Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Cole
Two weeks after my birthday, I sat in my office, enduring grueling phone call after phone call.
“Of course, I understand.” I tossed my pen to the side and pinched the bridge of my nose.
A headache loomed on the horizon, one that had been slowly building over the last few hours.
Yes, I understood the poor woman’s struggle, but that didn’t make the day any less stressful.
“Yes ma’am, I promise I’ll get a crew out as soon as I can. ”
“Oh, God bless you. Merry Christmas, Mr. Davis.”
“Same to you.”
Thankfully, the conversation ended there. For the first time since dawn, I powered down my work phone. Normally, I wouldn’t have, but I needed a break. It was six p.m., and I’d hardly moved from my desk all day.
I rotated in my chair and gazed out the window of my home office. A fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground, glittering in the moonlight. Christmas lights reflected off the plush white surface, making my front yard look like a Hallmark-worthy Winter Wonderland.
But to the owner of a construction company in central Georgia, it was less than mystical.
It didn’t snow in the south. At least, not like this.
Four inches had fallen overnight, the most that the state had seen in years.
Seeing as I was from the Midwest, that wasn’t a lot for me but in Georgia?
It might as well be the end of the world.
This level of snow had the potential to shut the whole state down.
People took it more seriously after Snowpocalypse 2014, but it was still an issue.
The snow wasn’t the problem, after all. It was the layer of ice inevitably hiding beneath.
Outside of the obvious dangers of black ice on the roads, ice was heavy.
It weighed down tree limbs and prevented pipes from expanding properly, which meant roof damage and flooding.
I’d spent my entire day organizing crews to tarp houses and dry out floors until proper repairs could be made.
A whopping two weeks before Christmas, the storm couldn’t have come at a worst time.
I really owed some of my crew a pay rise.
The first thing I’d done that morning was check my own house for damage. The four-bedroom, two-bathroom, ranch-style had been my home for a few years. It was just that: a home. It kept me cool in the summer and warm in the winter, but I couldn’t shake the fact that something was missing from it.
One of the bedrooms had been converted to a guest space, and the other into my home office, where I spent most of my time. The master, though quite extravagant, was for nothing more than sleeping between shifts. Well, it was intended that way. I fell asleep at my desk more often than not.
After building my own company up in Lexington, I’d moved to Georgia and brought it with me.
A branch of Davis Construction still operated there, but I managed it remotely.
When Jesse moved, I was happy to follow.
Though the three of us were headed home for the holidays soon, and I couldn’t wait.
It would be the first time in a while that Peyton would get to go.
I spun away from the window, but the view out of my office door wasn’t much more relaxing.
My door sat open, giving me a view of the closed one across the hallway—the one that stayed closed unless I had a reason to go inside.
Up until that morning, I hadn’t opened it in months. The sight of it seemed to taunt me.
Beyond that locked bedroom was a custom-built nursery.
I’d done it all myself, from laying the fluffy white carpet that padded the floors to painting the tiny pastel stars on the icy blue walls.
I’d spent weeks building the bed and changing table, even searching far and wide for a rocking chair that would fit my massive form and accommodate someone in my lap.
But I hadn’t had a Little to fill that space in a long time. Outside of my hectic work schedule getting in the way, my needs were very… specific. Not a lot of them liked the rules I put in place.
I stared at the door longingly. Maybe another look wouldn’t hurt…
But then my phone rang.
My first instinct was to groan, until I saw that it was Jesse. I swiped to answer and brought the phone to my ear. “H—”
“Please tell me your house is intact and you don’t have anything important to do right now.”
Technically I did have things to do, but I couldn’t stress enough how much I didn’t want to do any of them. Besides, Jesse’s voice was enough for me to drop the King himself if he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you get to Peyton’s?”
“What happened?” I was already out of my seat and lacing up my old work boots.
“I couldn’t get much out of them,” he sighed. “They were pretty upset, but something about a tree?”
