. Not the exact same boat.”
She giggles and I’m in even deeper trouble. She says, “Do you know who Dolly Parton is?” I nod and she says, “Well then we have something else in common, too.” She blushes as she says the words and the color on her cheeks is just perfect. With her reddish-brown hair gathered up in pigtails with ribbons, she just looks magnificent. It doesn’t hurt that she’s also wearing a pink cashmere sweater that adds to the whole effect.
At the moment, I can’t see her light, stonewashed jeans or her pink tennis shoes but when I first saw her, my fate was already sealed.
I’m in trouble.
Big trouble.
“What’s your favorite Dolly Parton song?” I ask and feel like an idiot for asking.
She seems a little embarrassed just talking. She says finally, “It came from a movie. Um… The Best Little uh, House in Texas.”
Sarah Jean says, “Whorehouse!” and then covers her mouth like she’s just said the evillest thing on Earth.
Jackson can barely keep from laughing as he says, “Don’t interrupt, little girl.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” she says, “and sorry Tabby.”
“Tabby,” I say. “I like that.”
Tabitha blushes and says, “You can call me that if you want.”
“So, tell me, Tabby,” I say, “What’s the song?”
As though the fates want to make a point, Rollie says into the microphone, “This is one of my favorites. Oldie but goodie.”
As she starts to play, Tabitha sits up straight. “This is it! This is the song. Hard Candy Christmas!”
She’s so absolutely thrilled I can’t help but suddenly, almost desperately, desire her. I say, “Would you like to dance, Tabby?”
She looks at me in wonder and nods eagerly. I stand up and do my best to ignore the knowing smile from Jackson and the happy smile from Sara Jean. “I’ll help you up,” I say, as though getting up from a chair is something stupid or silly.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she says as she takes my hand. I don’t think she even realize she’s called me that. I realize it, though. I see Sara Jean positively glowing so she realizes it. Jackson continues with the knowing smile, also realizing it.