I feel I should warn you now that this story is rated M mostly for language and events that aren’t of a sexual nature. The focus of this story isn’t sex and quite frankly, given the subject matter, it would be rather inappropriate most of the time. That’s not to say there won’t be lemons at some point, but it won’t be a smutacular event. For that, check out Play With Fire.
“Are you going to be a good girl for your mother while I’m away?” Eric asked Sadie as he finished up with his packing for Rhodes. He was leaving the night before us since he hated traveling in the coffins Anubis provided for their passengers.
“Yes,” Sadie answered in her sing-song voice while she played beauty parlor with my hair. “Mommy look to the left, please.”
I turned my head and looked up at Eric, who looked amused by what our daughter was doing to my hair.
The two of them began conversing in Old Norse, leaving me feeling a bit like a third wheel. I was torn between being annoyed by it and being proud of my baby for leaning a second language so quickly. It was important for Eric to talk to her in his language because otherwise Sadie would forget it, and I didn’t want her to forget. Besides, they were entitled to having their secrets. Sadie and I had ours, too.
After a few minutes of speaking in Norse, Sadie pronounced me finished. I got up to go look in the bathroom mirror, as was our custom, and I had to hold back a shriek. Vidal Sassoon my baby was not, but I admired her creativity.
“I never would have thought to put a ponytail there,” I said while touching just above my right temple.