Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hank
My first instinct was to stay.
“Can I come in?” Jasper gave a hesitant nod and stepped back from the doorway.
When I stepped inside, I realized the home that had been bright and open during my last visit was now more of a cocoon.
The roller shades were pulled, leaving only slivers of light to penetrate the darkened room.
Jasper had created a nest on the couch with a fleece blanket, a pillow, and another stuffie, which looked like he’d been using it as a pillow.
His sippy cup sat on the coffee table. Goldie & Bear, according to the ID in the corner, played on the TV.
“Are you sick?”
Jasper stayed quiet but shook his head, making no attempt to answer aloud. Now that I was closer and more adjusted to the light, I saw the faintest tracks of tears down his cheeks.
What the hell had happened? When I left him at the feed store, he was chatting with Jace, and I’d seen him playing with the chicks.
I wasn’t friends with Jace, but I’d seen him more times than I could count at the store, and I’d never seen him be ugly to anyone.
Had someone given Jasper shit at the store?
Had something happened at the house? I had no idea what had flipped the switch, but something had sent Jasper into a spiral.
Research could only go so far, but one thing had been clear from my reading: if Jasper was in little space, now wasn’t the time to lay out some kind of interrogation.
As it was, he seemed to be struggling to speak.
He didn’t need to be badgered by me. What he did need, though, was for someone to take care of him.
He needed his Daddy. And today, that was gonna be me.
I stepped toward Jasper and enveloped him in my arms. Without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around my torso and hugged me tight. He burrowed his face into my chest and made the smallest of cheek rubs against my T-shirt.
I angled my head down so I could whisper into his ear, “Something made you sad, sugar?” I felt him nod more emphatically against my chest. “I wish I knew how to make you feel better.”
“Daddy stay?”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, sugar.”
Jasper’s soft sigh hit me right in the gut.
The only thought running through my mind was that I needed to take care of my boy. I didn’t know how he was going to be my boy or what any of this would mean tomorrow, but tonight, he was mine to protect.
I steered him gently to the couch and then pulled him down into my lap. He settled in quietly, leaning against my chest. It took me a beat to realize he’d started crying again, silent and raw. My heart broke for him.
Whatever had made him this sad had cracked straight through the bright, flirty, fast-smiling facade he wore for the world. Someone had taken that away from him. I didn’t know who, but I was fucking furious about it.
From the moment I met Jasper, I’d known he was sunshine and light. That was what I wanted back for him. I didn’t want anyone to have the power to dim his light. Now here we were, cocooned in his living room while he cried in my arms.
Rather than stop him, I let the tears come.
I whispered softly in his ear that he was safe, that I’d protect him.
From what, I didn’t know—but I kept repeating it until the sobs tapered off and his breathing evened out.
He’d fallen asleep in my arms and on my lap.
The realization that he trusted me enough, that he felt safe enough to do that, took hold in my chest. Had anyone ever handed themselves to me and known I would take care of them?
I didn’t think so. A relationship wasn’t something I’d ever felt the need to pursue, but with the weight of Jasper in my lap, I realized it was a responsibility I wanted to shoulder.
I grabbed the blanket from beside us and tucked it around his shoulders, letting him stay curled against me while the TV played on low.
I tried to figure out what it was he loved about the cartoon.
Maybe it wasn’t anything deep—or maybe it was the world it showed, where people were kind and helpful and took care of each other.
Maybe that’s what had broken his heart this afternoon: a reminder that not everyone is kind.
Whatever it was, I knew one thing for certain: if his heart was broken, I wanted to fix it.
“Hey, sleepyhead. You have a good nap?”
Jasper sat up a little and rubbed his eyes with his fists. I gently pulled his hands away and used my thumb to wipe the leftover sleep from the corners of his eyes. I knew his brain was likely still fuzzy around the edges, but the trust he’d given me was clear enough.
“Hey, buddy, you gotta be careful, okay? I don’t think you’re all the way awake yet.”
“Not ’wake, Daddy.”
“That’s what I thought, sugar. Put your head back down. You’ve gotta ease yourself into waking up from a nap, and I think you need to soak a little before you get up.”
Jasper settled back against my chest, and I grabbed the puppy he’d been holding earlier, tucking it back into his arms. He snuggled it close, and I noticed his thumb rubbing over the top of the puppy’s head.
