Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CALVIN
“Are you positive I look all right?”
Micah’s question had been repeated at least three times since we left the house and had been asked approximately ten times before we stepped foot out the door.
“Maybe you should go on your own.” Micah fiddled with his bow tie and then the cuff links before smoothing his jacket. Again.
Nix had worked his magic and gotten the tuxedo delivered in record time. It was helpful that he returned to the store in Mercer City, where the owner was only too happy to accommodate the rush order when he heard who it was for. Micah had that way about him. People went out of their way to help once they’d met him, which made the bullshit that had put him in foster care so fucking infuriating. One encounter with Micah was enough to begin falling in love with him.
Or, at least, something akin to love.
“Little one, you look good enough to eat, and every person at that country club will wonder how I managed to snag such a handsome man.” His snort wasn’t agreement, but he managed to eke out the tiniest bit of a smile. “C’mon, let’s find a good seat.”
“Daddy, didn’t Nix say you have a table?”
“Details, baby.” I came around to open his door before the valet took my keys and disappeared with the car around the corner of the club. “Remember, most people’s favorite topic is themselves. You’ll never go wrong with it.”
Micah tried to walk next to me without holding my hand, but I wasn’t having it.
Our annual club fundraiser raised money for various charities and grant-based programs around the island. Over the previous thirty years, our island had transformed from a summer retreat to predominantly year-round residents. There had always been somewhat of a divide between the wealthy families and those with modest means here. Still, as more people discovered us, there was a legitimate concern some individuals with significant needs would fall between the cracks. If Jonas hadn’t called me, there was no telling where Micah would have ended up.
That thought kept me up at night. I wasn’t thrilled when Micah took the job at Wild Fern. It wasn’t about being embarrassed that my boyfriend worked in a kitchen, but because he was worried about being a burden. Absurd that he would think so, but I’d never fault someone for having pride. His offer to contribute to the household expenses was declined. Firmly.
Once arrived, we followed the crowd into the dining room to find our table, which was front and center. In the hopes of surprising Micah, I’d arranged for Officer Hagen to join us this evening. Usually, the police chief was on the hook for attending, and without fail, he complained the entire time.
When I called the chief to request the favor, he was almost giddy about skipping this year. Unfortunately, he also demanded an explanation for why I was explicitly requesting Hagen to take over this year. My explanation skirted the truth, especially about why Micah was still with me. Given the mutual friends and acquaintances in attendance tonight, he shouldn’t have any issues finding the gossip.
“Cal, good to see you.”
“ Great to see you too.” Lies.
“Glad you could make it.”
“ No chance of me missing it.” I wish I was missing it.
“Let’s schedule a lunch. I’ve got a few investments you’re going to want in on.”
“Absolutely. Just give my office a call.” Fuck no .
“Heard you’re single these days. You know my daughter moved back to the area after her divorce.”
Micah, who’d been at my side, immediately moved to put space between us. Absolutely not .
“I’m afraid the rumors are untrue, Walter. I’m not single. Have you met Micah?”
My hand went to the small of his back to propel him forward. Micah glanced nervously at me before offering his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Is your daughter settling in well?” Micah’s smooth tone was the perfect mix of genuine curiosity and polite distance.
“Oh yes, thank you. It’s nice having her and the children back.”
“I can imagine so. How old are your grandchildren?”
That was the magic question for Steve…Stuart…whatever his name was, to launch into a detailed account of the accomplishments of all three of his grandchildren. By the end, Micah was practically a family member as they discussed the finer points of Montessori or a Scandinavian play model kindergarten.
My gut had been right about Micah. When provided the opportunity, his genuine goodness radiated from him. He was engaging and wickedly intelligent. Anyone would be proud to have him at their side, and I was no exception. I’d been sidetracked by Micah’s intriguing qualities but was jolted out of my stupor when Seth…maybe Steph… invited him to their table to chat with his daughter about schools.
“Sorry, but we need to get to our table.”
I hustled Micah to the reserved table front and center of the setup while What’s-His-Name was left waving an awkward goodbye. Other than a tentative smile, Micah didn’t react to my abrupt interruption of his conversation. It was just as well since no other explanation was available except being jealous of a paunchy middle-aged man who was mildly obsessed with his grandchildren. It wasn’t a great look for anyone, including me, but the embarrassment was an acceptable trade if it meant Micah was back to being all mine.
