I nod, and then I’m in his arms, being cradled against his chest as he gently rocks me. “Daddy issoproud of you, baby.”
Shocked, I lift my head to stare at him through blurry eyes. “Y-you are?”
“Of course, my sweet little bug. You used your diaper without Daddy having to force you. My good little baby.”
“But it was anaccident.”
“That’s okay. That just means you trust Daddy to take care of you, always.”
Sniffling, I bury my face in his neck as he rises from the bed to carry me into the nursery. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
“That’s what Daddy is for. To remind you that you being my baby is agoodthing and you never have to be embarrassed. Okay?”
“O-okay, Daddy.”
He continues to praise me, telling me what a good baby I am and how proud he is while he changes my diaper and dresses me in a yellow tutu and a cute white shirt with a ducky on the front that saysRelease the Quackin.The shirt makes me giggle, and I’m still laughing when he carries me downstairs to the dining room.
But my laughter dies on my lips when I realize the whole family is waiting for us. Daddy brought me dinner up to our room the night before, so I haven’t seen any of them since my spanking. For a long, impossibly tense moment, I stare at thepeople I betrayed and they stare back, all of us waiting for someone to saysomething.
“Josie!” Lanie’s delighted squeal cuts through the silence like a knife. “You’re awake! I didn’t think I’deverget to see you again.”
“I think you’re being a smidge dramatic there, little runaway,” Uncle Axel says with a laugh as he reaches over to wipe maple syrup from his babygirl’s chin.
And just like that, everyone goes back to normal, talking and laughing and passing food around the table as if nothing ever happened. Daddy buckles me into my highchair and Uncle Colt piles a plate high with pancakes in front of me while Uncle Eli shoves a platter of sausage my way, muttering something about Little girls needing plenty of protein for all the mischief they make. Daddy feeds me, all while my uncles joke and tease each other, as well as me and Lanie, and with every passing second I can feel the tension draining from my body.
When I’ve finally cleared my plate, Daddy wipes my face and unbuckles me from the chair. “Do you want a bottle of milk before you go play, little bug?”
Excitement blooms in my chest. “Island milk?”
Chuckling, Daddy carries me to the end of the table, where he places me in Auntie Gray’s waiting arms. “Yes, baby, island milk.”
Auntie Gray grins down at me as she lifts a bottle to my lips and I suck greedily at the rubber nipple. “Have you told her about the special cows on the island yet?”
“No. I was waiting for things to… settle down a bit.”
What? Why would he need things to settle down to talk to me about cows? Is it just because he knows I don’t really like cows?
Humming softly, Auntie Gray bounces me in her arms as I drink. “Someday soon, we’ll take you and Lanie to the island soyou can meet the very special cows that make your milk. Would you like that, Josie?”
I nod, but even as I do, I realize it doesn’t matter. They can take me anywhere they want, as long as I’m with them.
As long as I’m with my family.
EPILOGUE
COLT
Las Vegas
Seated at a bar, the lights of the casino flashing around me, used to be my happy place. I love watching all the people as they come and go, making my own personal bets about how much money they’ll win or lose as the night goes on.
I’m usually right.
Reading people is part of what I do for a living. How I make the deals that built my family’s fledgling lumber business into an empire in less than twenty years.
And I’m very good at what I do.
Tonight, however, the clanging machines and cheering people hold little appeal. For the first time, I find myself wishing I was home with my siblings and my adorable nieces, watching to see what kind of trouble they’re going to get themselves into. Lanie and Josie keep us all on our toes, and not a single one of us would have it any other way, no matter how much grumblingElias does when they get into the snacks he has “hidden” all over the kitchen.
