Chapter 1
Frankie
Standing in Silver’s kitchen, her third glass of wine in hand, Frankie stared at the array of snack foods laid out on the island. Tiny quiches, little cocktail sausages wrapped up in some kind of pastry, various dips and chips. All of it looked and smelled delicious.
Too delicious.
As she scanned the offerings, her free hand drifted down to her stomach.
Her rounded stomach, which was already going to be poking out plenty tomorrow, despite the forgiving nature of the bridesmaid’s dresses Lottie had picked out.
The last thing she needed was to pig out tonight and end up hating herself in all of her pictures tomorrow.
But she really was hungry. Between the holidays and the wedding, she’d been able to keep herself and Holden busy enough for him not to notice her skipping meals.
It didn’t mean anything, though. It wasn’t like before. This was just for the wedding, and then she’d go back to eating regularly. Maybe she’d even confess that she’d been skipping meals. A long trip over Daddy’s lap would be heavenly after the stress of the wedding was behind them.
“Hey. You okay?”
Giving herself a mental shake, Frankie looked up and forced a smile for her best friend and bride-to-be. “I’m good. Sorry, just zoned out for a minute.”
“Uh-huh. And would that zoning out have anything to do with the fact that you haven’t eaten anything all night?”
Shit. Leave it to Lottie to see straight through her.
She could lie. Tell Lottie she’d eaten a big dinner before coming to Silver’s and she just wasn’t hungry. The last thing her friend needed was to be worrying about her matron of honor potentially putting herself back in the hospital the night before her wedding.
But she’d nearly destroyed their friendship with those same lies before, and she’d vowed never to do so again.
Since she couldn’t lie and she couldn’t tell the truth, she reached for a mini quiche and popped it in her mouth. “Happy?” she asked, her words muffled by the food filling her mouth.
Lottie grinned, her shoulders instantly relaxing.
“Very. The last thing I want is my wedding sending you into a spiral. Oooh, pigs in a blanket! You should try these, too. They’re amazing.
I didn’t think they would be, but Ruby talked me into trying some and oh my god.
Seriously. Who comes up with these things? ”
As she spoke, Lottie piled a plate high with various treats before shoving the plate into Frankie’s hand. The quiche was already sitting heavy in her stomach, but she didn’t want to worry Lottie, so she accepted the plate and followed her friend back out to the deck.
Settling in her chair again, she tried to focus on the conversation around her. But all she could think about was the plate of food balanced on her lap and how she was going to get rid of it without Lottie noticing.
Where was a loyal canine companion when you needed one?
The thought of quietly feeding Silver’s imaginary pup kept her amused for all of thirty seconds.
Which was about how long it took for Holden to enter the scene.
In her imagination, her Giant Silver Fox Daddy towered over her, his arms crossed and his face a mask of disappointment as he stared down at her.
“What are you doing, little girl?”
“Uhhh… nothing, Daddy.”
“Really.” Imaginary Holden raised a brow, pinning her with a look that always made her feel impossibly small. “Should I add lying to your punishment, as well?”
“No!” Even in her imagination she couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice. “I was just… sharing.”
“Are you sharing, or are you trying to hide the fact that you’re not eating again?”
“Excuse me a moment.” Cordelia’s too-calm voice snapped Frankie out of her daydream.
Shoving up from her chair, a thunderous expression on her face that had Frankie’s bottom instinctively clenching even though it wasn’t directed at her, Cordelia headed for the sliding door that led back into the house.
Just as she reached for the handle, Ivy appeared on the other side, a smug smile stretched across her face.
But Ivy’s smile faded when she spotted her furious Domme. And before Cordelia could yank open the door, Ivy let out a squeak of surprise and flipped the latch, locking Cordelia out.
Uh-oh. Naughty Ivy.
“Silver, do you have a key for this door?” Cordelia asked, again in that too-cool, too-calm tone that did nothing to hide her irritation.
All around them, the chatter and giggling fell silent and Silver cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Ah… I do, but I left my keys inside. Is it locked?”
“It is.” When Cordelia spoke again, she raised her voice enough for Ivy to clearly hear her through the glass. “Unlock the door, Ivy Mae.”
Pissed, and using Ivy’s middle name. Never a good sign.
“Uh-oh,” Lottie sing-songed with a drunken giggle. “Better do it Ivy. She sounds pissed.”
On the other side of the glass, Ivy danced from foot to foot, clearly at a crossroads and Frankie couldn’t help but wonder if they were about to get treated to Ivy getting her butt whooped right in front of them.
It wasn’t a common occurrence, but lately Ivy had been getting much bolder.
Something about discovering her hidden switchy side after Jacob came into the picture had activated her inner brat hard.
“Are you really mad?” Ivy asked, her voice tinged with worry.
“I am certainly getting there, little girl.” Cordelia’s voice was all Daddy, and Frankie had to suppress a shiver. “And if you don’t open this door right now our friends will have a front row seat to you getting your naughty bottom spanked bright red. One.”
Well that answered that question.
Fascination and sympathy warred inside Frankie as she watched the standoff, until Ivy finally opened the door and Cordelia announced she’d be taking her naughty babygirl upstairs for a bit.
They exited to a chorus of “Oooohs” as if Ivy was being called to the principal’s office. Which wasn’t too far off, really, though Frankie had a feeling Cordelia had something way more interesting than detention in mind for her babygirl.
“What do you think she did?”
Ruby’s curious question drew Frankie’s attention away from the door. “She locked Delia out of the house, that’s what she did.”
Looking thoughtful despite the glaze too much alcohol had given her eyes, Ruby shook her head. “No, Cordelia was gunning for her before that. Now I’m dying to know what happened.”
