Page 52 of Daddy's Laws

When she finished coloring a picture of an owl, brightly adorned with colors no self-respecting owl would ever wear, she pushed to her feet and ran into the kitchen. “Daddy, look!”

His smile was pure indulgence, without even a hint of mockery. “It’s very pretty, princess. But no running in the house.”

For the first time in her life, a gentle rebuke had tears stinging her eyes. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s all right. Just be careful, okay?”

“‘Kay.” Peeking over his shoulder, she bounced on her toes when she spotted the batter he was carefully pouring onto a hot griddle. “Pancakes! I love pancakes!”

“They’re almost ready. Go clean up your crayons and wash your hands.”

Without bothering to argue, she did as she was told. Rebellion didn’t occur to her until she settled at the table and he placed a colorful sippy cup in front of her.

“I don’t need that. Those are for babies.”

“I’d like for you to try it. Just for breakfast, and if you decide you hate it, you don’t have to use it again.”

“But I don’t want to.” Crossing her arms, she flopped back against the seat and glared at the offensive cup.

“I understand. But you promised you would trust Daddy, and that means doing things you think you don’t want to do.”

“But sippy cups are for babies and I’m not a baby!”

“Shannon. If you’re going to throw a tantrum, you can go sit in time out for ten minutes.”

The threat of a timeout was like having ice water tossed in her face. Part of her had secretly hoped for a quick, hard spanking that would leave her squirming in her chair for the rest of breakfast. Timeouts were just boring and no fun.

With an unhappy sigh, she uncrossed her arms and sat up in her chair. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Her mouth fell open when realization hit. A spanking would have simply fed her inner brat, but the threat of a timeout had silenced her, at least for the time being. “You’re mean.”

Leaning over the table, he cut her pancake into small pieces and dribbled maple syrup on top. When he lifted a piece to her lips, his own curved into a knowing smile. “Like I said, princess. I’m not afraid of brats.”

* * *

After breakfast,Daddy took her back to the beach. And even though he made her practically bathe in sunblock and he only let her stay in the water for fifteen minutes at a time, she had more fun than she’d had in a long time.

By the time he tucked her into bed for a much-needed nap, she was too worn out to even consider arguing.

When she woke again, Daddy was sitting at the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, frowning at the laptop screen in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and pushing herself into a sitting position.

Looking over at her, he smiled and shook his head. “Just some work things I was taking care of while you were out.”

He’d left his floral-patterned havana shirt unbuttoned. It should have looked ridiculous, but when he crossed the room with his well-defined abs on display, her body’s response was instant and fierce.

And when he crawled onto the bed with her, covering her body with his own and claiming her lips in yet another smoldering kiss, she decided then and there to buy him a whole closet’s worth of those shirts.

An hour later, they were both naked, sticky with sweat, and panting like they’d just run the New York marathon.

“Remind me to make sure you take naps as often as possible.”

“It was the shirt.” Letting her head roll to the side, she grinned at him.

“The shirt?”

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