Once seated, a never-ending stream of people stopped by to say hello and take a better look at Micah. He was unfailingly polite to each of them. When I’d extended the offer to Micah, it was solely for the company because I hated these damn things. My work was interesting, my friends were good, and this bullshit networking was a chore. Why couldn’t I give the donation and not have to attend? Given the choice, having Micah all to myself sounded like a much better way to spend an evening.
“Daddy, do you know why Officer Hagen is here?” Micah whispered in my ear.
“Yes, I requested Hagen for the AIPD representative tonight. The chief hates these as much as I do, so there wasn’t much arm-twisting involved.”
When they got closer, I realized Hagen’s plus-one was a slender blond man who looked like he was dragging a reluctant Hagen behind him. I stood to greet them both with an outstretched hand.
“Officer Hagen, thank you so much for accepting my invitation.”
“Mr. Rutledge.” Beckett acknowledged with a nod. “Chief told me it was a command, but I’m always happy to support the community.”
Fucking same .
“Fair enough, but I’m grateful regardless. You remember Micah?”
My free hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed in a silent gesture of support. The last time they’d seen each other had been under terrible circumstances, but there was something in the way Hagen had been protective of Micah. Once I stopped being a jealous prick, I realized it wasn’t sexual. There was some kind of recognition between them that I didn’t clearly understand, but they needed each other. My gut about Micah hadn’t steered me wrong yet.
Micah was busy plucking at the cuff links I’d given him this afternoon. His solemn expression was guarded, but my boy wanted this connection, maybe friendship, desperately.
“Of course I do,” Beckett said with a genuine smile. “It’s nice to see you. How’ve you been?”
That was enough to break the ice between them. They quickly discovered a mutual love of reading and immediately began an in-depth conversation about their favorite books and recommendations that didn’t require my input or Will’s, Hagen’s boyfriend.
Despite constant interruptions, Will provided me with significant information regarding the grants and programs available through the hospital and the community. Unfortunately, what I gleaned was that few, if any, resources were allocated for the homeless here on Almstead Island. There was assistance for children and the elderly, but for someone like Micah, nothing was available. Not one single program was designed to accept him as a client. When Hagen offered to give him a ride to the ferry or where he needed to go on the mainland, he’d offered a personal favor, not an official solution.
While it wasn’t likely common, Micah couldn’t be the only unimpaired adult on the island who’d fallen on hard times. There appeared to be a significant gap in services. It wouldn’t be solved tonight, but it was an issue that needed to be addressed. The thought of Micah being back on the streets was enough to send flames of white-hot anger through me. The memory of his rail-thin frame barely covered by skimpy clothes, ready to sell the only thing he thought he had left of value, infuriated me. Before I could work myself up about it again, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
#Jamie: Have you thought about what I said?
Calvin: I’ve given it all the consideration it deserves.
Jamie: I know a fuck off when I read one.
Calvin: Good, because I don’t want to tell my best friend to get fucked. He’s not conning me.
Jamie: It’s pretty goddamn convenient, no?
Calvin: Not much is convenient about living on the streets or in a shed.
Jamie: I don’t trust him.
Calvin: You don’t know him. If you can play nice, come out to the island for dinner next week. I’ll ask Nix to fix something and you can meet him. Once you do, you won’t worry so much.
Jamie: Is this where you tell me you’re in love?
Calvin: He’s important to me.
Jamie had spent the last few days attempting to convince me Micah was part of a con, which was fucking ridiculous, but he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. There was no goddamn way Micah had arranged our meet-cute because he couldn’t have known I’d be called out there. Jonas said he’d refused to talk to him. Logic said he’d call the cops, which was precisely what Jonas had done. Jamie’s default mode was to look for problems, and it was clouding his judgment about Micah. I loved that asshole like a brother, but he wasn’t going to drive Micah away because I wouldn’t let him do it.
“Mr. Rutledge, can I get a picture?” The photographer gestured for Micah to move out of the shot. “Sir, I need you to move to the side.”
“My companion stays where he is. When you run the photo, please make sure his name is spelled correctly. M-I-C-A-H M-O-R-G-A-N. Go ahead and write it down.”
