Chapter 9 LEO
There was an ease to being around Daddy Henry now.
The sexual tension was still there, but less so because we’d already done the deed, and it was like my body had levitated, spun around, and exploded with the power of a thousand tiny stars.
He took care of all my body’s needs, touching me in the right way, assuring me with the right words, and then teasing me just so that I was already edged to the max.
After sharing a shower together and Daddy’s chest hair being the perfect place to rub my back, we got dried, dressed, and were ready with maybe two minutes to spare before the timer was set to go off for the baked mac and cheese.
Freeballing in some skimpy shorts and a tank top, I had to keep checking myself in case my balls were out. They weren’t, but that might’ve had more to do with the post-come shrinkage that had happened.
That night, we ate our mac and cheese with an episode of Murder, She Wrote on the old television.
It really took me back to a time when I’d be with my grandparents and they’d have that grain on the TV screen, and sometimes you had to give the side of it a gentle whack because the picture would lose color or have static lines running through it.
We finished supper with s’mores. We made them together in the kitchen, creating so many of them to take back up to the living room for the end of the episode and finding out who Jessica Fletcher was about to uncover as the killer.
It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.
There was a smile permanently fixed to my face, thinking about how I’d been thinking about Henry since I met him, only for him to have been thinking about me too.
I think I’d grown into the idea that the perfect guy for me wasn’t out there.
And maybe my brain shouldn’t have been throwing around the word perfect, because it knew better, but that’s what he felt like to me. Perfect.
There were things that needed to be changed, but for right now I could live with his sloping bed. It was like being permanently embraced whenever we were in it together, and so far, we’d been in it twice. The second time, though, was purely for sleep.
Spending the night at his place was nice, although I missed my hoard of teddies. I’d brought one with me, but he was only a fraction of the squeezable comfort I usually got. I suppose being hugged by a fur-chested man made up for the lack of teddies.
The morning after, I didn’t even feel him leave the bed.
He woke me with a mocha and a kiss on the forehead, telling me he was making fresh toast but there was no rush for me to wake up.
It was early. The only work I had today was event management for the end of summer, and that was mostly taking care of itself.
“I’m gonna get up,” I mumbled in a sleepy voice. “Your bed is so comfy, though.”
“Then I’ll take this drink and set it on the table for you.
Wouldn’t want you to spill it on your adorable self,” he said as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes so I could see him clearly.
His hairy chest was like a comfort blanket, and I wanted to reach out for it like a baby for their comforter, but he was away taking the sweet chocolate scents with him.
I made it out of bed and saw the steam rise from the large cup on the table. There was whipped cream and red, white, and blue sprinkles on top. I went in, getting a whipped cream mustache and nearly scalding my tongue from the liquid beneath. “Mhmm, I guess that’ll wake me up.”
Seeing all the boxes lying around made me antsy.
I had a bit of a blind-box Sublime teddy obsession, and the urge to unbox was strong.
I knew better now, though, since some of this stuff was what he’d inherited.
It didn’t stop me from taking my mocha and sitting in front of the television, picking out another Murder, She Wrote to watch.
Daddy came up into the living room with two large plates. “Oh, good, I was going to suggest a little TV,” he said. “You want to sit on the sofa with a cushion on your lap? The bottom is a little warm.”
Standing, I looked at the french toast on the plates, with more whipped cream, syrup, and a bunch of chopped fruits. “You’re serious about getting me to eat my fruits,” I said with a giggle, following his orders and taking a seat on the somewhat scratchy sofa.
“I’ve got to make sure your insides are taken care of,” he said with a big smile.
He stuck a random episode on before sitting beside me.
I loved being in his company, however that may have presented itself, be it tucked in his arms, or in the same room. There was a warm tether to him that I didn’t want to let go of, a belt of reassurance.
“You have work today?” he asked, just as I’d filled my mouth with food. Most of it was whipped cream that loved to get itself all over my face.
I shook my head, and he nodded.
“A very straightforward answer,” he laughed.
“I have my planning stuff, will probably go to the community center and check emails, then—” I shrugged. “Probably do a lap around town, get my steps in, and check in on businesses.”
“Good, good.”
“Good as in you want me to be at work?” I asked, pouting and batting my lashes.
“No, just good,” he said, placing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a one-armed hug.
“Like I’m glad you’ve got things going on.
I was going to ask if you’d help me otherwise.
I open a week today, and I’ve got the air con unit arriving and being installed this morning.
I’m thinking of pulling the newspapers down and putting dated banners up. ”
I nodded, trying not to smile so much. “I can absolutely help you,” I told him. “And I know somewhere that does banners.”
“Yeah, there’s a couple of online—”
“In town,” I said, quickly hushing because it was rude to interrupt him like that.
“Okay,” he said. “Well, tell me. I was just gonna get some printer paper, write out the letters . . . the plan was to buy an open for business banner, though.”
