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He wanted to take care of her.
“What punishment did you get?”
“A spanking.” Her lip wobbled. “I was naughty. I guess I deserved it.”
“Hmm. It was naughty when it wasn’t your doll. I’ll buy you all the dolls you want, then you can do what you like to them.”
Maggie gave him a delighted look. She’d been made to feel like she was deficient or wrong when she’d cut the doll’s hair. But really . . . why did they have scissors in the playroom if you weren’t allowed to use them?
Although she did steal them out of the crafting area.
“Who spanked you?”
“One of the monitors.”
“What was his name?”
She shook a finger at him. “Nuh-uh, you can’t go after him.”
“I could.”
“Well, I don’t know his name, and that’s the truth. You can’t go after everyone who’s ever punished me. He was doing his job. What I agreed to.”
“I don’t like the idea of anyone punishing you but me and Ian. Yeah, I’d like to watch Ian take you over his knee and spank your bottom until it’s red and you’re sobbing.”
Her eyes were wide as she gaped at him. “You sound like you’d enjoy that a lot.”
“I would. But we can’t spank you while you have a sore hip. So I need another punishment for you.”
“You won’t take Ziggy away, will you? Or my new things!” Worry flooded her. “I’ll be a good girl! I promise.”
“Hey, no. I would never take Ziggy. Or any of your other toys.” He carefully lifted her onto his lap.
She could feel herself trembling. Which was a tad silly. Turning her head, she buried it into his chest, breathing in his woodsy scent.
He lightly gripped the back of her head. “I would never do something like that, baby. Ziggy is yours.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I guess it’s just some leftover stuff from when I was a kid. After Uncle Willy gave me Ziggy, he became my favorite toy. So my mum would use him to punish me.”
He held her tight, kissing the top of her head. “I had a shitty dad. He was never around and when he was, he’d either be yelling, sleeping, or drinking. But my ma . . . she was amazing.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
He tensed and then relaxed. “Ian told you?”
“A little. I know she died.”
“She was in pain and sick, and instead of thinking she better go to the doctor, she just kept working. Thinking about me. What I needed.”
“It sounds like she loved you so much.”
“She did.” He stared off into the distance.
“She wanted the best for you, like a good mother should. I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”
He gave her a strange look. “Would she? I’m not so sure. Is your mum proud of you?”
She snorted. “Not in the slightest. I don’t want to talk about her, though.”
