4. John
Chapter four
John
My condo becomes visible as I finally reach my street. The drive from Southern California to Los Vegas is always a boring one for me, especially alone.
Damn, I can’t wait to live in Olivia Cove officially. Hopefully, it will only take me about two more weeks or so to get everything finalized with work. My mind drifts back to Riley, and I wonder if he’s received my gift yet. A part of me was nervous about giving him all those gifts and leaving my number, but I wanted him to have the option to chat if he needed it.
He looked so sad playing by himself yesterday. I don’t know if he was just having a bad day, if he was just sad he didn’t take part in the auction, or if it was something else entirely. Either way, I wanted to be here for the boy if he needed someone.
I’m finally settling in for the day and cooking dinner when my phone vibrates, indicating I’ve got a new text message. When I unlock my phone, I come across a number I’m not familiar with, but my heart starts racing as I recognize the zip code and read part of the message.
It’s Riley.
Unknown Number: Thank you, Santa Daddy! This was the bestest gift ever.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach and I’m unable to fight my grin. I’m forty-five freaking years old, and this boy has me acting like a damn teenager. The feeling is intoxicating.
Turning off the stove, I check the pot of chili I made before placing it on the other burner that isn’t hot. I save Riley’s phone number in my contacts, then reply.
John: Of course, sweet boy. It was my pleasure. I hope everything is okay.
As I eat dinner, I mindlessly scroll through a few articles on my phone, but after about thirty minutes, it’s obvious Riley isn’t going to reply. Did I scare him by being too forward? I reread my text and kick myself for saying I hoped he was okay.
Then again, any good Daddy would hope for the same. Instead of wallowing in what-ifs and why nots, I watch a movie and fall asleep on the cold sofa.
The harsh sound of my phone vibrating against my glass end table startles me awake. I don’t usually fall asleep in my living room, especially with all the lights and TV still on. So, it takes me a moment to get my bearings together. Some random movie I didn’t select is playing quietly in the background. I blink around at my empty living room and remember most of my stuff is already in Southern California.
Another vibrating noise assaults my ears, and I snatch the phone from the end table.
Riley: Good morning, Santa Daddy.
I grumble to myself as I check the time. It’s four in the morning. What the hell did this boy mean ‘ Good morning ?’ It’s still nighttime. Clearly, I’m not one who functions properly when I just wake up, and I’m about to ask the boy why he’s up at such an ungodly hour when another text comes through.
Riley: I’m much better now. Thank you. I spent most of the night curled up with Eefoowie, and the soft blanket you got me.
Oh fuck. My heart.
Imagining Riley cuddling with my blanket, pretending it’s me, makes me simultaneously melt and get hard. Not that he said he was imagining the weighted blanket was me, but hey, a guy could hope.
John: I’m so happy you loved my gift and already started using it. But I need to ask you, why are you up so late, baby boy?
A smile curls my lips when Riley immediately starts typing.
Riley: Oh no! Did I wake you up? I’m used to all my friends keeping their phones on silent. I’m a baker. I’m actually just starting my day.
John: A baker, huh? I remember you mentioned you love baking.
It makes me happy that Riley found a job with something he loves. Slowly, I stand and stretch. Dear lord, I can’t believe I fell asleep so early, and on the sofa, no less. No wonder my back is screaming at me.
I shuffle my way to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. Even though I’m a little groggy, I got plenty of sleep, and I’m thinking my body just needed it after the move and the drive back.
Riley: Yes! I love baking. I co-own a business with my twin sister. We expanded the business this year and renovated the kitchen.
Once my coffee is ready, I settle back on the sofa since most of my furniture is already in Oliva Cove.
Riley: And what do you do? Or is being a Santa Daddy a full-time gig?
I chuckle.
Over the next hour, we text back and forth, just getting to know each other. I tell him about my career in finance and how I’m now in a position to retire early so that I can go full time with my woodwork.
He sprinkles me with questions about all the different furniture I make, and when I admit I make kinky furniture as well, he litters me with even more questions that have me giggling like a schoolboy. Riley is vivacious yet sweet, and his sense of curiosity is endearing.
Riley tells me all about how his baking took off when he was invited to make colorful cookies and sweets for Olivia Cove’s Pride Event the year before.
John: No way, I was there! I loved your baked goods. I had the cutest sugar cookie that was in the shape of a rainbow with a little bear sitting on it.
Riley: You even remembered what my cookie looked like?
Riley: Oh my gosh! That sounds so dirty!
I can’t stop smiling as I make it to work an hour early. I’m determined to get my ducks in a row so that I can move sooner rather than later.
Maybe it’s the romantic in me, but as we continue texting throughout the day, I’m starting to think that what started off as me needing a fresh start in a new town has turned into something that feels a little more like fate.
John: If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?
Riley: I’m thirty-two. How old are you?
Something about reading his age makes me feel better. I’ve dated younger, but I always feel like I’m robbing the cradle when I do, especially when the boys I dated seem to be after my money. Knowing that Riley owns his own business, seems well-liked in town, and is older than most of the boys I’ve met recently soothes my nerves.
John: Forty-five.
I hold my breath. Now, let’s hope he doesn’t mind how old I am.
Riley: Good to know. Am I supposed to call you Santa Daddy from now on?
I groan. Oh shit, I haven’t even told him my name. Not to mention, he doesn’t even know what I look like. Should I send him a photo? I scroll through the gallery on my phone and frown when I realize I don’t have any photos of me.
I toggle over to my social media and notice my only decent photo is several years old. Damn. I’m going to have to update my profile picture. I’ve been so focused on work for the past ten years. I can’t remember the last time I took a fun selfie.
