Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Not until four. It’s a short walk, so let her rest.” Unable to stop myself, I chuckled. “Champ deserves it.”
“John,” she hissed, and I pulled her from the room and to the sofa.
“Quinn,” I said, amusement still coursing through me. “Don’t go backward and get upset.” I hung my head, my shoulders shaking with mirth. “That was epic.”
“My daughter just assaulted her father.”
“Who was making some fast hand gestures indicating his ire. I think she felt threatened.”
“You saw that too?”
I nodded. “Your little girl just let her anger out and showed the man who walked away that she was stronger than he will ever be. I know getting hit in the nuts isn’t fun, but she is six. He outweighs her by over a hundred pounds and has fully developed muscles. I highly doubt she was strong enough to do much damage. He’s a fucking wuss.”
“She was pretty mad,” she agreed. “The whole cowboy thing was upsetting her, now that she’s a farmer and all.”
I nodded. “Defending our people.”
A snort escaped her lips, and she tried to look serious. “Do you think I need to get her more therapy for some residual anger issues?”
I started to laugh so hard, I fell back on the sofa.
Quinn glared at me. “That was a serious question.”
I sat up, wiping my eyes. “I’m a simple man, Quinn. You know this. I don’t quite understand the whole therapy thing, but if you think she needs it, we’ll get her more. Or if she wants to talk, we’ll listen. If she has anger issues, I’ll get out my old punching bag and hang it in the shed, and she can punch the shit out of it.” I huffed out a long breath of air. “I think she was mad. Upset. Caught off guard. That’s gotta be hard for a kid. And she remembered our bully talk. It was an extraordinary set of emotions and, frankly, a fucked-up encounter. We all reacted, but she reacted the fastest. It doesn’t mean she’s suddenly going to be punching everything that upsets her.”
“If she does?”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” I met her eyes. “Together.”
She rubbed her head, and I let her process for a minute. She fell back on the cushion, covering her eyes.
“I need to talk to her.”
“I agree.” I nudged her. “She called me the best daddy.”
“I heard.”
“I think we should talk to her together.”
She peered at me from between her fingers. “In that talk, you are not going to use the words epic, asshole, or pig shit.”
“What about cooties?”
“John,” she warned.
“Can I high-five her for the nut-punch? I really hope there is security cam footage or someone caught that on their phone. I would blow it up into a motivational poster. David and Goliath sort of thing.”
Quinn bit her lip, trying to stay serious and not laugh.
“Junk-punch—not just for adults.”
She lost it, slapping her hand over her mouth and laughing.
I wanted her to laugh. To see the twisted beauty behind the event. We would be adults and talk to Abby, but right now, Quinn needed this release.
“Someday you will remind her of this, and she’ll be horrified,” I said, pulling her close and kissing her.
“I hope it becomes a distant memory to her.”
“I hope she never forgets it,” I insisted. “And she isn’t being punished, right?”
“No,” she sighed. “The whole thing was punishment enough.”
“Good.”
I tugged her head to my chest. “Relax a bit, darlin’. I think we all need a bit of recovery time.”
She snuggled closer. “Yeah.”
I woke up to Abby’s smiling face looking at me. “Hey, Pumpkin.”
“Hi.”
I glanced at my watch. “We have to leave in about twenty minutes. Where’s Momma?”
“Right here.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Quinn in the corner. She was watching us quietly.
“Everything okay?”
Abby leaned closer. “Momma and me talked while you were sleeping.”
I was glad they’d had some time to discuss what had happened earlier. “I see.”
“I’m not in trouble.”
“No, you’re not.”
“But I won’t punch people.”
“Good plan.”
She dropped her voice, covering her mouth, as if telling me a secret. “You’re not supposed to teach me no more bad words, Farmer John. Momma says I’m like a parrot.”
I had to contain my smile. My bad words had been used perfectly today, but I knew I couldn’t say that. “Momma is right,” I said seriously. “No more punching or bad words.”
Then Abby smiled. “But Momma is going to put me in real karate classes!”
“Well, that’s a good idea.”
“I think another good idea is we get ready to go,” Quinn stated.
Abby scrambled off my chest. “I’ll get my shoes!”
I sat up. “She seems fine.”
“You were right, I think. She is fine. We talked, and I’m leaving it alone now.”
I stood and pulled her off the sofa. “Good. Can we forget about him and go back to the birthday celebrations?”
She smiled at me. “Yes.” She patted my chest. “Are you okay? I mean seeing, ah, her?”