Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Brody inched away. “I don’t think we need to discuss anything.”
“Oh, don’t we?”
“Nope.”
“I disagree,” the Fox countered.
Her head swiveled back and forth between them. What was going on? What was the Fox talking about?
“What is it?” she asked.
The Fox stood and deposited her on an armchair. Then he gently cupped her chin, tilting her face back so he could kiss her nose.
She went warm with happiness.
“Brody broke one of his rules,” the Fox told her.
“He did? You’re not going to get rid of him are you, Daddy?” she asked worriedly. “He won’t do it again!”
Both of them gaped down at her. And she just realized she was being ridiculous.
“I . . . I . . .”
The Fox leaned down until he was eye-level with her. “Listen to me closely. I would never, for any reason, get rid of either of you. I am in this forever. There is no breaking up or divorce or changing your mind.”
She waited for a sense of panic. As that wasn’t normal. But it didn’t come. Because she never wanted to be separated from the two of them.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Doesn’t matter how many rules you break. You might not be that happy because you won’t be sitting comfortably, but if you break a rule, you’re punished then we move on. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
She’d always tried to be a good girl, to do what her grandparents wanted in the hopes that they’d finally love her. That she might earn their respect and care.
She’d done the same thing with Brad. Tried to be perfect so he’d love her.
“I’ve always tried to be a good girl because I was worried that my grandparents might decide to get rid of me. I overheard my grandfather say that once to my grandmother. That if I was too much trouble, they would put me in foster care.”
“Oh, Tutu,” Brody said with sympathy. “That’s a horrible thing for a child to hear.”
“I always tried to do what they wanted. And I did the same with Brad too.” She swallowed heavily.
Both men came and crouched in front of her, each taking a hand gently. “You know that’s not the way things work with us, right?” Brody said. “You don’t have to always try to be perfect. We’re not perfect.”
“Speak for yourself,” the Fox said haughtily.
She and Brody shared a grin.
“But I don’t expect either of you to be perfect. It’s hard work being perfect. You just need to be you.” The Fox leaned in and kissed her lightly.
Hard to be perfect, huh?
“Also, your grandparents were awful people and if they were still alive I’d make their lives an utter misery.”
“You can’t go around getting revenge on anyone who has hurt me,” she told him.
“That is basically my entire purpose for living. To make sure those who harm either of you suffer. And to eat pie. I do love pie. Especially cherry pie.” He winked at her and she flushed.
“Why does that sound dirty?” Brody asked. Standing, he stared down at his erect cock in disbelief. “And why does he not listen to me anymore? Seriously.”
She had to giggle, he sounded so put out.
“I didn’t consider that I’d have to give you a sex education talk,” the Fox said. “America’s education system is really failing if you don’t know why your cock gets hard around us.”
Okay, was he being serious or joking? It was so difficult to tell sometimes.
“I know why it’s hard,” Brody said with a huff. “Because our girl is gorgeous and sweet. And you’re commanding and hot. I just wish it listened to me when I told it to behave. Because this isn’t exactly the right time to be playing up.”
She wasn’t sure there was ever a wrong time. Maybe at a funeral.
“Yeah, getting turned on at a funeral would be bad,” she said.
Both men stared at her.
“Um, well, I . . .”
“That’s quite true. That would be a social etiquette issue,” the Fox agreed. He turned to Brody. “Do not get hard at a funeral.”
“I wasn’t going to!” Brody said. He groaned. “Why did this conversation turn to my erection?”
“Because you said you couldn’t control it,” she told him helpfully. “I could help you with that.”
“That’s very helpful of you, Bunny,” the Fox said approvingly.
“Thank you. I try.”
“Such a good girl.”
Brody groaned. “Are you seriously praising her for offering to help me, uh . . .”
“Cook the cucumber? Take the self-guided tour? Make waffles?”
“Cook the cucumber?” Autumn repeated with a giggle.
“I don’t get the making waffles one,” Brody said.
The Fox just shook his head. “Maybe because you’re not doing it properly.”
“I do it properly!” Brody said.
“And often?” the Fox asked, turning to him.
She watched them, wishing she had popcorn. And maybe some painkillers. Because her head was killing her. Stupid panic attack.
At least they seemed not to have noticed her anxiety-driven cleaning fiasco. Or at least, Brody had, but he wasn’t saying anything.