Every once in a while, he’d bring his fist to his mouth, then drop it back down and rub the puppy again. He did it three or four times.
“Sugar, go on and suck your thumb if that’s what you want. It’s okay.”
Jasper looked up at me with big eyes. I could see the questions swimming there, but I also knew he wasn’t in a place to talk yet.
“Go ahead,” I said softly. “Put it in your mouth. It’s fine.”
Slowly, Jasper brought his thumb to his lips and slid it into his mouth. I kissed the top of his head and ran my fingers through his hair. The longer strands curled around them, and it felt… I don’t know exactly. But it was nice.
I listened to the quiet rhythm of his sucking as he slowly brought himself back into the world, his puppy tucked close to his chest. The cocoon I’d stepped into had felt dark and unwelcoming. Now, with a calmer Jasper, it felt cozy.
When I was a kid, my mom had a picture of some kind of animal—maybe a mole—that had an underground home. It had a fireplace, and the animal sat in his wingback chair with his feet up, warming himself by the fire with a cup of tea. That’s what this moment felt like to me.
And it was interrupted by the distinct and loud sound of a tummy rumbling. And it wasn’t mine.
“Have you eaten today, sugar?”
“Not ’ungry.”
“You may not be hungry, but your tummy definitely wants food.” I tapped the screen on my phone, which was laying on the end table. Seven p.m. No wonder his stomach was making noises. I’d seen him in town hours ago.
“Daddy can’t cook.”
“Why can’t I cook?”
“Said so.”
“Nope, I said I hated cooking, but I never said I couldn’t cook.” Jasper looked crestfallen at my words. Shit. Note to self: boys in little space might be a tiny bit more sensitive than they are in big space.
“I sorry.”
“Sorry for what? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I forgot to tell you a secret when I said I hated cooking.”
Jasper eyed me suspiciously. “What ’ecret, Daddy?”
“I do hate cooking—with one big, giant, enormous exception.” Jasper waited patiently for me to finish, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Except when I’m cooking for anyone named Jasper. When I’m cooking for a Jasper, then I love it.”
“Daddy!”
“Yes?”
“I’s a Jasper!”
“You are? Well, shoot, you should’ve said something. I would’ve cooked for you sooner. Scooch off my lap, sugar. I’ve got a Jasper to cook for, and I want to get to it.”
For the first time since I’d arrived at his doorstep, I saw the light come back into Jasper. His smile was genuine, and the sparkle returned to his eyes. When he giggled at my little pushes, I knew the Jasper I’d seen earlier was on his way back to me.
The thought that popped into my head was: if Jasper needed his little time to process sadness or hurt, then I damn sure wanted to be the soft place he landed.
Saying I knew Jasper at all was generous.
We’d hung out a grand total of twice. Had shared dinner once.
But that didn’t matter one damn bit to me.
There was something about Jasper that called to me.
Fate? Lust at first sight? Hell if I knew, but it was there.
It had never before occurred to me to feel protective over someone, and I was ready to go scorched-earth on whoever had hurt Jasper today.
Another rumble from his tummy brought me back to the here and now, and I tapped his thigh to get him up since my gentle pushes hadn’t worked. This time, Jasper moved off me, and I was able to stand and stretch my legs.
“Sugar, do you need to go potty?” Jasper flushed beet red. “We all gotta go sometimes. You need some help, or you got it?”
“Gots it.”
“Okay, but make sure you get your hands washed too, okay?”
Jasper gave me a look that said I’m little, not gross, which earned him a wink.
While he headed down the hall to the bathroom, I went into the kitchen to scrounge something up for dinner.
In the fridge, I found shredded rotisserie chicken, a bunch of cilantro, and some naan bread.
By the time he came back, the oven was heating, and I was halfway through assembling our dinner.
“I hope you like barbecue chicken flatbread.” Jasper smiled and nodded, but he didn’t say anything.
One of the articles I’d read said that while in little space, the adult gets to explore parts of themselves they don’t normally show the world.
In Jasper’s case, I wondered if that meant his little self was quiet and reserved while his public self was outgoing and bubbly.
My knowledge of psychology was limited to a 101 class in college, but it was still interesting to consider.
“I help?”