Page 95 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

Daddy nodded once. “How much snow is outside?”

“Enough to hide the porch step.”

“You’re staying inside.”

“I’m wearing a sweater dress and high-heeled boots. I wasn’t planning a wilderness expedition.”

“The boots have fur.”

“The fur is decorative.”

“I knew it.”

Jonah lowered his mouth near my ear. “I told you.”

“You said they weren’t snow boots. Daddy is questioning the purpose of the fur.”

“It doesn’t have one.”

Daddy lifted a hand. “I’m satisfied that you’ve both reached the correct conclusion.”

I smiled at the screen.

Six months ago, that tone would’ve been followed by an order. Now he waited while I chose whether to answer.

I angled the laptop so he could see more of the cabin.

My study planner lay open beside the Russo work tablet I used during the two mornings each week covered by my contract.

Daddy noticed the planner first.

“Your practicum was approved?”

“It was.”

“And you’ve registered for next semester?”

“My tuition deposit cleared from my account yesterday.”

Daddy’s mouth tightened for half a second.

He no longer controlled that account, couldn’t freeze it, and hadn’t been asked to approve the payment.

“That’s good,” he said.

Warmth spread through my chest.

“Thank you.”

He adjusted one cuff. “The office received your December invoice.”

“I submitted it this morning.”

“Eight hours again?”

“That’s what my contract allows.”

Jonah’s thumb moved slowly against my waist.