The photographer said nothing while he jotted down Michah’s name and murmured his thanks. Micah gave me a sidelong look but didn’t argue.
The evening transitioned into the auction portion, signaling there was light at the end of the tunnel. Despite their mutual shyness, Micah and Hagen managed to get into the spirit of the auction by cheering and clapping along with everyone else. During lulls in the action, they returned to their book conversation. During those conversations, Will never injected himself into the discussion, but his protective hand never left Hagen. Throughout the evening, he sought Will’s approval repeatedly. Doubtful either realized how obvious it was, but Will gave that approval with an indulgent smile. It made me suspect the possibility of a Daddy aspect to their relationship, but maybe I just wanted it to be true.
In hindsight, I appreciated that some random, overstepping man in Target helped me stumble into being Micah’s Daddy. The downside was I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. My research and reading online were helpful, but it wasn’t the same as having someone you could talk to about it.
Unfortunately, Jamie was the only person who might know something about it. Given his suspicions of Micah, I wasn’t willing to discuss anything with him. How does one ask a stranger if he’s a scowling cop’s Daddy, and if he was, would he be willing to discuss it with me? Hallmark hadn’t made a card for this scenario yet.
“We, um, are going to head out, but would you like to plan for silent book club next week?” Hagen’s nervousness and hesitance were a real surprise. I’d pumped the chief for information before finagling his invitation for this evening, and I hadn’t expected this level of shyness from him. According to his boss, Hagen was a fair cop who took control of any scene. The man I’d met tonight was quiet and shy.
“I’d really like that. Let me give you my number, and we can schedule around your shifts,” Micah responded with barely controlled excitement.
His sweet smile exuded happiness, even if he blushed a little when they explained a silent book club was meeting to read and not talk to each other. The stoic cop matched Micah’s need for solitude. The chief said Hagen was a helluva good guy, and he wasn’t wrong. Surely, if Micah were working an angle with me, he wouldn’t be cozying up to a cop. No one was that confident or foolish.
“Daddy, are you sure you want me at dinner with you? I can stay upstairs with my book or work on my research.”
I hated it when Micah tried to disappear. He’d done it in the shed, and he’d done it again when he first arrived at the house. I wanted Micah to claim any damn space he wanted.
“Baby, what are you talking about?” Although I already guessed what he was going to say. “C’mere and talk to me.”
I fetched him from where he stood in the closet doorway, watching me change, and led him to the small sitting area in our bedroom, where I pulled him onto my lap after I sat. He was stiff-backed but relaxed slightly when I rubbed my hand up and down his thigh. “Why wouldn’t I want you at dinner?”
“He’s your best friend, right?” I nodded my agreement before Micah continued, “That means he loves you and wants to protect you. He probably thinks you’re crazy for bringing a stray into your house. Heck, even a dog would need a checkup.”
Micah sounded grumpy at the last part. I hid my chuckle at his words behind a scrub over my face, but his slightly narrowed eyes meant I hadn’t been fully successful. I hoped the dirty look he gave me was a sign that he now considered my home to be his too.
“Sweetheart, have I ever told you I think your lack of cursing is fucking adorable?” Micah’s lips twitched at my words, and I took the opportunity to press a soft kiss against his mouth. “I’d say I’d watch my language, but it’s a lost cause.”
“Oh, I don’t care about other people’s language. I promised my mom about mine, so I try to keep my word.”
“Yeah? Tell me.”
Micah’s small laugh was bittersweet. “When I was six, I said the F-word because I dropped my piece of chocolate cake, and she heard me. Mom said hearing that kind of ugly from her sweet boy hurt her heart.”
“Were you her sweet boy?”
Micah nodded. “Yeah, she used to call me that. Sometimes I’d tell her to stop, but now I’m glad she didn’t.”
“What was she like?”
“Kind. Loving. Too forgiving when it came to my dad. She grew up in foster care, so I’m not sure if she had much in the way of role models. It’s probably why she stayed with my dad. I was little, but I remember him treating her awful. She’d cry in the bathroom sometimes, but when she opened the door, it was like nothing had happened.”
“Do you visit her now?”