John: I don’t mind if you call me Daddy Santa. But my name is John. I also go by Daddy John to most.
But if I’m being honest, I would prefer him to just call me Daddy.
Damn.
With just a few stolen glances and a day spent filling each other’s phones with text messages, Riley now has me wrapped around his little finger.
I’m in so much trouble with this little.
(December 25 th )
John: Merry Christmas, baby boy!
Riley: Merry Christmas, Santa Daddy! Thank you for the gift. I love it!
Suddenly, the breath leaves my lungs as a photo loads on my phone.
I’m staring at an adorable photo of Riley wearing the Chibico-themed apron I found him. When trying to find Riley the perfect Christmas gift to send him, I fell down a rabbit hole, trying to discover what exactly Chibicos are. From there, I found out they were adorable little creatures that reminded me of a cross between Pokémon and Neopets , only cuter.
Apparently, there is a whole fandom based on the manga and anime, and I get the impression that the owner must be a little because there are so many items available for adults that scream little and boy.
John: You look so gorgeous, Riley.
And I mean it. Somehow, he’s gorgeous and cute and handsome all at once.
These past two weeks have flown by, and we text each other constantly. Other than sleeping, I don’t think we’ve gone more than two hours without chatting.
Staring at the photo, I take in his appearance. He’s hugging his stuffie to his chest and beaming into the phone. The colorful apron is visible, and he isn’t wearing anything underneath. I’m pretty sure the flirty little thing did it on purpose.
I want to respond with a photo of myself, but I’m a little nervous it will pop this beautiful bubble between us. Riley has sent me several photos over the past two weeks, and I promised myself that when he asked for one of me, I would send it, only he hasn’t asked. A part of me is thankful. I don’t plan on breaking that promise, but I love the idea of a grand gesture with me dressed up and looking good for him.
Just a few more days, baby boy, and you’ll get to see me in person.
Riley: Thank you, Santa Daddy.
My lips twitch at the nickname. He hasn’t called me Daddy yet, but he also doesn’t call me John. Santa Daddy feels like a name that’s just for us. And even though I’ve slid into an online Daddy role easily, I feel like that’s something that needs to be decided in person.
The Daddy/little dynamic is very important to both of us, and the title is more important than others might understand.
John: What time will your sister and dad get to your place?
Riley: They will be here around noon.
I check the time.
John: That’s still several hours out. Make sure you eat a good breakfast.
Riley: I will. I’ll send you a photo of what I make.
I love how he does this now without asking. When I found out just how many carbs my little baker loved to eat, I insisted on healthier meals. And to my delight, he loves showing me how much he can follow directions.
John: You’re such a good boy, Riley.
Riley: I wish you were here.
John: Me too. You know I would have dropped everything to be there with you today, but you insisted you needed to spend it with your family.
Riley: I know! I’m kicking my past self. All I’ve ever wanted was to spend Christmas with my Daddy. But I also wanted you to spend today with your bestie. This will be one of the last times you two will get to spend the day together for a while.
My chest fills with warmth. This boy undoes me. He has the sweetest heart. He knows I used to harbor feelings for my straight best friend. But now that I’ve been talking with Riley, I truly wonder how deep my feelings really were. Sure, I love Teddy as a friend, but I think that’s about it. Teddy and I wouldn’t have worked. Not only is he straight, but we are too similar; both dominant and career-oriented.
But I’ve changed over the past year. I climbed to the top of the ladder in my career, and there’s nowhere to go in this company. The desperate need to be successful in my career has shifted. Now I want a boy to call my own and for my woodworking business to take off. I want to go on vacation and pick up the hobbies I used to love, like hiking and working out.
Most of all, I want to spend time with my boy.
After years of all work and no play, I took a vacation over the summer, hoping to meet more like-minded people, and maybe find a little of my own. And for the first time since taking that trip, I’m happy I didn’t meet anyone, because it led me to here and now, with Riley in my life.
John: I know our relationship has been solely through texts, but what you’ve given me this Christmas has been more than any lonely Daddy could have ever asked for.
Riley: It’s the same for me, Daddy. I feel it. What we have here is special. I can’t wait to meet you.
My heart pounds as I read his text. Daddy .
Not Santa Daddy.
Just Daddy.
(January 2 nd )
“And he has no idea you’re here?”
I shake my head and grin. “I wanted to surprise him. Thanks for letting me get ready here.”
Hunter smiles. “No problem. You’re a member of the club. And even if you weren’t, Dark Satin is always open to you. Hell, you’ve made half the furniture here.”
“True. God, it’s really a thing of beauty. I can’t believe so many of my pieces are on display like this. Thanks again for commissioning me.”
“So, where are you meeting Riley? Or are you just going to show up at his house and knock?”
“That’s the thing; Riley should be at work right now, and I’m fucking kicking myself for never asking him the name of his bakery. I spent the last fifteen minutes sorting through my phone, trying to find the name of his place. I was hoping you could help me out. If not, my next plan was to walk into each bakery, hoping to find him.” I laugh. “I just might need a little caffeine if I do that.”
“Damn, you are really embracing this whole grand gesture thing, aren’t you? Why don’t you get yourself a coffee?”
“Fuck. Coffee sounds so damn good right now. I’ve spent all morning driving. Any recommendations?”
Hunter smirks, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “You know, everyone deserves a little Cinny Latte.”
I remember enjoying a delicious cup of coffee and a scone from that café the last time I was in town. I narrow my eyes as understanding hits me, and I groan. “That’s the name of the place he owns, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you head over there and find out?”