Page 145 of Her Daddies' Everything

“Then why didn’t you call for me?” he asked, walking over and taking the soda out of her hand.

He put it back into the fridge and instead, drew out a carton of orange juice.

Nooo.

She didn’t want orange juice. She wanted soda.

“I didn’t think you were here. Aren’t you supposed to be at the studio?”

“I postponed that until tomorrow.”

“You did? Was that okay with everyone else?” she asked.

He just shrugged as he put the orange juice on the island. Then he picked her up by the hips and placed her on the counter. “Looking after you comes first.”

She sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does,” he said firmly. He half-filled her glass with juice and then held it up to her lips. “Open.”

“I wanted soda.”

“Soda isn’t good for you. Juice is. Open.”

“You say that to me a lot.”

“I say what a lot?” he asked.

“Open,” she said in a deep voice.

“Is that supposed to sound like me?” he asked, his lips twitching.

“It sounds exactly like you!”

“Not even close. You sound like a constipated chipmunk.”

She gasped. Loudly. “Well, maybe that’s what you sound like.”

It wasn’t. He sounded like caramel apples. Sweet on the outside and a bit tart and sharp underneath. Complex and delicious.

And now she wanted a caramel apple.

Instead, she took the glass from him and sipped on orange juice that she didn’t even like.

“I don’t like orange juice.”

“I know,” he said. “But you need the vitamin C so keep drinking. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He shot her a look. “You’ve barely eaten the last few days. You look like you’re feeling better so you’re going to eat. Or I’ll call Eric.”

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“I bet he knows a way to get some food into you. I think they can put stuff through a tube into your stomach. They probably go through the butt.”

“They do not!”

Well, she didn’t think they did.

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