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The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection

Page 143

by Frost, E J


  Remembering my own thoughts on the subject, I chuckle. “I was calling it a bratting of submissives.”

  That draws laughs out of both men.

  “I’m glad they’re keeping Emily occupied.” Will I collar her without the platinum chain and lock? My heart revolts. The chain and lock have a lot of meaning to me, to both of us. But I’m not going to ruin this day for Emily. She’s looked forward to it for a month. She’s driven herself crazy making sure all our guests’ needs were met. If I have to collar her with twisted bits of florists’ wire, I will. “I just can’t figure out where the hell it could have gone.”

  “Where’d you see it last?” Mac asks.

  Niall and I groan in unison.

  “We’ve been through that already. The collar and lock were together, in a velvet box, in that drawer yesterday morning.” I point to the dresser. Mac crosses to it and opens the drawer. He shakes his head and closes it. “Really? It didn’t just appear?”

  Mac snorts. “Okay, you’ve looked everywhere already.”

  “Everywhere. I honestly can’t figure out where the fuck it would have gone, Mac. The box isn’t small.” I hold out my hands to approximate the six inch by six inch box. “And with the chain and lock in it, it isn’t light. It couldn’t just fall behind the dresser or something.”

  “Have you looked?” Mac asks.

  Of course I haven’t, so we spend five wasted minutes dragging the dresser out of the corner and looking behind and underneath it. All we find are dust bunnies.

  Niall stands back, his head tipped to the side, staring at the dresser as Mac and I move it back against the wall.

  “What?” I ask, dusty and frustrated.

  Niall shrugs. “Probably nothing.”

  “Great.” I stomp over to the closet and pull out a hanging bag. I know the box isn’t in it because I haven’t opened it since I packed it in New York, but I’m feeling the twitch of anxiety and one fucking thing has to go to plan, I unzip the bag and reach into the jacket pocket. My fingers close reassuringly around a small, velvet box that I withdraw and open. Niall and Mac come to stand beside me. Niall gives a low whistle.

  “Fancy.”

  I nod and take out the ring, my mother’s engagement ring that I’ve had reset with a pink champagne diamond for Emily. Each of the men look at it and then hand it back to me.

  “At least that part of today isn’t fucked.” I return the ring to its box, tuck the box back in my jacket pocket, and zip up the bag.

  “Today won’t be any less meaningful to Emily,” Mac says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Don’t let it be any less meaningful to you, son.”

  He’s right. I nod. “I told Emily to stop worrying about whether this weekend was perfect. Looks like I’m going to have to take my own advice.”

  “That’s gotta be an even more bitter pill to swallow than the headache tablets,” Niall says. “Speakin’ of which . . .”

  I wave him towards the bathroom. “Emily never travels anywhere without an entire pharmacy. Take whatever you want.”

  With another rub at his temple, Niall shuffles off towards the bathroom.

  Mac picks up a sheet from the floor and starts remaking the bed. I get on the other side of the mattress and help him spread and tuck.

  “Son, I don’t want to point fingers,” Mac says, fluffing a pillow. “But you’ve got to consider whether someone took it. It was platinum, right?”

  “I have. I just can’t see anyone here doing that.”

  “Martyn have any housekeepers?”

  I shake my head. “Evidently, he does everything himself.”

  Mac tosses me an edge of a blanket and we spread it on the bed between us. “Can’t really imagine him taking it, can you?”

  I shake my head. “Not in a million years. On top of him being a natural daddy and knowing how it would destroy Emily, I’d think he’d be too worried about the inn’s reputation.”

  “Heard that little, Aggie, say to her daddy that maybe the ghost took it. This inn haunted by a light-fingered ‘ghost’?” He brackets the word with air-quotes before picking up Emmy’s Ravenclaw binkie, folding it, and placing it next to a pillow.

  “No, there’d be something in reviews of the inn online and Emmy would have mentioned it. Although she thought it might be Molly’s ghost, too.” I shrug. “When all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

  Mac frowns and shakes his head. “Who said that?”

  “Emily’s second favorite detective: Sherlock Holmes.”

