“What’s that on mine?”
My eyes widen once I spot the small brown pellets dotted all across the floor.
“Please tell me those are raisins.”
“Um, they’re totally raisins.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Folding his arms over his muscular chest, Evan hitches his brows up. “Eat one.”
My gaze bounces between him and the obvious rabbit poop, and I grumble, “I’ll get the dustpan and brush,” before flashing him a coy smile, rushing in the direction of the kitchen.
12: Evan
Waking up to being mooned by a rabbit in my own bed wasn’t on the bingo cards for this year, but here we are. I’m face-to-cheek with rabbit butt.
Cheese spins on my chest, facing me and pressing her wet nose to my cheek, which makes me huff and shuffle up against my headboard until I’m sitting.
“How did you get in here?" I pull the covers back and slip out of the bed, right when she decides to christen it with yet another few brown pellets, which she smushes into the sheets using her tiny feet. Scraping my hand down my face, I murmur, “You have got to be kidding me.”
My son is quick to respond to me calling his name, and rushes into my bedroom with blazing cheeks and wide eyes. I know that face. It’s the face of a kid who’s just been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
“Leo,” I say in warning, and he immediately scoops Cheese up and places her on the ground. Peeking out my window, I can see movement inside the cabin. Frantic movement. Which means Flo has only just woken up, andprobably realised Cheese isn’t where she was when she went to bed.
“She didn’t mean to.”
“I’m not mad about the poop, kid. I’m mad about why Cheese is in the house and Flo isn’t. How did she get in here?”
That’s when Flo shoves the cabin door open with her hip and pads in the direction of the main house barefoot, still dressed in her silky pyjamas that leave little to the imagination.
The slinky cropped top holds her tits up perfectly, and the frilly shorts are low enough to show off her pierced navel, the delicate emerald bouncing off her tanned skin as she walks.
“Where’s the rabbit?!” comes her concerned voice once she’s inside the house, and I take one look at Leo, using my best stern daddy look to tell him that I know what he did.
“Sneaking into the cabin before anyone is up isn’t okay, Leo.” I crouch down to his level just as Flo appears in the doorway of my bedroom, her body relaxing once her eyes land on the fluffy snowball rolling around on my floor. “I know you were excited and wanted to play with her, but you can’t leave the house without me knowing about it. What if something happened to you?”
Leo’s head drops, and he mumbles, “Yes, Daddy.”
“You scared me half to death, Leo,” Flo chimes in, voice completely serious, something I’ve never heard her use. “Please don’t do that again. If you want to come and seeCheese when she’s in the cabin, you need to make sure you ask your dad first, okay? I thought we’d lost her to a coyote or something. Adults need to know where you are at all times, okay?”
“Sorry,” Leo mutters, walking into my open arms and resting his head on my shoulder, which I kiss.
“You’re all good, my little lion. We just want to keep you safe,” I tell him, squeezing him tightly. God, if something were to happen to him..
“You must secretly be a ninja, though, because I was sound asleep. Didn’t hear you at all.”
That makes Leo giggle into the crook of my neck, and I’m glad Flo’s lightening the mood after telling Leo what he needed to hear, because my mind was taking a depressing detour.
“But next time, let’s test your ninja skills out when Daddy knows about it?”
“Okay.”
My nanny smiles at me, silently checking that her adding to the discipline was okay, and I give her a grateful nod to let her know I appreciate it, but then my eyes travel without my permission. Starting at her painted toes, up her legs, to her waist, breasts, and then…
“Flo… what happened to your hair?”
Her eyes immediately blow out. “What do you mean?” She rushes past us to peek at herself in my full-length mirror at the bottom of my bed, and her jaw slacks. A storm of emotions sweeps across her face. Shock. Dislike. And thensharp, comical anger as her eyes land on Cheese, who’s now sitting on the foot of my bed, munching on my knitted throw.
“You,” she mumbles huskily, waggling a finger while a hint of a smile curls her lips. “Hair is not food.”
