“But what if you get tired of me? What if I’m too naughty? What if?—”
“Stop.” At my sharp command, she presses her lips together as if she’s physically preventing herself from speaking. “Good girl. Now, like I told you before. There is no amount of naughtiness that could make me not want you as my wife and my Little girl. If you are naughty, Daddy will punish you. Sometimes that will mean spanking your cute little bottom, sometimes it will mean taking away privileges like being allowed to go outside and play. But it will never,evermean me sending you away. Okay?”
“Okay.” Doubt still lingers in her voice, and I have to bite back a sigh.
Instead, I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good girl. Do you have any other questions for me before we go back out to the living room?”
Perfect white teeth worry at her bottom lip for a moment before she nods slowly. “I can ask anything?”
“Yes. I promise to answer to the best of my ability.”
“Your family keeps talking about a ceremony. Will you tell me about it? I–I don’t really like surprises and I don’t wanna freak out again in front of everybody.”
An easy enough request. Hooking my hands beneath her arms, I lift her from the vanity and carry her over to the changing table, where I grab a fresh diaper and a bottle of baby powder. “My family has some… unique wedding traditions.”
From the table, she watches me through wide eyes as I sprinkle the powder over her private parts and slide the thick cotton beneath her bottom. “Like what?”
“Well, first of all, you won’t be wearing a wedding dress. You’ll only be wearing your diaper.”
Red floods her cheeks. “Oh, Daddy, no! I’ll die of embarrassment!”
“You won’t die, little one. And you’ll need to get used to people seeing you in various states of undress at some point. There will be times when Daddy is busy or needs to go on a trip, and your auntie and your uncles will be responsible for taking care of you when I’m not around. Which means bathing you, changing your diapers, helping you get dressed.”
“I could do all that myself. I’m not really a baby.”
Once the tabs of her diaper are secure, I lean down so we’re nearly nose to nose. “But you are, my sweet little firecracker. You are Daddy’s baby and you will always be treated as such. Now, do you want to hear about the rest of the ceremony or do you want to keep arguing?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, making it clear she does indeed want to keep arguing. But then her bottom lip puffs out and she sighs. “The ceremony, please.”
“What good manners you have, little one.” Lifting her from the changing table, I rest her on my hip, bouncing her lightly as I continue my explanation. “Do you know what handfasting is?”
“Sort of. It’s a kind of wedding tradition, right? Where you tie each other’s hands together?”
“Close enough,” I say with a chuckle. “We have something similar, except it’s only your hands that will be bound with a special blue rope so you have your something blue. And Auntie Gray will do your hair so you can wear our mother’s wedding tiara, your something old.”
Worry crinkles her brow. “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s probably way too nice and I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t ruin anything, little firecracker. And it’s our tradition, so I don’t want to hear any more arguments. Understood?”
Pouting again, she ducks her head. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. For your something new, Daddy has a pacifier you’ll wear during the ceremony, and for your something borrowed, you’ll carry Auntie Gray’s brush.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that brush.”
“That’s very much the point. It’s to help remind you that your Daddy and the other grownups in your life will never hesitate to give you the discipline you need.”
Okay, so I made that last part up on the fly. Really, all of our “traditions” have been created pretty much the same way, with the exception of our mother’s tiara. That is one of the few things we brought with us when we fled our old life to build something new here in Colorado.
I don’t want to depress my babygirl with the details of our violent past, however, so I keep all that to myself as I carry her back toward the living room. “Once you’re ready, Daddy will walk you down the aisle and we’ll say our vows.” I hesitate, wondering if I should tell her the rest. More than once now I’ve promised to never lie to her, and a Daddy never breaks a promise if he can help it.
But I have also told her that sometimes I will need to keep secrets from her for her own good. And this feels like one of those situations wherenottelling her about the final act in my family’s wedding ceremonies is certainly for her own good. The last thing I want is for her to be panicking about what comes next while we’re pledging to spend the rest of our lives together.
So I smile and tap her cute little button nose. “And then we’ll have a big celebration with lots of cheering and banging on pots and pans, and you’ll be a Thorne, forever and ever.”
“Forever’s a really long time.”
There is still a tinge of sadness in her voice that has those violent tendencies stirring in my chest again. I squash them for her sake and press a kiss to her hair, inhaling the scent of baby powder clinging to her. “It is. And it’s still not long enough, as far as I’m concerned.”
