“Like hell you will.” All traces of playfulness had left his voice. “Up. Now, Olivia Jane.”
She switched tactics and rolled over to give him her prettiest, most pitiful pout. “But Daddy, I don’t feel good. My tummy is sick.”
Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, pulling her up to a sitting position on the bed. “And why is your tummy sick?”
Admitting she’d had way too much to drink was out of the question, so she just shrugged. “Dunno. Food poisoning?”
“Try again.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel good.” She put as much ‘little’ into her voice as she could, hoping to gain some sympathy.
But judging by the set of her husband’s jaw, her plan failed spectacularly. “Your tummy hurts because you disobeyed your daddy last night and you drank too much alcohol. Now, unless you want to startandend your day over my knee, I suggest you get your butt in the shower.”
Most of the night was something of a blur, but there was one thing she knew for certain. One shred of hope she could cling to. “It really was just one drink.”
“I’m not in the mood for your games, Olivia Jane. Get in the shower.”
Hurt mingled with the throbbing in her head and the churning of her stomach until she felt tears burning in her throat. “Fine. Don’t listen to me.” She stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, a move her head immediately regretted.
“Asshole,” she muttered, flipping the shower on. “It was one drink.” But the words sounded hollow, even to her. She’d known when they’d put the concoction in front of her that it wasn’t really ‘just one drink.’ Hell, she hadn’t even meant to drink the whole thing. Had she drank the whole thing? She couldn’t remember. However much she’d had, it was clearly too much. Feeling sorry for herself, she climbed into the shower and lifted her face to the warm spray.
By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was feeling marginally better. At least, her head wasn’t throbbing quite so much. Her stomach was still coated with sickness and her heart hurt with the weight of the guilt she was carrying.
The guilt wasn’t assuaged by the bottle of water and the two painkillers sitting on the counter. Even when he was pissed, her daddy took care of her.
Maybe he’d spank her before work if she asked nicely enough. She couldn’t go the whole day feeling like this. Somewhat bolstered by the thought, she shrugged into her robe and headed for the stairs.
She’d just reached the bottom step when a familiar female voice reached her.
“Please don’t be mad at Liv. I ordered us the drinks. I didn’t realize they’d be so big.”
Olivia crept closer to the kitchen, curious to see where this conversation would go without her.
Her husband’s voice was a low rumble she had to strain to hear properly. “I appreciate that, Shannon. But this is between me and Olivia.”
“I just hate seeing you guys fight. You’re so perfect for each other.”
Deciding she’d eavesdropped long enough, Olivia stepped into the kitchen. As soon as she did, James’s head snapped up, his eyes locking on hers. “Yes. We are.”
Turning away from the island, Shannon grinned at Olivia. “Guess we got a little carried away last night, huh, Liv?”
Without taking her eyes off her husband, Olivia shrugged. “I guess so.”
Shannon cleared her throat and crept toward the entryway to the kitchen. “I’m going to run up and grab a shower while I wait on my ride. Thanks again for letting me crash.”
She hurried from the kitchen, leaving Olivia alone with her very pissed off husband. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi. How do you feel?”
Tears filled her eyes at the simple question. “Not so good.”
“Hmm. I bet. Come here.”
When he opened his arms she ran to him, throwing herself into the comfort he offered. “Are you super mad?” she asked, the question muffled against his shirt.
“I am definitely mad. But we can talk about it tonight.”
“Oh.” Nerves danced in her tummy. “Um, I was kind of hoping maybe we could talk about it before work.”