Even if Jesse didn’t live at the bottom of a hill, I wouldn’t be arguing.
I’d do anything for those McKauleys… especially Peyton.
Grabbing my keys, I slipped into my Carhartt jacket and stepped onto the porch, remote-starting my truck to get the heat going.
“I’m on my way.” I threw open my front door…
And smashed right into a Peyton-sized shape on my front porch. They collapsed onto my chest in body-shaking sobs, clinging to me for dear life. The Daddy in me kicked in instantly.
“Shh,” I soothed, guiding them inside. “It’s okay, baby. Get inside; it’s freezing.”
Snow was coming down steadily, and the bitter wind rendered my covered porch useless.
Peyton cried, dropping their bag to the floor and wrapping their arms tight around my middle.
We stood there in the entryway, my hands combing through their snow-dampened hair and rubbing their back in an attempt to soothe them.
They sobbed until I was certain they were about to be sick, and I was prepared for the worst. With one final choke-slash-sob-slash-cough, they inhaled a deep breath, and took a step away from me. “I’m sorry,” they whispered.
“Don’t be; look at me.” They did, and my thumbs made a pathetic attempt at cleaning them up. Makeup ran down their pink cheeks in black rivers. Their eyes, red and irritated, still watered. “Come on. Let’s get you changed and I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
After making them kick out of their shoes, I removed their wet socks and led them by the hand into my ensuite bathroom, which was big enough for both of us to be comfortable.
Peyton didn’t argue when I pointed to the closed toilet seat and ordered them to sit.
Once they were settled, I removed the pack of makeup wipes from beneath my sink—they were notorious for falling asleep without washing their face.
As I pulled one from the pack and offered it to them, I found them watching me with watery eyes. “You don’t wear makeup,” they blubbered. I guess they’d been too sick before to register what they were.
“But you do.” They accepted the wipe and scrubbed at their cheeks. “Now what happened?”
“A tree branch decided to visit for Christmas.” Peyton sniffled and wiped at their nose, wincing when they caught the hoop through their septum. “Now it’s snowing in my living room.”
I paused to recruit someone to tarp Peyton’s house. I texted him Peyton’s address, and promised to pay him double if he could get it covered before the weather got any worse. “Are you hurt?” I asked them, pocketing my phone again.
“Not from the tree, but I twisted my ankle as I was packing.”
With their foot in my hand, I tested the joint. Peyton grimaced, but didn’t cry out our pull away, so I felt it was safe to assume it was nothing more than irritated. “Once you’re warmed up, I’ll give you some ice for it. Did you bring clothes with you?”
They nodded. “In my bag.”
“Okay, now that the important stuff is out of the way: What the hell were you doing driving in this weather?” Color bloomed over Peyton’s cheeks.
It was the “Daddy” voice. I didn’t do it on purpose.
It just happened—especially when Peyton was being a little shit…
which happened a lot. “Even I wouldn’t have made that drive and I can drive in the snow blindfolded. ”
Forget the fact that I was going to do just that in order to get to them.
“I wouldn’t recommend that, it’s dangerous.”
“Peyton…”
Their adorable mouth twitched before they sobered. “I just needed to get out. I couldn’t wait any longer for someone to get to me and with Jesse snowed in…”
They hiccuped, and I dropped the subject. They had made it here safely, after all, and I wasn’t going to let them out of my sight until the snow melted. “Let me get your clothes.”
Once Peyton said I could enter, I set the bag on the counter. Without moving from their spot, they tugged a lounge set free—and the entire bag tumbled to the floor. Peyton flinched at the noise. “It’s okay,” I told them. “I’ve got it.”
Though when I grabbed the bag to set it upright, something small and blue fell out of the side pocket—their pacifier. I looked from Peyton, to the soother and back again. The flush on their cheeks deepened. “That’s the main reason I came to you instead of Jesse.”
I picked it up, and my heart raced. “Why, Peyton?”
“I need a Daddy.”