Chapter 7
After our waters are topped off, I look at Chase, who is frowning at the back of our server. “I don’t like our server. We should ask for a different one.”
“No,” I shake my head, “they’re perfectly nice, and there’s no reason to get them in trouble with management by complaining about them.”
“I saw them check you out,” he argues, “and only what you ordered was a great choice. Then they gave you a recommendation about what to pair with your lunch, while I just got it’ll be right out.
They only look at you every time they’ve come to our table, and we’ve both only had two sips of our waters, and yet they were refilled. ”
The boy is going to give me an ego if he keeps assuming everyone wants me. “Darling, I’m afraid to inform you that they were just doing their job and not interested in me.”
“You don’t see it,” he complains, “the way people look at you.” He looks down, and I suspect he’s drawing a pattern on his thigh. “People are drawn to you and want to hear your opinions and stuff. They think you’re handsome and you just miss the way they flirt with you.”
Before I can reply, our server comes to the table with our food.
They seem to be mid 30s with long black hair and sharp features.
I watch them closely after dropping off Chase’s food while looking at me with a smile.
They then place down my food before I feel their fingers graze my shoulder.
I look at Chase, who looks more upset than angry, with his eyes locked on the server’s hand.
The server straightens, drawing my attention before they say, “I hope you enjoy your food. Was there anything else I can get you at the moment?” They don’t look at Chase, just focusing on me while they speak.
“My partner and I are good, thank you,” I say with a small nod, then watch a slight frown appear on our server’s face before they smile and walk away.
I face Chase, and he has a blinding smile as he reaches out to intertwine our fingers on the table. “Thank you, daddy.” He takes a bite of his chicken before asking, “should I call you my partner? Because I told my friends you were my daddy, so do I need to say, my daddy and partner?”
“I wouldn’t say both together because I think some people may get the wrong idea, but you can refer to me however you like.” Then, I quickly add, “but at work, you’ll need to refer to me by my name.”
He nods, “where are we going to eat lunch on Monday? You never tell me where you take your breaks.”
“I often eat at this coffee shop near the office, so I can still work,” I answer, “where do you eat?” I ask, trying not to laugh as the photo Mia showed me last week comes to mind.
It was Chase eating a chili dog over a garbage can in the street.
It was only made funnier when he came back from lunch with a large, wet stain on his shirt.
He stomps his foot, “it’s not funny,” he snaps, then grumbles, “I knew she showed you that photo. It’s the only time I ate like that.” I don’t mention that she has a photo album dedicated to Chase’s lunch spots, and one of them includes him yelling at a goose. “Daddy, it’s not funny.”
“I’m sorry, darling,” I say, “you’re right, it’s not funny. You should be able to enjoy your lunch without having photos taken of you.”
His mouth falls open. “She showed you all of them?” Before I can answer, his shoulders hunch and his eyes go to his lap. “She promised she wouldn’t.”
Squeezing his hand to get his eyes back on me, I smile softly, “Chase, it’s okay.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” he says with his eyes back on his lap before poking a piece of chicken too hard, then eating it.
“Why don’t you tell me what you normally do on the weekends?
” I ask, squeezing his hand again when he doesn’t look up.
“Chase, I just want to take a moment to say that I’m really happy that you told me about your feelings.
” His head whips up as I continue, “I underestimated you and made a snap decision about who you were without ever really giving you a chance when we first met, and for that I’m sorry. ”
He smiles softly, “thank you, daddy.”
“I mean it, Chase.” I stress, “I’m lucky that you chose me and didn’t get deterred when I wasn’t always my kindest. I’m excited to get to know you better and develop our relationship.”
He bounces in his seat, then blurts, “I love you. I’m so happy you’re my daddy, and I’m your boy.”
“I am too,” I agree, “now, what do you normally do on your weekends?”
He thinks for a second with a big smile, then begins rambling about everything he does.
I finish my meal while he talks, and occasionally takes bites of his meal until he’s also finished.
After I pay, we head to the door, and I don’t miss him turning to our server, then sticking his tongue out.
