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He watched her in his periphery. Currently she worked on putting what looked like musical notes coming from one of the windows in silver icing up the side of the house.
“Perhaps we need to redo the contract.”
She snorted. “No man will own me like that, Mr. Rhodes. No matter how much money they have. I’m not a whore.”
“No one will ever call you a whore, Peach. I’d ruin anyone who thinks it. But you are mine. I don’t care what excuses you give yourself during the day but I was with you last night and into this morning. I’m the one who made your body sing, made you scream my name to the room, and I’m the one sitting right here instead of at my desk working wearing, proudly I might add, the claw marks you put in my skin.”
She opened her mouth but whatever she was going to say she swallowed as a woman and two small children walked through the door. Outside the rain had picked up even more, thinning those on the streets.
“Ms. Cadianne!” the boys yelled together as they rushed the glass display.
The woman with them looked exhausted yet her gaze was full of love as she watched the boys. Livingston realized he never had a parent look at him in such a manner.
He winced at the sharp kick to his lower leg, more like his ankle, then snapped his gaze to the woman at his side. Her brow furrowed as she glared at him.
Livingston jacked up his eyebrow at her.
“Stop frowning at the boys, you’re scaring them.”
He shook his head, hadn’t even been aware that was what he’d been doing. Before he could respond back, Daisy looked away from him to send the twins a wink along with a smile.
When he caught the growl threatening to leave his throat, he realized what she was giving to them, he wanted for himself.
* * * *
Daisy nibbled on her lower lip as she stretched her back out from being bent over while decorating her gingerbread house. Outside the shop, the storm had kicked up in intensity. She and Livingston had been here for going on three hours now. The interior of the shop was warm and smelled of, well, Christmas. Mulled spices, sweets and joy, if that had a scent.
This Livingston wasn’t one she was used to seeing. Not that I have a lot to go by but still, he’s different here than inside the casino.
Cadianne had roped them into working in the back. Daisy had rolled pastry dough, decorated, served, cleaned, washed. And through it all, Livingston had been beside her, putting in the hard work all without a single complaint.
The door through to the front had been propped open and Daisy could hear Cadianne’s thick Louisiana drawl as she spoke to their current customers. She had other shops to visit but hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave. There was just something about this woman that she couldn’t explain, a pull to be in her space.
Livingston moved up behind her and she closed her eyes as his warmth spread around her, even though he didn’t touch.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever spent a day like this.”
She glanced up at him. “Working?”
“I work, Peach.” He settled his hands upon her waist, tugging her back to rest against his chest. “I haven’t spent an afternoon making and decorating a gingerbread house, then working in the back of a bakery.”
Daisy spun around, wrapping her arms around his middle to keep herself from stumbling back. “You didn’t make gingerbread houses when you were growing up?”
Shadows crossed his features. “That’s not something which was done in our childhood.” He dipped his head and locked gazes with her. “Fun wasn’t a thing in our house.”
Her heart broke for him. And she found she wanted to comfort him. The start of her life may have been shit but she’d landed in an incredible home eventually and had been blessed with more love than she had known what to do with.
Livingston stepped back from her and she didn’t like the feeling. Cadianne walked through the doorway seconds later. She gave them a smile and said, “Make sure you take your gingerbread houses when you leave.”
Daisy had opened her mouth when Livingston spoke, “We will, thank you. And we appreciate you allowing us to spend the afternoon here.”
“She is welcome here anytime.”
Not understanding the look between them at that statement, she flicked her gaze back and forth a few times. Livingston didn’t allow her time to question it, he settled his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the back of the establishment to the front door.
Looking out of the door, she noticed the same town car from before, waiting. When he’d called for his car, she didn’t know. She didn’t turn back when he reached beyond her and plucked his heavy wool coat off the hook.
