Page 228 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Has she been let down before?” I ask.
Cappa nods, before glancing at Logan guiltily. “Sorry, Master Logan.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be honest with Master Mac. If the Blunts Doms have disappointed DirtyGurl, or you, you can tell us.”
Theor yousounds pointed, and I wonder what’s brought Cappa here to Logan’s house, where all things wounded seem to congregate.
“I’m not being critical, sir,” Cappa says. “I just think some of the members aren’t as clear as they could be about not getting involved with house submissives outside the club.”
Is that how the Blunts Doms have treated Brenna? And this fragile man-boy? Bastards. No wonder she was so surprised I took her to lunch before our scene. If she’ll let me back in, I foresee a lot of dates in Brenna’s future.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell Cappa, around bites of savory Hunter’s Chicken and cous-cous. “I’d very much like to date Brenna as well as have her as my submissive. What do you think her perfect date would be?”
Cappa grins, then touches his fingers to his split lip. “Take her to a video arcade. She’s a shark on those old eighties’ games.She didn’t—” He breaks off with a glance at Logan, sighs, and continues, “She didn’t grow up with Xbox or PlayStation. She’ll tell you she wants to go to dinner or a concert or whatever you’re into, but if you really want to see her happy, take her to an old arcade.”
I salute him with my beer. “I play a pretty mean game of Frogger myself, so that sounds like a great date to me. Much better than dinner and a movie.”
“She likes movies, too. Chick flicks and anything with Channing Tatum in it. She’ll tell you those movies are sappy and stupid, but take a box of Kleenex, sir, because she’ll be crying at the first kiss.”
I chuckle. That sounds like my salty-sweet sammie. “What’s her favorite movie?”
“Dirty Dancing.Don’ttell her I told you. She’ll kill me. And she’ll deny it to her last breath. But she loves it.”
“Really?” That does surprise me. “Can she dance? I know she has an old hip injury.”
Logan and Cappa trade chuckles.
“Wait until you see her dance, sir.”
“That’s what she does at Blunts,” Logan tells me. “The house submissives work various jobs at the club. Brenna’s job is dancing in the nightclub. She puts on a hell of a show.”
How have I missed my dirty girl dancing? Doesn’t matter, this is my opportunity. “Lo, could I persuade you to take me to your club tonight? Seeing Brenna dance is about the only thing that could make this day better.”
Logan rubs his hand over his mouth. “Cappa, you’re grounded, so don’t even think about it. Emmy, you’re on babysitting duty. You’re allowed to give Cappa a sponge bath. Cappa, you’re in our bed tonight. Emmy, mind your bedtime. If we’re not back by then, I want a picture of you in bed at ten of twelve. Cappa can read you one bedtime story. One, not three,so don’t you try to wheedle more out of him the way you do with Niall and Max, little girl.”
The top of Emily’s head is visible over the edge of the table and she bows it. “Yes, Daddy. But it was only two, not three.”
Logan strokes her head. “You are such a mischief. Do not be tempted to bend my rules while I’m out with Master Mac. You will not like the results.”
Emily tips her head back and peers up at Logan. “Owie paddle results?”
“I’m thinking more owie clothespin results. I’m feeling very fond of clothespins at the moment, after sticking them on Cappa’s tongue. I don’t think you want to know where I’d put them on you if you’re a disobedient girl.”
Emily shivers and bows her head again. “Super good girl, me.”
“Mmm. For the sake of your sensitive bits, you’d better be. Club closes at two, so Mac and I won’t be any later than that. You will not wait up under any circumstances, little girl. Am I absolutely clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He leans over and kisses the top of her head. Then he shoots a grin at me. “Boys’ night out it is, then.”
I do the dishes while Logan takes Emily upstairs and gives her what I gather is a pre-emptive paddling. When he returns, he’s in a gray, three-piece suit and brings me a dry-cleaning bag with a navy-blue suit inside, plus a white dress shirt and a checked tie.
“Unofficial dress code,” he explains. “You’ll see everything from full frontal to dungeon leathers at the club tonight, but most of the management committee wears suits in the evening and so do our guests.”
“Thank you.” It’s not a perfect fit since Logan’s a little taller and broader than I am, but it doesn’t hang off me, either. “Canyou talk about the inner workings of the club with me or is that off-limits?”
He meets my eyes squarely. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Ever.”
