Hmm. He sounded reasonable and calm, but she wasn’t fooled.
“I told you, Papa. I was doing secret stuff.”
“And I told you that you aren’t allowed to keep secrets from me.”
She sighed with a frown. “Fine! I was packing all the gifts.”
“All the gifts?” he repeated.
“For Christmas! I was packing all the presents.”
“Why haven’t you packed them already?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone trying to sneak peeks at their presents. And I also didn’t finish wrapping the last one until just now.”
Thank goodness she’d finished before he discovered that she was awake.
Tobias watched her with a knowing look. “When did you wrap the other gifts?”
“Huh?” she said with mock-innocence.
“I said, when did you wrap the other gifts? I’m with you most of the time and I didn’t see you wrapping any gifts.”
Uh-oh.
She was busted.
She hummed, trying to think of an excuse. There was no way he knew, right?
Immy glanced around the room and looked at the elf who was hanging from the ceiling by a small rope. Then to Miss Pippa Porker.
“Who tattled?” she demanded as she smacked her fist into the palm of her hand. “You know what happens to tattletales!”
“Immy,” Tobias warned.
Cupcakes.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ve been wrapping them during nap times. But not the whole nap time. I usually spend ten minutes wrapping, then the rest of the time napping.”
“Immy,” he said again.
Urgh! How did he always know when she was exaggerating the truth? It was so annoying!
“Fine, maybe twenty minutes wrapping. But I like to get the gifts just right.”
She didn’t have a nap every day, just when she was extra tired. Or she was going to be staying up late. Immy tended to get sick a lot, especially if she wasn’t taking care of herself.
But Tobias had taken charge of looking after her and ensuring her health. It was infuriating sometimes.
“Damn it, Immy,” he grumbled.
“Hey! You’re gonna have to put money in the swear jar.”
Tobias shot her a stern look. “You might want to worry less about the swear jar and more about your butt.”
Immy slid her hands behind her to cover her bottom. “Hey! That’s just rude. What’s wrong with my butt?”
“You know damn well there’s nothing wrong with it. But it’s about to be red and sore.”
