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“I wasn’t running.”
“No?”
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, wiping her face with her palms again. “I was slidin’. Is different.”
“Still naughty,” he muttered. “No ice cream for naughty girls.”
“But Daddy?—”
“No ice cream,” he said again, more firmly. Her lip fully rolled out in a dramatic pout. She even pulled out the big guns—her biggest, best puppy dog eyes. No one could resist those. “None of that.” He tapped her lip. “As cute as you are when you pout, no ice cream, baby girl.”
“No fair,” she breathed. He shook his head as he moved to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack.
“What’s not fair is you doing something I told you not to do, and taking away our movie time,” he said as he turned back toward her.
“I took our movie time away?” Tears welled in her eyes. She loved movie time. “How comes?”
“Because instead of watching a movie, you have to write lines.”
Her mouth fell open. “Lines?” she cried. “No way. That’s a cruel and unusual punishment!” His lips twitched, but he quickly shifted his expression back to stern. Shoot. She almost got him.
“It could be you writing lines while you have a hot bottom instead,” he mused, and her eyes widened.
“No hot bottom!” she cried, and he grinned.
“That’s what I thought. Show me where it hurts.”
She lifted her leg, looking down at her knee. It was a bit red, but not too bad. And it wasn’t even hurting that much anymore. But she was still feeling dramatic.
“See, it’s broken, Daddy. There’s no way I can write lines with a broken knee.”
His stern expression didn’t change as he gently poked at her knee. She dramatically winced, but he just watched her as he continued prodding at it. Was he going to do that all day? She wanted him to feel bad and give her some ice cream.
“You think it’s broken?” he asked, and she nodded pittifully.
“So broken, Daddy. See? Can’t even move it.” She pretended to try to move her leg, and when it stayed stiff, he sighed.
“I guess since it’s broken, you deserve some ice cream, huh?” Her eyes widened. She won? Grabbing her under the arms, he lifted her to the floor. “Go get some. It’s in the freezer.”
“Really?” she breathed, her suspicions rising.
“Yep. If you can make it to the freezer on your broken leg, you can have some ice cream.”
Oh, the rat.
Her eyes stayed narrowed as she took a step. Then another. And another. Until she was finally at the freezer. Yanking it open, she pulled out the unicorn ice cream she’d begged him for at the grocery store the other day, and turned.
His arms were folded over his thick chest, one brow raised as he watched her. “Not broken, then?”
“It’s a miracle!” she cried, throwing her arm out. “It’s an ice cream miracle!” He snorted, shaking his head.
“Are you really hurting, baby? I need to know.”
She let out a long sigh. “No, Daddy. Not hurting.”
“Good. Then you can eat and do your lines at the table.”
“What? I still have to do those? But I’m injured!”
