30. Ariana
30
ARIANA
I tug at the hem of my uniform shirt for the fifth time in two minutes and glance sideways at Jasper, who’s parked in front of the coffee shop like he’s preparing for battle instead of dropping his girlfriend off for her first shift.
“You’ve got your phone, right?” he asks, scanning the sidewalk, the windows, the passing cars.
“Yes,” I sigh.
“You’ll keep it on you? On—not in your bag.”
“Yes.”
“And if anyone acts weird, anyone at all, you call me. Immediately. Don’t try to handle it yourself.”
“Daddy…”
“I mean it, rainbow. You don’t engage. You don’t argue. You don’t even have to clock out. I’ll handle it.”
I let my head fall back against the headrest. “I’m going to work in a coffee shop, I’m not infiltrating the Russian mafia.”
He doesn’t laugh. His jaw’s too tight for that. “In our world, it’s not overreacting to take precautions.”
I twist in my seat and reach out to cup his face. “Daddy, I’m okay. The guy who hurt me is gone. You made sure of that.”
His eyes flick to mine, and I feel the tension slowly begin to ease.
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” I continue, softening my tone. “And I’ll be smart. I promise. But I need to try this.”
His hands cover mine where they’re pressed to his cheeks. “I know. I just…”
“You worry.”
“Like fucking crazy.”
I lean in and kiss him gently. “I love you.”
He nods, eyes dark and serious. “I love you, too.”
When I pull back, his fingers linger on my wrist, and he says, “I’ll be close by. I’ll keep out of the way, but I’m not going far.”
I smile, grabbing my bag from the floorboard. “I didn’t think you would.”
He gets out first, opening my door for me. His hand brushes over the small of my back as we walk, and I roll my eyes when I notice he’s already checked every face on the sidewalk.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“You know, most people get coffee before work, they don’t do a full security sweep.”
He doesn’t even blink. “Those people don’t have you.”
I don’t argue. There’s no point. He’s going to hover, and worry, and probably drive the manager a little crazy before the end of the week, but he’s also going to love me better than anyone ever has.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
I step into the coffee shop, the bell above the door chimes, and the scent of fresh espresso wafts through the air.
It’s a new beginning. And this one I’m truly looking forward to.
* * *
B y the time I step out of the coffee shop after my shift, I’m running on fumes. The soles of my feet throb inside my shoes, my calves ache with every step, and my brain feels like it’s been through a blender—set to high. I had no idea how exhausting it would be to smile on command, juggle drink orders, and try not to screw anything up while figuring out how the damn register works. I’d give anything to sit down, take my shoes off, and never move again.
The moment I push through the front door, I see my Daddy leaning against the passenger door of his truck like he owns the world. His arms are folded across his broad chest, his jaw tight, and his eyes locked on me like a hawk. My overprotective, overbearing, entirely too handsome man.
The second our eyes meet, he straightens. His gaze sweeps over my slumped shoulders, the way I’m dragging my feet, and his whole expression softens.
“How was it?” he asks, opening the door for me.
I groan and practically collapse into the seat, letting my head fall back against the headrest. “Good,” I mumble.
He leans in, tugs the seatbelt across my lap, and clips it in with a soft click. “What did you learn? Did anyone treat you badly? Any weirdos come in?”
I turn my head just enough to shoot him a look, then groan and press my forehead to the cool glass of the window. “Too many questions, Daddy. My brain’s full.”
He chuckles, and it warms my soul. “All right, baby. I’ll behave. When we get home, we’re putting you in the comfiest clothes you own before dinner.”
I nod, too tired to argue. “Comfy sounds like heaven.”
His hand finds my thigh as he starts the engine, rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of my pants. The drive is short, but the rhythm of the road and his hand lull me until my eyes drift shut. I’m half-asleep when we pull into the driveway.
I don’t even try to unbuckle myself. Jasper does it for me. The next thing I know, he’s lifting me into his arms like I weigh nothing, his lips brushing the top of my head. “Let me take care of you.”
I melt into him, too tired to feel embarrassed or shy. The house is dim, the warm glow of a few lamps gives off enough light to head directly upstairs. When we step into the playroom, the world seems to shift. The soft pink walls, the gentle twinkle of fairy lights strung across the ceiling, the fluffy rugs. It all makes me feel like I’m shrinking into something softer. Smaller. Safer.
He sets me on the changing table, and I immediately lie back, eyes fluttering shut.
Until I hear the rustle of plastic.
My eyes snap open in time to see Jasper pulling a thick, crinkly diaper from the cabinet. I blink, my cheeks heating.
“Wait… Daddy…” I shift slightly, the paper lining beneath me crinkling. “I can’t wear that to dinner.”
He pauses and lifts his eyes to mine, calm and steady. “Why not?”
“Because… they’ll know.” I bite my lip, fidgeting.
His brows lift slightly. “Ember wears hers. Nobody says anything. It’s normal in our family.”
“Yeah, but I’m not her,” I whisper.
“No,” he agrees, placing the diaper down beside me. Then he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re not. You’re mine. And my girl is exhausted and overthinking.”
I glance at the diaper. Thick. Soft. Familiar now. And so, so comforting.