  “So, we’ve settled on the ghost taking it?”

  I chuckle, despite the remnants of my hangover and the lingering sense of failure. “I guess.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mac says. “You mind if I speak to Martyn?”

  “Be my guest.” I trust Mac with my life. If he thinks he can get something out of Martyn I didn’t, more power to him.

  “Okay, son. I recommend you take a nap to take your mind off this and let those pills work. You want to be fresh for the ceremony. And if you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t look too fresh.”

  I don’t feel very fresh. “Thanks.”

  Mac chuckles and tosses a throw pillow at me. I catch it and pat it down on the bed, then stretch out on top of it.

  “There you go.” Mac nods at me before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

  The bed dips with a weight settling onto it. I know without opening my eyes it isn’t Emily. Too heavy and Emmy cuddles up to me immediately. Always.

  With a groan, the person next to me kicks off his shoes. I open an eye to peer at him. “Are we sleeping together now?”

  “Feck off.”

  I chuckle quietly as I relax back into the pillows. “Your head hurting as much as mine is?”

  “More.”

  “You were the one who ordered that last round of whiskey shots. Something about making a man out of me before Emily made off with my balls?”

  “Feck off harder.”

  I knuckle-noogie his shoulder.

  He grunts before reaching out to pinch my ear.

  “Ow.”

  “Wanker.”

  “Gobshite.”

  * * *

  Giggling wakes me. I smile without opening my eyes, because I know that giggle. I’d know it anywhere.

  “Sh-sh, you’ll wake them.”

  Aggie’s voice. Nothing like a bunch of excited littles trying to keep quiet.

  I hear soft steps on the rug under the bed and a faint warmth against my side.

  “Yes, little girl?”

  She jumps and squeaks. “We were trying not to wake you, Daddy.”

  “Come here, monkey.” I hold my arms out and sigh when she climbs on top of me and snuggles. “I don’t mind being woken up for snuggles with my little girl.”

  “I love snuggles with you, too, Daddy.” She peppers kisses over my chin and throat. “We’re going to try to contact Molly’s spirit again and see if she can guide us to where my collar is.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Gimme a minute and I’ll get up.”

  “Me, too,” Niall grumbles from beside me.

  She slides out of my arms and joins the whispering circle on the floor. I roll to my side and then to my feet with a groan, but I actually feel much better. The lingering bands of the headache have relented and my stomach’s settled. I sit on the floor behind Emily and rub her back gently.

  Emily, Austin, Aggie, and Cappa circle the Ouija board they’ve set on the rug between them. Each touch two fingers to the funny-shaped pointer while Laurel, Vashi, and Shaan look on.

  Niall heaves himself off the bed with a protest from the bedframe. When he throws himself down next to Vashi, I swear the floor shakes. Vashi reaches out and guides Niall’s head into her lap. He closes his eyes with a gusty sigh. When Shaan rests his hand on Niall’s arm, Niall grabs his partner’s hand and pulls him down so Niall can clutch Shaan’s arm to his chest. Shaan spoons in behind Niall. I can’t help
but smile at the contentment on all three faces.

  “Okay, let’s all of us focus on the same question this time,” Austin says in a hushed tone, although why he’s trying to be quiet when both Niall and I are up is a mystery. “Molly, do you know where Emily’s collar is?”

  The funny pointer slides straight to “yes.”

  “Did you take my collar?” Emmy asks in a whisper.

  The pointer slides to “no.”

  Emily bows her head. “Thank you, Molly. Do you know where my collar is?”

  The pointer slides back to “yes.”

  “Please help me, Molly,” Emily pleads. “Where is my collar?”

  The pointer begins zipping over the letters. D. R. A. W. E. R.

  “Daddy,” Emily breathes.

  I climb to my feet and open the drawer, not believing I’m following the instructions of a ghost. The drawer is still empty.

  I turn and shake my head.

  The pointer slides to “yes.”

  “Emmy, I’m sorry, baby girl, but there’s nothing in here.” I pat the drawer.

  There’s a hollow thunk and a rustle.

