Chapter 1
Chapter One
Jared
“More sugar,” I say sternly.
Benji rolls his eyes at my demand. “You’re not the head chef in this kitchen, bud. My place, my rules.”
Scoffing, I reach for the container of powdery white magic. The cookies won’t be as good if I don’t add enough of the sweet stuff. It’s a well-known rule that sweets must be sweet.
Duh.
My friend pushes the container away, then snaps the lid shut as he makes direct eye contact with me. He’s making it clear he’s not going to let me get away with what I want.
I should have known he wouldn’t. The man is a tyrant in the kitchen. While I could go home, I don’t much like the idea of being alone right now.
Since we’re in the back of Whipped, his bakery and the second love of his life following his husband Curtis, it makes sense for him to lead. Too bad I’m not really in the mood for things to make sense.
Illogical thinking is the motto of the day.
Or really, of this entire year. After coming off the hardest months of my life, the need to let loose is overwhelming. Too many hours behind a desk. Too many days of worrying about the people I consider family more than my own flesh and blood. Too many bad guys to take care of.
It’s all culminated into a relentless time I can’t seem to shake. Not even the imminent holiday season is putting me in a good mood. Some of the lack of excitement there is, is likely due to the change in plans this year.
Donny, my best friend, is now married to Grant, the man who swept him off his feet years ago. Their story is something you’d find in a storybook. Ever since I watched them fall in love, I’d wondered when my time would come.
So far it hasn’t.
I can admit to being jealous they get to be all loved up and spending the holiday with some friends they met while on a trip a few months ago. The couple they’re going with complements them well, especially due to their own Daddy/little dynamic.
While I have no desire to be with Donny or Grant, I wouldn’t mind having a Daddy of my own to take care of me. If I’d had one during the last two years, then maybe the stress from the office wouldn’t have me as worked up as I am.
“Are you going to cry?” Benji asks softly.
I blink at his words, coming back to the present. Tears cascade down my cheeks before I can so “no, of course not” to his question. With the way his eyes track them, it makes it pointless to lie.
Before I can give him any kind of reasoning behind my mood change, the back door bursts open. Curtis twirls into the room in a stylish suit and arms full of grocery bags. “I grabbed as many of the supplies on the shelves as I could. We were lucky there was anything left this time of year.”
He doesn’t seem to notice us at first. When we don’t reply, he finally turns. Looking from me to Benji, he pouts.
“Did you make him cry? Come here, precious Jared. There’s no need to fuss.” He opens his arms, which has me dropping against him in an instant.
Since the two of them reunited, I’ve become close with Curtis as well. I understand why Benji loves him, and I’m thankful I now have two close friends. It’s a bonus for them both to be excellent huggers.
I feel Benji press against my back as he sandwiches me in. The sigh I release would be embarrassing if anyone else were to see it. As it was, I feel safe because neither of them will judge me.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Between me, my delicious husband, and these sweet treats, we can surely get you sorted,” Curtis demands the minute we pull apart.
Wiping my eyes with the napkin Benji hands me, I sink onto an empty stool. “I think it’s all finally hitting me. Things at work are calm again. Donny and Grant are planning their trip. All my coworkers are partnered up. I have nothing. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
Curtis frowns. “Supposed to be is a dangerous phrase. It might not have turned out how you thought it would, however, this isn’t the end. What do you want? What do you feel like you’re missing out on?”
I want a Daddy to take care of me. I want someone to love me for who I am, quirks and all. I want to not be stressed at the office. I want to come home to find someone there happy to see me. I want… so much more than I can have.
Instead of saying all those words, I tell him, “I’m lonely.”
“Then let’s get you un-lonely. You’re not the hookup type, so I’m guessing long-term partner is the goal?”
Benji clears his throat. “Maybe we should let him tell us the exacts before you go off setting him up on dating profiles or trying to match him with someone, baby.”
“I’m only trying to help. Besides, with all the people we know, there’s bound to be an eligible bachelor in the bunch.
Maybe he’s on the edge of the circle of friends.
” He gasps, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom.
“Oh! Or maybe he’ll be new to the city. It could be a whirlwind thing like Princess Aster and Charlie had. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
“The idea is nice, but I’m not so sure how it would work for me though. Didn’t they have a whole pen pal situation?” I ask the question, though I already know the answer. Most everyone in our ever-growing circle of friends does.
My friend rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend not to know. You and I have talked about your love for it before. Plus, you told me how you wished you’d been like Donny was and asked for a Daddy for Christmas too.”
I wince at the call out. “You don’t have to remember everything, you know? It’s fine to forget the embarrassing stuff.”
