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“Good girl. Come here.”
When she straightened, James wrapped his arms around her, rocking her slightly side to side. “I haven’t had to do that in a long time. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just with everything with us the past few months, and now with this murderer, I haven’t been watching my diet and I’ve gained some weight. I don’t like the way my clothes fit.”
“Then, when we get home, you can work on it. But this weekend is for us, and the next time I hear something negative from you, you’ll be making your apologies with a mouth full of soap. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Ready for dinner?”
“I guess.”
Cupping her cheek with his hand, he tilted her face up so she was forced to look at him. “You look beautiful, little one. I promise. Would Daddy lie to you?”
She smiled. “No, but you might be a tiny bit biased.”
“Biased? Because I’m married to the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world?”
Her insides went to complete mush at the ridiculous compliment, but she rolled her eyes for form. “Haha. I’m ready if you’re done sweet-talking me, old man.”
“Oh, you’re going to pay for that, you little brat.”
His fingers drilled into her sides, making her squeal with laughter. “Daddy, stop! I take it back, you’re not old!”
“That’s more like it. Let’s go.”
Linking her fingers with his, they left the house together. They left the top down on the way to the restaurant, and Olivia didn’t even mind the wind tugging at her carefully styled hair.
“We should get one of these,” she said when they parked.
His eyes were wide with surprise when he looked over at her. “A convertible? No.”
“But we need one! How can we have a beach house without a convertible?”
“Livvy, we already have two cars. We don’t need a third.”
Changing her approach, she shifted in her seat to face him and ran a hand up his thigh. “James. I really love this car. Have I ever mentioned how much sports cars turn me on?”
“Nice try, little girl. We’re not buying a car right now.”
With a defeated sigh, she pulled away. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“I suppose I can’t. Unless a certain little girl is going to pout about being told no.”
“I might.”
“Well, little girls who pout don’t get dessert.”
“Pout? Who’s pouting? I’m not pouting.”
James laughed and leaned over for a hard, quick kiss. “God, I love you.”
