Chapter 3
ALLEN
How could I have messed up two orders so badly? It wasn’t a little mistake either. It was huge and could really mess up future orders if those crates didn’t get where they were going on time.
As much as I wanted to dwell on my failure a bit longer, I didn’t have time for a pity party.
I grabbed three fresh bottles from my storage shelf and started printing new labels.
My printer seemed to move excruciatingly slow, but eventually, it spat out three pristine labels with the correct address for the crates.
My phone rang just as I was heading to my car.
Jeff's face filled the screen, all smug and expectant. Jerk. My jerk, but still…
I considered not answering, but he was a good distraction from my self-loathing. "You're a terrible friend."
"I know.” Jeff laughed, completely unbothered by my accusation. “So, how was your night?"
I tried to sound annoyed, but a smile tugged at my lips despite my best efforts. "Well, first of all, you ditched me."
"And then…" He sounded way too pleased with himself. "Come on, spill. Did you talk to the lumberjack Daddy?"
My cheeks heated at the memory of Patrick's hands on my hips as he looked at me like I was something precious, even while we were doing something decidedly not innocent in a bathroom stall. "Maybe."
Jeff squeed. "I knew it! Tell me everything. Did you get his number? Are you seeing him again? Is he huge? He’s huge, right. He had too much confidence not to be packing."
"No, I didn’t get his number, and no, I’m not seeing him again. And heck no am I telling you about his cock."
“Which means you know how big it is.”
I sighed as my fingers found the tender spot on my shoulder that he’d left a mark on. "Fine. We hooked up in the bathroom and then went our separate ways. Not going to give you any peen descriptions, so don’t even try. That's it. All that happened."
"That's it? You can't just hook up with a hot Daddy and not get his number." He blew out a frustrated breath like all his efforts were for naught. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
"Sorry, but that’s literally what a hookup is." I put on my seatbelt and leaned my head back. "Besides, it's better this way. I don’t exactly have time to date or to complicate my life."
Even as I said it, something in my chest ached because I kinda wanted to complicate my life.
At least a little bit. And I definitely wanted to see Patrick again.
But he didn’t know I was Little and that wasn’t exactly a safe conversation to have with a stranger.
Been there. Done that. Dealt with the consequences. Never again.
"You're such a liar." Jeff’s voice was gentle as he backed off. "But I'm glad you had fun. You needed it."
"Yeah." It had been fantastic and by far the hottest thing I’d ever done. "Thanks for ditching me, I guess."
"You're welcome. Oh, actually, I called to make it up to you.”
“How?” I couldn’t hide the suspicion in my voice. “Because I don’t have time to go out again. I totally messed up some orders by rushing yesterday.” I was going to be paranoid every time an order was shipped from now until forever.
“No, nothing like that. I ordered you some milk from the app I loved. It’s the best."
"Seriously!” I’d been trying a new regular supplier for months, but they weren’t available. It was a case of you had to be there the second it was listed or you lost out. Supply and demand and such. “Thank you so much!"
Fresh human milk was my absolute favorite thing in the world. Better than any store-bought options but expensive and hard to come by. The warm, sweet comfort of a bottle before bed helped me slip into Little space like nothing else.
"Uh-huh. I should cancel since it ended up working out so well, but I’ll be nice and send you the address. You can pick it up anytime today."
“You’re the bestest friend ever!” I glanced at my watch and cringed. “But I gotta go. I’ll call later.” I disconnected the call and started the car. Before I pulled out of my parking space, Jeff sent a text with an address on Fifth Street.
Right next to the bakery I was on my way to. Talk about kismet!
The drive across town was quick, and I found parking easily on Fifth Street. The milk pickup was in what looked like a small apartment entrance next to a bakery.
Finally, luck was on my side. I'd get the crates into my car and then grab the milk.
The bakery was called Sweetie Pies, and the window display was gorgeous. Perfectly arranged pies and cookies made my mouth water just looking at them. A little bell chimed when I pushed open the door, and the smell of butter and sugar hit me immediately.
I made a mental note to grab some cookies to enjoy with my milk.
It was warm and cozy inside with a few tables and a long display case showing off all kinds of baked goods.
Just looking at them made my stomach rumble because I accidentally forgot to eat breakfast.
A woman at the counter smiled at me. "Welcome to Sweetie Pies. What can I get you?"
"Oh, I'm actually here to see..." I shifted the box in my arms and realized I didn’t ask for a name. "I’m here about the wrong honey delivery?"
Her face lit up with recognition. "Oh! You're the honey guy. Let me grab Patrick for you."
She disappeared through a door behind the counter, and I stood there clutching my box as my heart started to beat faster.
She just said Patrick. The baker's name was Patrick.
What were the odds?
As soon as I heard footsteps, I looked up and my heart stopped because the man walking toward me in a flour-dusted apron and an expression of complete shock was Patrick.
My Patrick.
The lumberjack Daddy from the bar.