Curtis snorts as he swipes chocolate icing from the bowl on the counter. His husband swats a towel in his direction, which makes the other man squeak and rush over to me as if I can somehow protect him.
Standing at only five foot five—on a good day—and without much muscle mass at all, I’m not going to be able to protect anyone. Especially not against the rugged, handsome baker standing with his arms crossed as he waits for us to fold.
And of course we do. Neither of us stands a chance against him.
When Curtis leaves his hiding spot to kiss Benji, I turn back to the cookie dough mix we’d been preparing as I think over what he said. I do wish I’d asked for a Daddy like Donny did. It never crossed my mind to do so when we wrote our annual letters to the big guy.
Maybe this year should be different. Can I do what my friend did and maybe repeat the result? Or am I too wishful in my thoughts?
The happy couple eventually pulls themselves apart long enough for us to finish baking and organizing the sample cookies for the party later this week. I attempt to help, but my mind is too focused on the idea of mailing a letter to Santa for me to be useful.
I don’t even ask for the extras to take home with me when I pack them up to leave. Benji stares at me in confusion, while Curtis tucks away a few in a bag despite my lack of asking.
“You may not be thinking of it now, but future you will thank me,” he says.
Two hours later, when I’m wrapped in the fluffiest blanket I own and watching animated Christmas movies, I’m appreciative of his forethought. The cookies are just what I need to round out the quiet night.
Jared:
Thanks for sending the cookies. They’re delicious! The party is going to be perfect with your help.
The text in our group chat is answered the way most are. Benji heart reacts. Curtis sends a million emojis and a GIF, as if the former wasn’t a big enough indicator of his emotions.
As if fate times it perfectly so, I run out of cookies as the credits begin to roll. I want to pout about it, yet I know it won’t do any good. There isn’t anyone to hear my fussing anyway.
There would be if you had a Daddy.
My inner voice taunts me, pushing at the open wound of my loneliness like the meanie it is. I shake my head as I climb from the couch to throw away my trash. As I’m passing the dining room table, I spot the stationery I’d taken out that morning to get ready to mail our annual letters.
The choice came before I knew of Donny’s changed plans. It came before Benji and Curtis called me out for choosing to stay single. It came before I realized I don’t want another holiday to go by with me alone, sad, and wishing for more.
Dropping my trash into the bin, I sit with the paper and gel pens before me. I don’t stop to think. Don’t hesitate at all. What pours out next is the truest letter I’ve ever written to Santa.
Dear Santa,
It’s me, Jared. I’m sure you already know this because you and I talk often.
Well, not often. Yearly, really. Should I write to you more? It’s a valid question, I think. I bet you feel like people don’t care about you either. It’s uncool that you get nothing until after Thanksgiving, then your inbox is flooded.
Huh.
Anyway, this year I want to steal an idea Donny had. I want to ask for a Daddy.
Now, I know it’s not the normal request. But all the normal stuff is taken care of. My boss is super into gift-giving, and his partner Chance is too. If they don’t get it, then one of my other friends will.
But I want things they can’t buy me too.
Like someone to cuddle with. Someone to guide me with my choices so I don’t have to think so much. I want a man who is strong enough to lift me up and carry me around. I want to feel delicate in his care. I want him to see me as a precious gift in his life.
I want a lot. Probably too much to keep saying. It’s not like I can even begin to make it make sense.
My point is—can you find me a Daddy too? I think you’re my best shot at this. I don’t really know where else to look.
If you make this happen, I promise to be on my best behavior for at least two years. I can’t promise anything past that.
Ok, maybe three years if he’s a reallllyyyy good Daddy.
Do we have a deal, Santa?
I know you can’t write me back. I’m still hoping the answer is yes.
Love you with all my heart (that won’t change when I get a Daddy either, just so you know).
Hopeful,
Jared
I doodle around the edge of the page with hearts, Christmas designs, and a couple of sweet treats. I’m especially proud of the cupcakes since they look the most realistic.
“Here goes nothing,” I say as I fold the page and stick it in an envelope. I only have the kind for cards. Surely Santa won’t mind, right?
Nah. The big guy is used to all manner of communication.
With everything ready to go, I place it by my keys near the door so it’s ready to go with me to the office. I’ll drop it by the mail room in the morning to make sure it gets out.
Happy with my choice, I prepare myself for bed over the next few minutes. Once I’m ready, I drop onto the couch and put on some random cartoon. The noise soothes me enough to calm the anxiety in my chest that comes each night.
Even though I know I’m safe locked inside my apartment, I can’t deny I still feel on edge thinking something bad could happen. It’s the unknown that frustrates me.
If I had a Daddy, then he’d protect me. Maybe then I’d get a full night’s sleep.