“Oh, look at this one! So pretty!” She gathered up different pieces of material. “Hmm how much to get? What do you think of this one?”
Spike didn’t answer. She shrugged and kept chattering to herself as she strolled around the shop. Gradually, she had too much to hold. Stuff kept slipping out of her arms.
“I think I should have gotten a cart.”
He took most of it off her. “Do you need anything else?”
She glanced over at him. He was tense, his eyes continuing to search for any threats. Was he really that worried about safety?
Likely he’s just bored. This isn’t exactly exciting stuff for most people. And she’d been bouncing around the shop like a kid in a candy store. She was probably annoying him.
“No. I’m good. Let’s go.”
Fuck it.
What had he said? But before he could work out how to retract his statement, to make things better, she was turning towards the counter.
She’d seemed so happy, dancing around from place to place and now she’d shut down. He knew he should be happy they were leaving but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d stomped on something precious.
And broken it.
Unsure what to say to fix things, to put that light of happiness back in her eyes, he was quiet as he drove them home. When they arrived, he carried everything up to her room where the sewing machine was. They’d stopped at a drive through to eat and she’d chosen a salad.
That concerned him too. Since when did she like salads?
You’ve done something. Fix it.
“Want to watch a movie?” She loved watching movies and eating popcorn. And he had to admit, he looked forward to their daily movie together.
“No, thanks. Think I’ll organize all of this.”
“Want something to eat?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “We just ate.”
Yeah. But she hadn’t eaten much of it.
“Dessert? Make you a sundae.”
“Are you okay, Spike?”
He grunted. He wasn’t used to hearing her call him Spike. It was always Daddy. She’d called him Spike a few times while they were out today and he’d almost not answered her. He’d figured it was because they were in public. But they were home now.
And he did not like it.
“Daddy,” he growled.
Her eyes widened. Okay, calm down, man.
“Are you okay, Daddy?”
He let out a satisfied grunt. “I’m fine. Gonna be in my study.”
* * *
Millie hummed happily as she sewed a skirt for her Little. It was layered and would end about mid-thigh, so not something she’d wear in public. Ever since Spike took her to the store yesterday, she’d been sewing up a storm.
A knock on the door startled her and she glanced over as Spike came in. He sat on the bed, watching her at the table. “That looks good.”