“There’s nowhere to visit. My brother had them cremated. I hid her in the closet so Kyle wouldn’t do anything dumb with her, but it’s been years since I was at the house. There’s no telling what happened to her.” As he spoke, the wistfulness in his voice was impossible to miss. “For months after she was gone, I thought my brother was lying to me and she’d come back. Kyle always swore it was my fault, and maybe it was.” Micah sighed with a shrug.
“How the hell is that your fault?”
“I was making a habitat diorama for school and needed sand. It was already close to dark, but she said she’d run down the street for some from the playground. We were going to mix it with glue and make a riverbed. My dad was mad she left the house instead of fixing his dinner, so he followed her. They were in the crosswalk, but the driver didn’t see the red light. I waited for her for hours, but it was my brother who showed up. And then he got drunk.”
Micah’s voice trailed off and he went somewhere far, far away. When he finally returned to me, it was with a valiant, watery smile. “Tell me about Jamie, please.”
“Jamie and I grew up together. Our parents are tight, and I don’t think I remember a time when we weren’t friends. He joined the army, but when he returned, he joined the company to do our security.”
“What does he think about you being…what did you settle on?”
“I settled on queer since it doesn’t require a precise definition. And he was surprised, but he’s gay, so what could he say about it?”
“What will your family do when they find out?”
“About us?”
“About me.” I don’t think he meant the gay part, but rather him, Micah, the person whose entrance into my life was unusual, to say the least.
“They’ll be surprised, but they’ll be fine. If anyone takes issue with it, they’ll keep it to themselves, but I doubt they will.”
“What’s your family like?”
“Close knit. My parents and both sets of grandparents spent every holiday and birthday together, so no one had to deal with a split. Mom and Dad are only children, so no close cousins. Jamie is it. My dad’s dad is my only grandparent left.”
“I want them to like me.”
“Little one, it’s impossible to dislike you.” I ignored his choked snort. “I like you if it helps.”
“In general, yes. Specifically here, no.”
Despite the importance of our discussion, my cock swelled with Micah positioned directly over it. Every shift of his body forced me to cover the groans that threatened to spill out of me. My fingers slipped into his wild curls, bringing his mouth closer to mine. I pressed a kiss to his mouth and then another. His soft sigh awoke my cock even more when I returned a third time and deepened our kiss. Micah’s lips were a goddamn gift.
After my business trip, I’d been unwilling to let Micah return to the guest bedroom. He’d been in my bed each night since. Keeping my dick under control was a nightly struggle, but I’d managed to control myself. I hadn’t jacked off in the shower this much since I was fourteen. I desperately wanted to claim Micah, but until I was certain he’d accepted his place in my life, I wouldn’t let myself take the next step. The wait was fucking killing me.
“How was I lucky enough to find such a sexy boy?”
I traced a finger across his lips. I stifled a groan when his pink tongue circled my fingertip. Chuckling, I dipped it inside his mouth, and his tongue swirled around like he was sucking cock. Unfortunately, I didn’t think we’d have time for that, and it was a goddamn shame. Micah pulled off my finger with a pop.
“Little one, I like playing with you. It’s like a toy.” I gave him another soft kiss and added, “And I’m selfish with them…I don’t like to share.”
“It’s hard not to touch myself, Daddy. Sometimes, I have to sit on my hands to stop myself.”
“When I was in Vegas, I wondered if it would be a problem. In case it was, I picked up something that might help.” I dropped my hand across his peen and gave him a slight squeeze. “But I like the idea of you wearing it when I’m here too.”
“What is it?” Micah’s puzzled brows furrowed together in confusion. I tapped his hip to move him and strode quickly across the room to my bedside table. In the top drawer was a small box that I kept in my hand and returned straight away to Micah. I resettled him on my lap and gave him the white box. With my encouragement, he opened it. “Daddy, what is this?”
“This, sweetheart, is a cock cage.” Micah’s mouth formed a silent O , and damned if that didn’t force me to kiss him again. “The strap here wraps under your balls and keeps the cage part in place. It all locks together with a key.”
Micah gingerly lifted the silicone cage out of the box. It curved downward with an open tip that would allow urination without issue. Only the tiny lock was metal, so there’d be no worries about accidental awkward sounds.
“Daddy, why do you want me to wear it?”
“Because I want you to remember how much I want every part of you.”