“There’s a haberdashery, or whatever the fabric place is called,” I said. “They do all the bunting and banner stuff for us. It’s all embroidered, and you get to pick the color of the banner and the thread. It’s not even that expensive either.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” he said. “And I’m obviously very grateful that you don’t have a lot on today, because I also thought we could spend some time creating something together.”
“Like a dessert?” I asked. “Because you know, I thought those s’mores last night perfectly represented us.
I’m the marshmallow because I’m sticky.” I was unable to keep myself from laughing.
It wasn’t my fault I liked to make a mess, and those messes were usually sticky.
“And you’re the melted chocolate, all warm and squished up against me. ”
“And what are the graham crackers?”
“Well, that’s like our bodies, going together.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Adorable, that’s what you are.”
“Thanks, I try.”
I wanted to help Daddy as much as possible with the bakery, even if it was selfishly because I needed him to stick around, and because I loved a good dessert, and I was very happy being his little taster.
After breakfast, we had a bit of a lazy moment on the sofa, finishing the episode of Murder, She Wrote, and then asking questions about what either one of us would do if there was a crime in town.
Personally, I told him I’d be front and center of the operation, and he told me that was exactly how he pictured me, standing at the sidelines as the policer officers taped off an area.
But he said I was so cute that I’d probably be able to sneak through it.
And he wasn’t lying, I would, plus I was friends with Oliver, and I knew I could get a secret or two out of him.
I wanted to tell everyone about Henry, my Daddy Henry. I told Oliver, because like he could tell me secrets, I was spilling mine to him. We had a group chat that was mostly for unboxing blind boxes of teddies, but it hadn’t been active in a while.
I also didn’t want to jinx this early stage thing I had.
I knew at any moment this could end. It was so new, we weren’t labeling it, and we definitely weren’t committing our lives to each other.
Slow and steady, although the little in me was ready for a ring—even just a ring pop and a lifetime commitment, but that was the little side.
That part of me was always thinking about a fairy-tale ending.
We spent the rest of the early morning together, unboxing some more of his things as I was desperate to get some order in his place.
So we did that together before heading down to the kitchen for lunch where there was leftover soup, which we finished off.
It felt like a snapshot into our life together, although it probably didn’t account for the busy days I knew were coming.
The days when the bakery would be open and he’d be swamped with customers and orders.
“Are you hiring?” I asked as we cleaned lunch away.
“I think you’ve got a lot on already,” he said.
“No, not me. I meant, in general. You’re going to be busy. You should hire someone.”
He nodded. “It’s on the cards. I’m going to see how it goes before I do that. Bake in the morning, open, sell, and make sure people know there won’t be a whole lot served, but I will be taking on custom work too.”
I didn’t have the first clue about running a business, so I just nodded. “And obviously, if you need a hand when I’m not working, I hope I’ll be around.”
“I would never even ask that of you,” he said. “You know, working together might put a bit too much pressure on things. And a good Daddy doesn’t want to see his little one stressed. In fact, if you are ever feeling stressed, let me know and I’ll make it all go away.”
That seemed unlikely, since he couldn’t just command work stop giving me tasks, but the sentiment made me feel fuzzy. “How?” I was too intrigued not to ask.
“Well, if you really want to know, I can tell you.”
“Yes, I wanna know.”
He turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “First, I’d warm up some coconut oil, and then I’d go ahead and have you lie down while I painted pictures on your back, making sure to turn it into a massage.”
My body shivered with excitement at the idea that his hands would be all over me. “Oh no, I think I’m stressed now.”
“Top off, go upstairs, lie down, and I’ll be right up.”
“I’m only kidding. I should probably change, though, if I’m going into the community center.”
Daddy tilted his head. “Yeah, not sure how they’d react to the crop top with twink written on it.”
I snorted hard. “The last time I wore this out, I had one of the older women stop and ask me what a twink was,” I told him. “She thought it was some type of Christmas light. And maybe she was right, because I definitely do twinkle. Right?”
“Oh, absolutely you do.” His hand at my waist, he pulled me in close to his chest and gave me a kiss. “Best clean your mouth as well. There’s just something about your lips that soup loves to stain.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good boy. And maybe after you’ve done your work, you can show me this fabric shop and we can get a banner made,” he said. “You know anything about flyers?”
I pretended to flick hair I didn’t have back over my shoulder. “I’ve been helping prepare this town for events, of course I know about flyers. And I’m also good at Photoshop. Or if you want cuter ones, I’ve got like a hundred crayons I could make posters with.”
“That’s sweet,” he said. “But I’ve already got some made up on a thumb drive. I’ll take you up on the hand-drawn poster, though. Something to stick in the window. One of a kind for Daddy.”
And just like that, he was taking care of my little side better than I imagined anyone ever would. Now, I had one poster to make, and too many ideas swimming around about it. There was no rush.