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“What the hell was that noise for?”
“It was a grunt of thank you. I thought you’d easily understand, Grumpy Bear.”
“I understand you’re a brat.”
To her shock, he gently took hold of her hands and started washing them. She glanced into the mirror and let out a squeal of horror.
“What? What is it? Is the water too hot? What’s hurting you?”
“I’m not in pain,” she cried. “Look at me! Oh my God! I look terrible.” She tried to straighten up her hair. It was all tangled. She had dark smudges under her eyes and her skin was so pale that she looked ill.
“You do not look terrible.” He carefully drew her hands from her hair and dried them. “Don’t say that.”
“I can say it if it’s true, Daddy.”
Oh.
Whoops.
They stared at each other in the mirror. He broke their stare-off first. Picking her up, he turned her, setting her on the counter next to the sink. Cupping her cheek, he leaned in and kissed her. She melted against him, until she remembered that she hadn’t brushed her teeth since yesterday morning.
Drawing back, she smacked her head against the wall behind her.
“Ouch! Owie!”
“Fuck. Why did you do that?”
“Because I have stinky breath,” she cried, reaching back to rub her head. “And now I have messy hair, stinky breath, and a sore head.”
“Sore head, huh? I ought to give you a sore bottom as well for talking about yourself like that.”
She sniffled, feeling tears dripping down her cheeks. “Grumpy Bear, that’s not nice.”
“Let me look at your head and for the record, I like you calling me Daddy better.”
“Really?” she asked as he turned her side-on so he could check the back of her head.
“Don’t say things I don’t mean, girl,” he replied gruffly.
Funny how his blunt approach was more soothing and reassuring than if he’d tried to actually be soothing and reassuring.
She guessed she liked the way he was. Because she knew he wouldn’t lie to her. Or beat around the bush with his words.
She had to take him as he was.
And how he was, well, it was pretty damn perfect.
“No bump. Girl, you need to be more careful,” he scolded, turning her back and putting his hands on the counter on either side of her. “Your breath doesn’t stink. You don’t look terrible. And the next time you say anything like that, or pull away from me because of something ridiculous like that, I’m going to put you over my knee.”
“What if spanking is a hard limit?” she asked as he searched under the sink for a new toothbrush and toothpaste. He put some toothpaste on the brush.
“Open,” he told her.
“Um, what?”
“Open up. I’m going to clean your teeth.”
“You are?” she squeaked.