And I am so, so tired.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Just… do what you want.”
His lips brush my forehead. “Good girl.”
He undresses me carefully, peeling away the layers of my work clothes with slow, reverent movements. The cool air prickles over my bare skin as he wipes me down with soft baby wipes, the scent of baby powder curling around me like a lullaby.
The diaper crinkles loudly as he lifts my hips and slides it under me. When the tabs are fastened, snug and secure, I wriggle a little, adjusting to the soft bulk between my thighs. I don’t know why I always find it comforting, but I do.
Next he dresses me in the softest pajamas I’ve ever felt. Baby pink with white stars and a sleepy bear embroidered on the chest. The long sleeves hug my arms, and the matching pants fit perfectly over my diaper. He adds fuzzy socks and then gathers me into his arms again.
“Better?” he whispers.
I nod, already deep into Little Space. “Mhm. So much better.”
He carries me across the yard to the main house, the stars twinkling above us, the air cool against my cheeks. My diaper rustles with every step, loud and obvious, and I bury my face in his chest.
“Hey,” he says softly. “No one’s going to blink. You’re safe. Always safe with me.”
When we reach the dining room, Jasper doesn’t even bother setting a plate in front of me. He keeps it close to him, cutting the food into little bites and feeding them to me one at a time. The others are chatting like nothing’s out of the ordinary. Ember sips juice from a bottle, and Rowie tells a story about something funny she saw on TV.
And me?
I rest my head on Jasper’s shoulder between bites, drifting.
Loved.
Protected.
His .
* * *
T hree weeks.
It’s been three whole weeks since I started working at the coffee shop, and every single day I’ve come home with sore feet, caffeine in my veins, and a full heart. Jasper drives me to and from every shift, waits nearby the entire time, and never once complains. Not even when I get a little cranky or take forever to clock out.
Today feels different, though.
He keeps glancing at me on the drive home, a secret tucked behind his smirk.
“What?” I ask, smiling suspiciously.
He just squeezes my thigh. “You’ll see. I have a surprise for you.”
That’s all he says. And now I’m squirming with curiosity by the time we pull onto the gravel drive. When we park, he climbs out quickly and hurries to my side, pulling the door open and holding his hand out.
“Come on, rainbow.”
The sparkle in his eyes makes my heart thump. I take his hand, letting him lead me across the property, past the main house, past the pool and playground, and toward the garden beds I’ve been neglecting a little too much since the accident. The doctor says my energy will eventually return, but I’d like it to happen sooner rather than later, before all my plants die. Although from the looks of it, someone has been helping keep them maintained and weeded. And honestly, that doesn’t really surprise me. I have a feeling it might be Theo, but then again, it’s possible it’s Jasper, too.
And then I see it.
I freeze mid-step. My breath catches in my throat.
There, nestled beside the garden, is my camper.
But it’s not the same weather-beaten, broken-down RV I once lived in.
It’s brand new.
Freshly painted in a soft, dreamy pink, with white and purple daisies scattered across the sides like little bursts of sunshine. There’s an adorable striped awning stretched out over two pastel-pink Adirondack chairs, and a miniature white picket fence surrounds it like a fairytale yard. Inside the fence, there are potted flowers, a little birdhouse, and a welcome mat shaped like a cloud.
It looks like it belongs in a picture book. Like something plucked straight out of a dream.
I turn to Jasper, my mouth falling open. “What is this?”
He grins, slow and proud. “It’s yours. I know how much the camper meant to you. It was your home when you had nothing else. I couldn’t get rid of it, so I fixed it up. Thought maybe you’d want your own special place, close to the garden. Somewhere to play when you’re outside.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and my heart swells.
He brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. “Go look inside.”
I nod, legs shaky, and walk through the little picket gate and up the short steps. The door creaks, like it always did, but everything beyond it is brand new.
My mouth drops again.
The interior has been completely gutted and transformed. Fluffy white carpet stretches across the floor, and the walls are painted in soft pastel shades of yellow, lavender, and sky blue. Twinkle lights zigzag along the ceiling. Bins of toys are neatly stacked in the corner, next to a low shelf filled with picture books and coloring supplies. In the middle of the room, sits a giant beanbag chair—so soft and plush I just know I could curl into it and never get up.
It’s perfect.
I spin around to run out and thank him, my hands halfway up in the air, ready to tackle him with a hug, but I stop dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me.
Jasper is at the bottom of the steps, one knee on the grass. In his hand is a small black box, open, revealing a delicate silver ring with a daisy-shaped stone in the center that glitters under the sun.
I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth.
He looks up at me, eyes shining. “Ariana, I love you. I love all of you. You’re my girl, my Little one, my heart. I want to keep you forever. Will you marry me?”
For a second, I can’t breathe.
Then I’m walking down the steps, tears already sliding down my cheeks. I throw my arms around his neck and nod so hard my head wobbles.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He laughs and slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
“I want to be your girl forever,” I reply into his neck.
He pulls back just enough to look at me and kisses me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
And for the first time in my life, I truly believe I’ll get a happily ever after.
Because I’ve found it.
Right here with him.