Emily breaks out of the circle of littles to hug her daddy. “Not everything has to be a competition, Daddy.”
“Yeah, tell these bastards that,” Logan grumbles.
He loses, but he’s a good sport about it and takes the ribbing we give him well.
While the competition may dismay Logan, it delights the littles. Cynnie’s happier than I’ve seen her all day, cheering me on, clapping wildly when we win a lap. She never stops smiling, even when Sammi drenches her, splashing her from his boat in an attempt to distract us during the third lap. She’s left off her horrible, black cover-up since she’s with me, and the way her floral, summer dress sticks to her sweet curves is more distracting than anything Sammi could do.
I strip off my shirt so she can cover up, which generates cheers and jeers from the surrounding boats. Cynnie’s adorably pink as she shrugs it on and even after her dress has surely dried, she keeps my shirt on, occasionally sniffing the collar, which makes her even pinker.
As we return the boats, Jack drags Sammi off to the men’s room. Cynnie watches them go with unmistakable yearning in her eyes. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close so I can whisper to her.
“I’m not so new to this that I don’t know Sammi’s about to be punished for splashing you. Is that what you want?”
Her small hands stroke my bare back. “Yes.”
“Tell me why?”
“Because I’ve been mean and I feel bad about it and being punished wipes the slate clean,” she whispers.
“That’s all you had to say, baby,” I tell her. “I’ll punish you tomorrow morning. I want you to think about it tonight, even while we’re having fun. I’m not going to tell you what the punishment is, but I will listen to you and if there’s anything that would frighten your little, you can tell me, and I’ll take it into consideration.”
Her eyes are black holes of need and trepidation. I kiss her forehead and give her a cuddle. I want her to anticipate her punishment, but not be terrified of me.
Warrin taps the arm I’ve wrapped around Cynnie’s shoulders. “You two up for a picnic? I can get my firm’s caterer to deliver to the Seventy-second Street entrance and we could eat at Bow Bridge.”
Cynnie nods eagerly.
“Sounds good, man. Let me know how much I owe you.”
Warrin waves a hand at me and gets busy on his phone.
When Jack and Sammi return, Sammi’s red-eyed, but barely less exuberant than when they left. He apologizes to Cynnie for splashing her and she hugs him. As soon as she releases him, Jack tucks his boy back under his arm. Sammi jabbers at his daddy, clearly not holding a grudge for whatever punishment he just endured.
We make our way around the Lake and across Strawberry Fields, stopping at the Lennon Memorial to listen to a busker’s impressive rendition of “And I Love Her.” He does well off our group, with each of the littles going back to drop dollar bills in his guitar case several times.
Warrin’s phone pings to let him know the caterer’s arrived. Since the littles are still enthralled by the busker, I nod to Warrinand tell Cynnie to stay with Logan while I help Warrin carry the picnic. With a quick kiss on the top of Sammi’s head and a stern order to stay in sight of Logan and stay out of trouble, Jack joins us.
When we’re out of earshot of the littles, I say to Jack, “Can I ask what Sammi’s punishment was?”
“Cock cage for the rest of the day. If we weren’t out, I’d have edged him for an hour then iced his dick before putting him in the cage.”
My own dick beats a retreat at that idea.
“I need to punish Cynnie tomorrow morning,” I tell him. “She has family commitments in the afternoon, so impact isn’t ideal. But I want it to be a real punishment, something she remembers, not something she secretly likes.”
“First punishment?” Warrin asks.
I nod.
“Have her kneel on rice for fifteen minutes,” Jack suggests. “It’s uncomfortable but it won’t injure her. Fifteen minutes is long enough to make an impression. Expect some tears and whining.”
Warrin nods. “If she doesn’t seem contrite enough by the end of the fifteen minutes, have her put the rice back in the bag. Grain by grain. With tweezers.”
“Lines are another good first-time punishment. Have her write out whatever she did wrong a hundred times. Any time she makes a mistake, she has to cross out the whole line and do it again.”
I keep nodding, but none of their suggestions strike a chord with me. I want something that will impress on Cynnie why ignoring people is hurtful, but also something that brings us closer.
“If I check with her about confined spaces,” I say hesitantly. “Is it okay to put her in a small space for a while?”
