Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Uh-oh.
Betsy wouldn’t like to be in Millie’s shoes right now.
10
SPIKE AND MILLIE
“Put me down!”
“No.” He carried her into one of the spare bedrooms.
“Why not? I can walk. I didn’t hurt myself. Although my boobs might disagree with me.”
He sat her down on the bed, and she gave him a disgruntled look as she pushed her hair back off her face. Spike stood over her with his hands on his hips.
“I don’t see why I’m in trouble,” she said. “Mr. Fluffy’s the one who stole the hotdogs.”
“Told you to stop running.”
Okay. Well, technically, that was true.
But she’d been trying to get the bag of hotdogs from Mr. Fluffy. If the vet called him F.A.T. one more time, Mr. Fluffy was going to lose his mind.
She just couldn’t deal with that. They’d have to find a new vet. There would be no other option.
“I mean, at least he did get some exercise in, right?” she said to Spike as he leaned over her.
“Could have hurt yourself,” Spike grumbled.
“But I didn’t, Daddy. I’m fine. Sure, I tripped a little, but I’m fine. I could run a marathon tomorrow. If I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
“You should have listened to me when I said stop.”
Millie really thought he was overreacting. She was fine.
Okay, so her ankle might hurt a little bit, but she definitely wasn’t going to tell him that. It would go away.
She hoped.
Suddenly, he crouched down in front of her and reached for her feet. She drew them back away from him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking that you didn’t hurt yourself,” he told her.
She gasped, putting her hand on her chest. “Daddy, don’t you believe me? I told you that I didn’t hurt myself.”
“Then I should be able to look.”
They stared at each other.
It was a standoff, and she didn’t have any of her weapons. Not that she technically had any weapons, but she should have brought Chompers with her. There was no way that hey could win against a T-Rex.
Her eyes narrowed; his did as well.
She gave him a stubborn look, but his look was pure Daddy.
Oh, she might just be in trouble here. There’s no way she could win against a ‘Daddy look.’
“Now, Daddy, I think we should have a little chat,” she said, as she tried to discreetly move her right foot from side to side to check whether it did hurt. Shoot. There was still a twinge there, but it wouldn’t be swollen, right? There was no way. After all, it didn’t hurt that badly. She was certain that she could walk on it.
“Got a choice,” he told her. “Give me your foot, or get a spanking.”
Another dramatic gasp, that nearly sent her flying back onto the bed, escaped her. She really was mastering the art of the gasp. And of the dramatic. She was actually thinking about producing her own play.
If she produced the play back in Nowhere, then Reverend Pat could give her the church for free. That would save her some money, and all of her friends from Nowhere could take part in her play. Yeah, that would work out well.
Hmm. What about her friends here, though? Well, she was sure they wouldn’t mind traveling to Nebraska, right?
“Baby doll! Millie!” Spike snapped his fingers in front of her, and she jolted back into the here and now.
“Yep. What is it?” It was a bit rude to snap his fingers at her.
“You were daydreaming,” he grumbled.
Oh, right. Yeah, she had been. “I was thinking about putting on a play, Daddy.”
“How about you think about giving me your right foot so I can check whether you hurt it?”
“No, I definitely wasn’t thinking about that, Daddy.”
“I know you weren’t. Give me your foot.”
Hmm, he seemed quite serious. What was she going to do? Well, she’d just have to hope her foot looked okay.
She raised her right foot, and he slid her gorgeous shoe off. She was wearing red sneakers with white laces and had little brontosauruses all over them.
“See? My foot looks fine, just like the other one,” she said as he slid the shoe off her left foot so he could compare them.
“Looks swollen,” he grunted.
“I think that’s an exaggeration, Daddy. You know, it’s not very good to exaggerate. Very dramatic of you.”
Hmm. That look on his face told her he wasn’t very amused.
Spike started to prod her right foot, and she couldn’t help but hiss as he hit a tender spot. He glanced up at her, then he shook his head. “You hurt your foot.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
She held out her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe just a little, Daddy.”
His gaze narrowed. “And you lied about it.”
“Well, I find ‘lie’ is a very harsh word, Daddy. I think I just stretched the truth slightly. It’s really not that bad. Just a little tender.”