Beside her, Silver grinned and raised her wine glass in a toast. “Clearly we’re going to need a subbies-only sleepover after Lottie gets home from her honeymoon.
We haven’t had one in a while and clearly Ivy’s been getting up to some mischief and we all know Lottie will be getting into plenty of trouble of her own. ”
“Hey!” Feigning insult, Lottie tilted her nose in the air. “I can behave myself.”
Silver raised a brow in an almost eerie imitation of the kind of look their Daddies were always giving them. “For two whole weeks?”
“Yes.” A slow, sloppy grin spread across Lottie’s face. “Maybe. No, probably not. Okay, subbie sleepover it is!”
“You know Delia’s going to pout about it,” Ruby said with a giggle.
Letting out a derisive snort, Silver waved a hand as if batting away Ruby’s arguments.
“We’ll send her off with the other Daddies, they’ll keep her occupied.
And it will give them an opportunity to point out that they don’t get to crash our subbie nights either, which they love doing.
It isn’t often they get to call her out, so really, we’re doing them a favor, too. ”
“True…” Ruby’s gaze drifted toward the back door. “So… what do you think they’re up to?”
“I don’t know, but it’s got me wanting to make some trouble.” Lifting her glass to her lips, Lottie giggled. “Walking down the aisle with bruises on my ass feels rather appropriate.”
Lottie’s words landed like a rock in Frankie’s stomach.
Even though she’d been talking about making some fun trouble for Braden to punish her for, all Frankie could think about was how disappointed her own Daddy would be when he found out she’d been keeping secrets from him.
Secrets about her health, which was the one rule he never ever failed to enforce.
“Need to use the bathroom,” she mumbled, setting her food and wine aside and pushing to her feet. Hurrying back into the house, she headed straight for Silver’s bathroom, locking the door behind her as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
Holden
Watching Jacob hurry off toward the bathroom, his face as red as a fire engine, Holden grinned. One or both of his women had obviously sent him something to put that expression on his face, and from talks he’d had with Cordelia he knew Jacob wouldn’t be allowed to do a damn thing about it.
Poor kid. Lucky kid.
“Lucky bastard,” Ice mumbled, echoing Holden’s own thoughts as he leaned back against the couch with a grin. “Wonder what they sent him.”
“Nope.” Beckett shook his head. “Not going there. Not fantasizing about Jacob getting naughty selfies. He’s basically our little brother and it’s weird.”
“I’m not fantasizing, I’m just curious. You saw the look on his face just now. No way that was just some sexy selfies.”
Holden’s own phone buzzed in his pocket, distracting him from the friendly argument happening around him. Wondering if maybe his own babygirl had joined in the naughty selfie trend, he pulled his phone free.
It was Frankie, but she wasn’t texting, she was calling. Worry pricked at the back of his mind as he rose from the couch and headed for the relative privacy of the kitchen to answer her call.
“Frankie? What’s wrong, baby?”
“Daddy.” Her voice was strained, as if she was holding back tears, and every nerve on his body went on alert.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Talk to me, baby.”
“No, I’m not hurt. I’m okay.” The quiet sniffle that punctuated her words did nothing to lend any credence to that statement. “I’m just… I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t mean to. It’s just, I’ve been so stressed about the wedding and I didn’t wanna look bloated in all the photos and I’m sorry, Daddy, I know it was wrong, please don’t hate me.”
It took a moment for her words to fully register. And when they did, it was like a physical punch to the gut. “Francesca.” Though it killed him, he put a bit of steel into his voice. Experience had taught him that in moments like this she needed his authority, his dominance.
She needed her Daddy.
“I need you to breathe for me. Deep inhale.” He paused, waiting for the sound of her dragging in air. “Good girl. Hold that breath for me, baby. One, two, three, four. Now breathe out slowly. One, two, three, four.”
It took three more sets before she let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m better now. Sorry.”
“No apologies needed. That’s what Daddies are for. But I do need you to tell me what’s going on. Have you been skipping meals?”
“Yes.” Her voice was small, barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Fuck. How had he missed this, again?
He’d gotten complacent, that’s how. For months she’d been doing great, going to all her therapy appointments, their joint appointments, her monthly check-ins with her physician.
Everything had been going so well, in fact, that he’d let himself get distracted with Harlan Redding’s trial and the wedding and the holidays.
“How many drinks have you had tonight, Francesca?”
“Um. I’m on my third glass of wine.”
“And have you had anything to eat?”
“A-A mini quiche.”
“All right. Here’s what you’re going to do. You are going to make yourself a plate of food. You are going to send me a picture of your plate before you’ve eaten and after you’ve eaten. And no more wine for you. Water only, for the rest of the night.”
“Yes, Daddy. Lottie already made me a plate.”
He could kiss Lottie at moments like this. “Good girl. I’ll be there in a few hours to pick you up and then we can talk more about this at home.”
“Are you mad?”
It was a fair question, and he gave himself a moment to sit with it, to consider his own feelings.
And realized what he was, more than anything, was humbled that she felt safe enough with him to come to him the way she had, before she’d gotten herself backed into a corner like before.
“No, baby. I’m not mad. But we are going to be having a long conversation about this.”
“Yes, Daddy. Um, I should probably go before the others start to worry about me.”
“Don’t forget to send me those pictures, and I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
Ending the call, he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. It was tempting to make his excuses and leave early to pick her up, but it was the night before her best friend’s wedding and he didn’t want to ruin that for her.
He was still standing there, trying to decide on the best course of action when his phone buzzed again.
Looking down, he smiled at the picture of a very full plate of food.
If she ate half of it, he’d be happy. He typed out a “Good girl” text and sent it off, then headed back to the living room.
And spent the rest of the evening trying not to worry.