Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
I t had been two deliriously wonderful days since Nuala agreed to be his Little girl, and he’d seriously considered canceling the recording session he’d had today, because he didn’t want to leave her. Not for a second, never mind a whole day.
After she’d talked to Anthony the other night and he’d cleaned up the broken glass and fastened a board from his woodpile over the window he’d busted, she’d allowed him to give her a bath and rub some cream into her bottom, which was red from the paddling Anthony had given her. He couldn’t wait to have his palm tingly and hot from spanking Nuala himself, but that would come soon enough. Nuala had even acquiesced to him staying overnight with her—in her bed, no less—and it had been a dream come true to wake up with her cuddled against him, her plump bottom nestled against his morning wood. It had been a miracle that he’d kept himself from ravishing her as soon as he woke.
Instead, he’d made her breakfast and they’d talked about what they wanted out of this relationship, limits, and even ventured into some fantasies. She was damn near perfect, and honestly the places where they didn’t totally mesh only served to convince him that this was real and not a dream. He’d maybe pinched himself a couple times just in case.
Now he was throwing his jeep into park in Nuala’s driveway and jogging up the steps to where the window on her door had been repaired. She must’ve taken care of that, and he felt a twinge of guilt for not having gotten to it first. Mostly, though, he was excited to see her.
He’d checked on her a few times throughout the day by text, but there wasn’t anything like seeing her in person, being able to take her in his arms.
The door was open, and he dropped his pack just on the other side of the threshold before collapsing on the couch. A split-second later, Nuala walked out of the kitchen looking like a treat. Jeans cuffed above her ankles, bare feet, a pink button-down shirt with the tails tied at her waist, and a headband with a bow holding back her dark hair.
“Come here, Nono,” he said, patting his lap. “I want to give my Little girl some huggles and hear about your day.”
The way her face lit up made his heart sing. It had been a long and tiring day, what with driving back and forth to Clover City and being in an unfamiliar recording studio and working with new people and having the pressure of knowing this could be a big, ongoing project if they liked him enough.
Having Nuala climb onto his lap and wrap her arms around his neck was better than any cocktail, and he couldn’t help but hug her tightly and breathe in her scent. He hoped he could be a port in the storm for her, but she was a buoy for him too. Finally, he could bear to loosen his grip, which wasn’t so bad, because then he could kiss her. And kiss her. Had to tear himself away from their lip lock actually, otherwise he’d throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs and not do any of the things he’d planned to.
“So, what did you get up to?”
“Mostly reading, but also putting some stuff away. And I got the door fixed.”
“I wish you would’ve let me take care of that, hummingbird. I’m the one who broke it. Besides, that’s the kind of thing I want to take care of for you. Next time something’s busted, can I deal with it please?”
“Um, okay. If you really want to. But I had the time today. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I do really want to,” he told her. “But I’m proud of you for taking care of it. Now I won’t worry so much about you being home alone.”
She smiled at him in that pink-cheeked flustered way she had. “You worry about me?”
“All the time.”
“Oh. I don’t want you to be worried, but…”
“But it’s nice to have someone who cares enough to worry about you?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Remy slid a hand over her jaw and cupped her cheek. “Well, I care about you that much. And I think about you all the time.”
I love you , he wanted to tell her, but he’d hold off. He’d come on strong enough already and he didn’t want his skittish little hummingbird to flit away.
After telling her about the recording job he’d done that day and kissing her more—goodness, she loved his kisses—Daddy bounced her on his knee. “I’m going to make dinner now. I thought some spaghetti and meatballs for my pasta princess.”
“I can do that. You’ve been working all day, and I’ve been…not.”
The truth was, Nuala didn’t quite know what to do with herself now. Cabot’s career had taken over her life so thoroughly, she hardly knew who she was anymore—aside from Remy’s Little girl which, while wonderful, wasn’t a full-time occupation. And it had only been a couple of days. While she couldn’t help but dream about forever because it was making her so happy, she definitely couldn’t count on it. That would be the epitome of foolishness. She was a lot of things, but foolish was nowhere on the list.
“Nono,” her Daddy said with that warning tone that did funny things to her tummy.
“Yes yes?” she asked sweetly, and he laughed.
“Cooking isn’t my job, and I like cooking for you. It makes me feel good to provide you with nourishment, to care for you that way. And I love to feed you.”
Well, that she knew, after he’d fed her dinner last night, and she loved that too.
“Plus, I have something I want you to do for me while I make dinner.”
“What, Daddy?”
“Come on and I’ll show you.”
Remy took her hand and towed her over to where he’d dropped his bag by the door. From inside it, he pulled a paper bag from a stationery store, and from that, he took out a pretty pink notebook with a red puffy glitter heart on it, and a pen that had a puff of pink feathers on the top.
“Those are for me?”
“Yes, Little girl,” he told her and handed them to her. “And they’re going to help you do your job.”
“What’s my job?”
She was good at a lot of things, and suspected she could be good at a lot of others, given the chance. Maybe Remy needed help running his business, or maybe he wanted her to make lists. Or maybe they were going to talk more about their dynamic and she was going to write everything down. That would be fun. Or maybe he wanted her to write lines? That seemed like a punishment though and she didn’t think she’d done anything bad.
“You, my hummingbird, are going to write a story.”
“What kind of story?” she asked, even though she was fairly certain she knew.
“I want you to write me a story about a Daddy and his Little girl. Just like you wanted to.”
“Why?”
He took her face in his hands and stroked his thumbs across her cheeks. “Because I want to encourage you to do anything and everything you’ve ever wanted to do. This doesn’t have to be a career or even a job if you don’t want it to be. It can just be for funsies. Or maybe because you like to turn your Daddy on. But who knows? Maybe you’ll like it and want to be an author. Or maybe you won’t, and then you’ll have a pretty notebook for whatever you want to put in it. All I’m asking is that you give it a go while I get us some food, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she agreed, and felt like she had a sparkly red heart in her chest to match the one on her notebook when he leaned forward to kiss first her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips.
“Good girl,” he told her with a big smile that made her red sparkly heart so full she felt like it might burst.
Then he steered her over to the kitchen counter where she’d be able to see him while he made dinner and pulled out a stool from under the marble. He patted the seat before patting her bottom. “Up you go, Little girl. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”