Once we’re outside and in the car, I turn to face him in disbelief.
“Chase,” I speak sternly, “did you stick out your tongue at our server?”
He shrugs, looking guilty. “They deserved it.”
Looking forward, I shake my head, then face him again. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that’s not okay.”
“You didn’t say anything when I did it to JJ,” he counters.
“Because you and JJ are friends, so that’s different, and I assumed it was a joke or lighthearted,” I reply. “You can’t stick out your tongue or be rude to strangers just because you feel like it.”
He draws a pattern on his thigh, shrugging, “I’m sorry. I didn’t like how they were with you.”
“We still need to have our talk about your jealousy and possessiveness,” I comment before his phone starts ringing.
He shows me the screen, and it’s his dad calling. “Can I answer it?”
“Of course, do you want some privacy?” I ask.
He shakes his head, grabbing my hand, then answers.
I try to tune out his conversation as best as I can by distracting myself by scrolling through my phone, but it’s hard.
Especially when he begins detailing everything we’ve done this morning and afternoon, including how the call interrupted me, giving him trouble for sticking out his tongue.
He rolls his head over to look at me, then says, “he agrees that I shouldn’t have stuck out my tongue, but says I need to make sure people know you’re mine, so they don’t feel comfortable flirting with you.”
I don’t respond because he goes back to talking to his dad about the plans we haven’t made for the rest of the day.
I’m a little worried about their relationship and how involved his dad is going to be in ours.
My parents and I are very separate people, not in a bad way, just in that I was always independent growing up, so they didn’t feel the need to parent me.
Then I was an adult, busy with school and work, and they were busy with their lives.
We still check in every so often, but I can’t imagine talking to them the way Chase talks to his dad.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear Chase say, “let me ask daddy,” before he looks at me and asks, “can we have dinner with my dad tonight?”
I nod, then he focuses back on his conversation with his dad, making dinner plans while I wonder what his dad’s reaction is to him calling me daddy so openly.
Maybe it was a slip up and his dad will just assume he meant him.
That thought makes an unpleasant feeling settle in my stomach.
I start the car, then drive home to give myself something else to focus on while he continues talking away.
He finishes his call after we’ve carried his suitcases into my house, then wraps his arms around me from behind.
“I’m so excited for you to meet my dad,” he says into my ear as he slips his hands under my shirt and onto my stomach.
“Where are we meeting him?” I ask, deciding to wait to talk to him until after I officially meet his dad. I could be worried for nothing, and it just seems odd to me because I’m not close with either of my parents.
“At the house,” he answers, then brings his hands to my belt and undoes it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking down and watching him undo my pants next.
“Daddy, it’s the rules,” he answers, “we have to be naked the second we get into the house.” Snorting, I let him push down my pants and underwear, then step out of them while he pulls off my shirt.
After he kisses my shoulder while his hands roam around my stomach and chest. “I love your body, daddy, you’re so handsome and sexy.
” He squeezes me against him. “I don’t want to take my hands off you to get undressed. ”
Shaking my head slightly, I tease, “you’re the one that brought up the rules.”
After squeezing me one more time, he lets go, then quickly undresses before pressing back against me. “Can I give you a blowjob?”
Patting his hands, “we need to unpack your things and put them right into the laundry, then get ready for dinner.”
He rubs his chin back and forth on my shoulder, “daddy, why won’t you let me?”
I tease, even though there’s some true worry to my words, “because I don’t want you to get sick of-”
He rushes in front of me, shaking his head. “I’ll never be sick of you or your taste. I love you.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into him, then kisses my lips before saying, “I love you so much.” He plants several kisses all around my face before I nudge him back.
“Thank you, darling, but we’re still unpacking and doing laundry before getting ready for dinner,” I instruct.
He steps back, tracing his fingers down my chest, then stomach with a face full of disappointment.
“Come on,” I walk towards the stairs, “I’m surprised you’re not eager to get everything in the laundry quickly, so we might have extra time to ha-”
I’m cut off by him running up the stairs towards my bedroom and yelling, “where’s the laundry room?”