Page 44 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy
“No idea,” Richard replied. “Maybe too many parts and too many rules to remember. I think I’m gamed out. Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure,” I said. “But how? I still don’t even have much cell reception, so I know we can’t stream anything.”
He grinned. “Look in the top shelf of the closet.”
I had to drag a kitchen chair over to look in the top shelf. One side of it was stacked full of paper backs, the other side had DVDs and VHS tapes.
“Now,” he added, “Press that switch.”
I did. A wall panel to the right of the wood stove, where it would be perfect for viewing from the Murphy bed, slid aside revealing a large screen TV and just about every possible type of player.
“Oh, wow!” I exclaimed. “What should I get down?”
“Any DVD or VHS you like,” he said. “I went through them a year or two ago and only kept my favorites.”
These were his favorites? The big football hero was a closet romantic? I settled on Goonies, Princess Bride, and It’s a Wonderful Life. Maybe I should get snowed in with a football hunk more often.
Chapter eighteen
Richie
I watched Kandis as she stood on the chair tiptoe to search the shelf. The jeans she was wearing were too bulky to show off her trim figure, but I could imagine it. The pain pills had kicked in, and I was feeling better now. Our romp in the snow had cost me, but I wouldn’t have given it up.
She had a childlike delight in making snowballs, creating the snowman, and even in sampling the gooey maple syrup treats.
“Why don’t we get into something more comfortable?” I asked. “I’ll make us some treats.”
She had just stepped down off the chair, and now turned toward me with a kind of deer in the headlights look to her face. “Go on,” I said. “I picked out some pretty things for you. I’d like to see you in them before we have to head back to civilization.”
Kandis made a face at me, seemed to think for a minute, then tucked the DVD boxes under her arm, positioned her hands in a prayerful pose in front of her, and bobbed herhead as if she were Barbara Eden in “I Dream of Jeannie.” “I hear and obey, Master,” she quipped.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s not that bad. I got some warm choices for you, not just skimpy ones. Then I added, “You could model all of them for me.”
I sorted through the clothing we had purchased and handed the packages to her. She took them and disappeared into the tiny bathroom.
While she was gone, I changed into a pair of silky lounging pajamas. After all, it wasn’t fair to ask of her something I wasn’t willing to do myself. After I was in them, I was glad I had gotten warm, fluffy robes for both of us. Even with the furnace and the stove going, the air in the cabin was cooler than most lowland houses.
I made popcorn using the handheld popper that hung beside the stove. I then stepped out with an ice bucket and got a scoop of snow in it.
Brrrr! It would have been smart if I’d done that before I changed into pajamas and slippers! When I stepped back in, she had emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in her fluffy robe.
She grinned at me, guessing that I’d gotten my priorities mixed up. “Good thing those slippers are sturdy,” she said. “Miserable weather for a pair of scuffs.”
“Mmm, but look what a package I behold as I come back in,” I said, advancing on her with the ice bucket in hand.
She backed up a step. “Whoa, up there, big boy. I’m not sure what you have in mind . . .”
I realized then that she must have thought I was about to revert to our former childish pranks, such as putting snow down her collar. While that might have been fun when we were out romping in the white stuff, junior high antics were not going to get me where I wanted to go.
I obediently backed up, then reached over and picked thebottle of wine off the counter and tucked it into the ice bucket. “I thought about mulling it,” I said, “But it is just too much work. Besides, we can stick some cans of soda in here, too.”
“Oh,” she said, relaxing a little. “Do I smell popcorn?”
“You do,” I said. “Can I get a sneak preview of what you are wearing?”
She blushed, but obediently undid the belt of her robe, and held it wide so I could see. She had chosen the satin lounging pajamas. I could tell from the panty lines that she had on a pair of the fancy, mostly not-there underwear beneath them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The baby dolls really are cute, but it is just too cold for shorts.”
