“Yeah. Yeah, I am. It feels like there’s something going on, but every time I try to talk to her she just says she’s sorry for making trouble and smiles and promises to be better. But…”
“But a Daddy always knows,” Bram says with a shrug. “I get it.”
“I just wish I knewwhatwas wrong. Has Josie said anything to you?”
“No, but I haven’t asked, either. You want me to?”
I hesitate, weighing the options. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”
Eli steps into the room, his usual scowl on his face. “Lunch is ready.”
Clapping his hand on my thigh, Bram grins. “Come on. Let’s go feed our little gremlins before they turn on us.”
He rises from the couch and calls to our babygirls. Lanie and Josie obey immediately, jumping up to follow him to the bathroom so they can wash their hands.
My Little girl, however, stays where she is, carefully picking up puzzle pieces and comparing them to what’s already been laid down.
“Tabitha.”
At the sound of my voice, her head jerks up, and a bright, happy smile stretches across her face. “Daddy!”
Fucking hell, she’s adorable. But she’s also being naughty again, so I force myself to remain stern. “Is there a reason you’re not doing what Uncle Bram told you to?”
Color infuses her cheeks, but she only shrugs and returns to her puzzle. “Don’t feel like it.”
“Tabitha…” I put a warning in my voice, a warning I know she hears because the color in her cheeks darkens. And yet, she doesn’t move.
Pushing up from the chair, I cross the room to pick her up, and carry her wriggling form back to the couch, where I sit with her perched on my lap. “All right, little girl. What has gotten into you lately? You’ve been very naughty the past few days, and I want to know why.”
“I’m just not hungry,” she grumbles, her bottom lip puffed out in a pout.
“Tabitha Grace. Do I need to spank the truth out of you?”
Her head whips up and she stares at me with wide, teary eyes. “No, Daddy! I don’t want a spankin’!”
“Then I suggest you tell me why you keep breaking rules and not listening.”
“Maybe I’m just naughty.” Crossing her arms, she hunches forward, as if she’s trying to protect herself from something.
She isn’t naughty. Well, she certainly has her moments, as this week has proven. But at her core, she wants to be my good girl.
So what the hell is this all about?
“Or maybe there’s something you’re not telling Daddy,” I say softly, gently nudging her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “You know you can tell me anything, right, little one?”
For a moment, I’m sure she’s about to open up. Her bottom lip trembles ever so slightly and tears fill her golden eyes.
But then she smiles brightly and the moment is lost. “I know, Daddy. And I promise if there was anything to tell you, I would.”
She’s lying, right to my face. And I’m tempted to do exactly as I promised and put her right over my knee to spank the truth out of her.
I don’t, though. Some instinct is telling me that doing so would only force her to retreat even further into her shell.
“If that’s the case, then you better go get washed up for lunch before Uncle Eli comes looking for you.”
That gets her moving. All the Littles have a healthy fear of Uncle Eli and his wooden spoon, a fact that never fails to amuse me. I follow my babygirl into the bathroom to make sure she does, in fact, wash her hands, before taking her into the dining room and buckling her into her highchair.
Something is wrong with my babygirl. And one way or another I’m going to get to the bottom of it.