  Niall lifts his head from Vashi’s lap. “Feck was that?”

  He pikes to his feet as I try to pull the drawer all the way out. It slides out half-way and then won’t budge.

  “There must be a latch or something,” I tell Niall as I tug.

  He slides his hands along the underside of the dresser’s top, feeling for a latch. Shaking his head, he peers into the drawer. “Thought it looked wrong. Drawer’s too short.”

  He reaches in, patting at the back. I hear again that hollow sound.

  “Can you get it out?”

  “Lemme get some tools.” He slaps me on the back and lopes out of the room, moving faster than I’ve seen him shift all day.

  He returns with Martyn and Mac while I’m still trying to find a latch or something to release the drawer.

  Eventually, with Martyn’s consent, Niall unscrews the top of the dresser and we lift it off to peer within.

  There’s a clever mechanism embedded in the top of the dresser that catches the back of the drawer, preventing it from being pulled all the way out. At the back of the drawer, there’s a long, narrow compartment. The velvet box with Emily’s collar and lock sits in the compartment on top of three bundles of letters.

  I can’t stifle a cry of triumph as I lift out the velvet box.

  “Daddy!”

  I turn and catch my baby doll as she launches herself at me. I wrap my free arm around her and kiss her laughing little face.

  “Molly found it!”

  I have to agree. “She did, little love.”

  Martyn sits in one of the chairs, careful not to crush the stuffies, and gingerly opens one of the letters. “She also led us to a treasure. These are letters from Teddy to Molly.”

  Emily wriggles in my arms with excitement. “They could answer whether there really was a secret marriage.”

  “Certainly could,” Martyn agrees.

  Niall and Mac have lifted the drawer out of the dresser and are examining it. When they turn it over, they find a little brass combination lock set into the lower lip of the drawer.

  “Three tumblers,” Niall muses. “Nine digits on each. Lots of potential combinations.”

  “Eight-nine-four,” Cappa says.

  “What?” Niall and I say in unison.

  “Eight-nine-four,” he repeats. “Those are the numbers Molly gave us yesterday.”

  Niall slowly thumbs the lock. There’s a click and a pair of rusty pins pop up out of the back of the drawer.

  “Bet that releases the mechanism so you can slide the drawer out,” Niall says. Then he and Mac reassemble the dresser and demonstrate that the combination lock does exactly that.

  “That’s very clever,” Martyn says. “I bet there aren’t many other examples from the eighteenth century.”

  “That’s original?” I ask as a shudder passes through me. “And you let us take it apart?”

  Martyn shrugs. “It’s just a piece of old furniture. Not nearly as important as a little girl’s happiness. Now, I’m going to head downstairs and call my good friend Thomas who is the curator of the Niagara Falls Museum and make his whole year. I will see all of you in the dungeon promptly at noon.” He takes out a pocket watch and taps it. “That’s just over an hour. Don’t be late.”

  He leaves with a huge grin.

  * * *

  An hour later, I stand on a platform Martyn’s set up in the second dungeon, facing Niall and Mac. Niall’s wearing his Boglioli suit, and I’ll admit the jacket looks like it was made for him, but I’m still not sure I’d drop two grand on it. Mac’s standing next to Niall wearing a dark gray and navy checked suit that I’m pretty sure is off the rack and doesn’t look that much worse.

  My suit is still in the bag in the closet upstairs. After the relief of finding Emily’s collar, I decided I wanted us both to come to the ceremony naked. Open and vulnerable. That’s how Emmy makes me feel and I want our union to reflect that.

  Emily welcomed the change of plans, the way she always does, accepting her daddy’s will. I carried her down from our room, wrapped around me like a limpet in the way that I love, her face tucked into my neck. She whispered to me the whole way, thanking me for being her forever-daddy and for every experience, good and bad, we’ve had together, telling me she’ll always love and trust me.

  My heart feels too full to be contained by my ribs by the time I walk to the dais and set her down. She folds gracefully to my feet, kneeling in the Nadu position, with her eyes down. I can’t keep my hands off her and stroke her soft curls as I face Niall and Mac.

