Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Yikes.
“Ooh, I got another package today,” Jack said.
She eyed him nervously. Jack enjoyed shopping for her a lot. He disappeared into the storage room as Jameson sat her on a stool.
Ian placed an apron over her, then quickly put her hair back into a braid. He was getting really good at doing her hair.
Then Jack carried out a . . . a . . .
“Is that a highchair?” She studied the wooden chair. It had a black padded seat and black straps attached to it.
“Yep and it’s got a removable tray.” Jack set it up at the island and then picked her up, putting her in it. “Now, to put the straps on. Safety first!”
“Really, Daddy?” she said dryly.
“Really.” He strapped her in. “And now you can’t move. So Daddy Grumps doesn’t have to worry about you touching the stove. Or anything else in the kitchen that you shouldn’t be.”
“My name is not Daddy Grumps,” Ian grumbled.
Jack winked at her. “It so is.”
She giggled as Ian sighed. Jameson looked a bit lost as Ian and Jack started pulling out ingredients.
“Papa, you want to help me?” she asked.
“I think I’ll just watch you all,” Jameson said.
“Nuh-uh, Papa. We all have to help or we can’t eat the cake. Unless you want to wash up?”
“I’ll help you, Shortcake.”
Ian handed them ingredients he measured out first and she poured them into a bowl. Ian was whisking up the butter and sugar while Jack . . . well, she wasn’t sure what Jack was doing. But things flying everywhere.
Ian frowned at him. “You’re making a mess.”
“Oh, am I?” Jack put a dob of something on Ian’s nose.
Another giggle escaped her. Jack smacked a kiss on her cheek as he went past. An idea occurred to her. She placed a finger in the batter and held it up, aiming for Jameson’s face.
He dodged and she missed. Then he gave her a stern look.
Uh-oh. Her butt couldn’t take any more punishment.
“Papa, no! Mercy!”
But to her shock, instead of pulling her off the chair to spank her, he reached into the bowl and smudged some batter onto her nose.
She let out a squeal, smiling widely.
“Oh, now it’s on!” Jack cried, reaching for the flour.
“Jack, no!” Ian grabbed for the flour, but instead it somehow ended up all over him.
He was a flour ghost.
She started giggling, Jameson joining in. She laughed so hard that she nearly peed herself. This was exactly what she’d needed.
And she knew Jack had realized that. Which is why he’d risked Ian’s wrath—to make her laugh.
Two hours later, the kitchen was clean and so was Ian. And they were all sitting snuggled on the couch eating cake and watching a comedy on TV.
She leaned into Jack, then looked over at Jameson and Ian.
“I love you guys. So much.”
“Love you too, baby.” Jack kissed her head.
“Always.” Ian reached over to kiss her lightly on the lips.
“Forever.” Jameson blew her a kiss from the other end of the couch.
Perfect.
67
Maggie woke up from her nap, looking around.
The first thing she spotted were wooden slats. The next was a jungle-themed mobile above her head.
And the third thing was Ian staring down at her in concern. She tried to smile up at him until she realized she had a dummy in her mouth. She reached up to remove it. Huh, her hands were in mittens.
“Hello there, my Little one,” he crooned.
And to think she’d nicknamed him Mr. Grumpy Knickers. Okay, there were times when he could still be a grumpybum and his sweetness factor would get below thirty. When he was being all overprotective and bossy.
He had a real thing about her health and safety. She wasn’t allowed to push herself too much or skip meals, and Lord forbid she didn’t drink enough in one day.
But then he would put her down for a nap, hug her tight, and stay with her until she fell asleep. And he was always right there when she woke up.
“Daddy,” she said, holding up her arms. “Up.”
He lifted her up against his chest, grabbing Ziggy for her as well. She loved feeling secure and small against him. He carried her over to the rocking chair and sat with her on his lap, rocking back and forth.
She sighed, feeling comforted.
She knew why he’d looked so concerned when she woke up. It had been a rough morning. Today, she’d decided to go back into the desert.
She hadn’t tried since that first disastrous attempt. It had taken a lot of negotiating to get her men to agree that she could go. She’d even had to bring in her therapist, who said she thought Maggie was ready to give it a try.
She’d been seeing her therapist twice a week for the last six weeks and it was really helping her process everything that had happened. And not just with the kidnapping. With her parents. With Indie.