  “Everyone hold hands,” Niall says. There’s a lot of rustling and movement behind me as people redistribute themselves around the room, but I only have eyes for Emily.

  “Look at me, baby doll,” I whisper to her.

  Emily lifts her gaze and I drown in those big, baby eyes.

  “Love you, Daddy,” she mouths.

  “Love you, too.”

  Niall clears his throat and I cast a smile his way without taking my eyes off Emily’s.

  “Today we’re celebratin’ the union of Logan and Emily. They’ve come before us with free minds and open hearts, in trust and mutual respect—”

  My throat tightens as I recognize the words from my contract with Emily. I wonder if she snuck it to Vashi so Niall could crib from it, the bastard. I stroke my knuckles down Emily’s cheek and mouth “busted” at her.

  She grins.

  “—to formalize their vows of dominance and submission to each other,” Niall continues. “Logan, yeh’ve committed to command and care for Emily as her dominant and her daddy, to nurture her body, mind, and spirit. To help her grow and achieve her goals. Emily, yeh’ve committed to honor and obey Logan as his submissive and his little, to support and serve him body, mind, and spirit. To help him achieve fulfillment and happiness. Please both confirm this commitment by sayin’, I do.”

  “I do,” Emily and I chorus.

  “Logan, do you offer Emily yer love, yer honor, and yer trust?”

  “I do,” I say, holding Emily’s eyes which are beginning to mist with tears.

  “Emily,” Mac says. “Do you offer Logan your love, your honor, and your trust?”

  “I do,” my sweet baby says.

  “Emily, bend and kiss Logan’s feet to show your submission.”

  She folds over gracefully and presses her soft lips to the top of my left foot and then my right foot.

  “Logan, take this collar and put it around your submissive’s neck to affirm your dominance.”

  Mac opens the velvet box and I lift the collar out of it, holding one end in each hand and letting the half-dozen charms dangle.

  “Emmy, lift your hair for me.”

  Still bent over my feet, Emily reaches up and scoops her hair over her head with her forearm. I drape the chain across the back of her neck.

  “Hold t
he ends of the chain and sit up, sweetheart.”

  She does, her wet eyes immediately lifting to mine, her smile beatific.

  “Logan,” Mac says. “Take this lock and lock your submissive’s collar.”

  I take the thumbprint-sized lock out of the box and hold it in front of my baby girl.

  “Emmy, do you accept my lock?”

  “I do, Daddy.”

  I hook the lock’s prong through the link at each end of the collar and snap the lock shut, then slide the tiny key out of the lock and hold it up.

  “Emmy, I promise to keep this key safe as I keep your heart safe.”

  “Ta, Daddy.”

  I offer her my hand and help her to her feet, then I go down on one knee before her.

  She bends over me, brushing her cheek against mine. “Daddy, you shouldn’t be kneeling.”

  “Yes, I should, sweetheart. I have one more vow to offer you. Do you want to kneel with me?”

  She nods and sinks to her knees so we’re facing each other.

  I glance up at my friend and former commanding officer. “Mac?”

  He switches boxes smoothly and opens the ring box. I take it out and hold it up in front of Emily. Fat tears roll down her cheeks, but she keeps her eyes on mine.

  “My baby, my little love, my most precious girl, you’ve accepted my collar and called me your forever-daddy. Will you also do me the very great honor of being my wife?”

  She presses her lips together and nods, then says hoarsely, “I will, Daddy.”

  I take the ring and slide it on to her third finger before I pull her to me for a deep kiss. The pounding of blood in my ears at the press of her soft body against mine drowns out the cheering around us.

  When I let her up for air, I smooth her curls back from her face. “I believe someone is due some orgasms.”

  She grins. “You, too, Daddy.”

  “Believe me, I’m claiming those orgasms. Do you want them now?”

  She chews on her lower lip, her eyes searching mine. “I do but I don’t.”

  I lean in and nip her lip. “I know exactly how you feel, little love. I think maybe we should celebrate with our guests for a while, but we’ll save our own celebration, with orgasms, for later when we’re in private.”

 

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