Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

BARRETT

"Why the hell did we agree to help you?" Gabe asked from his spot on the floor where he was in charge of putting together the adult-sized crib.

"You're a fucking architect. How hard can it be?" It damn sure wasn't as hard as designing buildings. "Is it the wrench? Do you know not know how to use it. I‘m sure Reed or I can demonstrate."

"I know how to use an Alden wrench, asshole."

"But do you though?" I asked. "Because that's an Allen wrench, and it's the wrong size."

"Just because my dad didn't teach me how to use a wrench doesn't mean I'm useless. He taught me other things, thank you."

"Oh yeah," Reed interjected, "like what?"

"Like how to make small talk in a room full of people I would rather not talk to, and that's been a helluva a lot more useful."

Well, fuck, fair point. I handed him the proper size, and he started making some progress on the crib .

There'd been no question that Owen's new nursery would be in my original lair. It would be close enough for him to use it any time he wanted and not feel separated from the bedroom.

On Wednesday, I bribed one of Quinn's crew—with his blessing—to put up panel molding after she got off work so it would be ready for the painters. Thursday morning, the wallpaper company installed the paper so the painters could come in on Friday and do their thing.

The furniture delivery was delayed until first thing on Saturday. Gabe skipped out on an early meeting in his office, and his assistant blew up his phone in retaliation. Reed worked an overnight shift and showed up with a scruffy beard and a cup of coffee. He claimed doctors learned how to exist on no sleep in residency and never lost it.

Overall, the room had come together quicker and easier than I'd anticipated.

Since I'd had time yesterday, I'd pulled all the items I'd collected and stashed from his design board, the ones I could figure out anyway, and brought them up to the room. I wouldn't be completely finished, but I wanted to get as much done as possible before Owen got home.

The original plan had been to leave the lodge by noon, and with traffic, it would be close to three but more likely three and a half hours to get home. It left enough time for him to nap and relax before the Halloween party.

I was a little surprised he hadn't texted me other than his quick good morning when he first got up, and he hadn't responded to any of the texts I'd sent either. The weather was clear, but the reception could still be spotty in the mountains.

Between the three of us Daddies, we finished the nursery around noon. That left me a few hours to make the bed, put away clothes, and generally make it perfect. Elizabeth kept me company, but she also kept running up and down the stairs to the front door. The security monitor pinged around four, and we both raced downstairs to greet Owen. I threw open the door, and he was walking up the steps.

"Hey, babe, I'll get your suitcase."

"Thank you, but you don't need to do that." Owen moved toward the door but brushed past me. My attempt to hug him was rebuffed.

What the fuck is going on?

"I don't mind getting it. Uh, babe, is something going on 'cause it sure seems like something is something going on."

I'd followed Owen up the front steps onto the porch and over to the sitting area on the far side. Elizabeth came out the open front door and leaped into his arms. She angled herself so her front arms encircled his neck and he supported her haunches. Her purrs were loud enough to be heard down the street. She rubbed her head along his jaw and clutched him close. I didn't want to interrupt when it was apparent he felt some kind of way about something he wasn't ready to share with me.

I could wait.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth curled up on his lap for a nap. She purred in her sleep at his continued ministrations. He traced along the shell of her ears and her spine. It was obvious he needed to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what could have happened at a weekend retreat when, up until this moment, everything seemed fine. We'd spoken a few times each day, and I'd sent multiple cat videos. I was at a loss.

"Why did you rig the auction?"

"Because I wanted to win."

"Well, that's succinct, I guess. Did it occur to you I'd be upset about that?"

Owen didn't look directly at me but focused on some spot along the tree line. His question made me pause for a minute. Had it occurred to me that he'd be upset?

"No, not really. I was so focused on winning that I didn't think you'd care how I won it. But when Kim found out, she said it was a dumb plan and I should stop wasting time and just talk to you."

At Owen's arched brow, I knew there was no chance in hell he wouldn't tell her she'd been spot-on.

"We'd been at an impasse for so long that I needed to do something to move the needle. It seemed like a reasonable way to do it. In my mind, it wasn't manipulation so much as ensuring I'd have the chance to prove what I needed to prove."

"How is that different from manipulation?"

"Sitting here? It does seem like it could be interpreted that way, but I didn't think about it like that before."

"I don't like it. It sounds dumb, but I was so proud that I helped raise that much money, but it wasn't me at all. It was a guy with money who could spend it trying to get his way. That's nothing for me to be proud of. I mean, I figured you bid high, but triple? That's overkill."

Fuck.

"How I picked that number isn't important."

Owen might be pissed at me, but I wouldn't throw the boys under the bus to save my own ass. I might have been a dick for doing it, but I wasn't an asshole.

"Even before my donation, your offer was the highest and had the most bids. That part was one hundred percent true."

"Well, that's nice, I guess." Owen sighed but finally looked at me. "I dislike feeling like I'm being manipulated, and I especially dislike people going behind my back to get what they want. And I know Rory and Jakob named the number."

Well, hell. I might seriously regret the fucking surprise waiting for him upstairs .

"Yeah, but I didn't want to throw them under the bus since I'm the one who put the money down. And while we're on the subject of honesty versus manipulation, I had an ulterior motive to having you check out the lodge this weekend."

Owen studied me with those golden eyes of his, making me concerned I was close to being his prey if I didn't step carefully.

"What's that?"

He stilled his hand from petting Bitty, and she jerked her head up and glared at me. Yes, Bitty, I know it's my fault he stopped. Sorry about that. She settled back down when his strokes resumed.

"A while back, even before the auction, I found your dream board in the office cabinet." I held up my hand when he started to speak. "It wasn't intentional. I was looking for some costing sheets for the Quill renovation and found it."

Owen nodded and let me continue. "So, yeah, I found them, and I thought they were beautiful. I wanted to do something that would be your very own here."

"Why?"

"So you'd know I'd always be your home."

Owen took a steadying breath before he gathered Elizabeth in the crook of one arm and stood. Even with the weight she'd put on, she was still a tiny thing. I wasn't expecting him to stop next to me and reach out his hand, but I sure as hell wasn't turning him down. I clasped his hand in mine, and we walked into the house.

My heart pounded as we climbed the stairs and approached the primary bedroom. He gave me a quizzical look but kept his questions to himself. I pushed open the door and led him to the bookcase that hid the secret room.

"If I did it wrong or it's not for you, say the word, and it's gone." I let go of his hand and gestured for him to pull the secret lever that released the bookcase entrance to the room .

When Owen stepped inside, it was hard not to prompt or prod him for a response. He gasped, but that had the potential to go either way. He raised his free hand to his mouth and slowly turned in a circle to take it all in. Oh shit. He didn't say anything, even after making a few turns around the room. He must hate it.

"It's…it's…oh fuck, Bear, it's wonderful." A wave of relief crashed over me. Somewhere around three a.m., it had occurred to me that surprising a designer with a design they had not personally and completely signed off on may have been a less than bright move on my part. Still, wonderful as a description had to mean good things.

Owen wandered around the room, looking at the changes we had made. The walls had been repainted the darkest green, which highlighted the vintage-style wallpaper. Original pieces of art were in the wall panels installed by the carpenter.

Lucky for me, the artist was local, which had made my life infinitely easier. A few of the pieces had already been sold by the time I tracked them down, but the artist made substitution recommendations that I hoped Owen would like. The crib was hand-turned black walnut and adult-sized. The tufted leather rocking chair had more than enough room for two. The play area was the faux fur rug with baskets tucked away in benches made of the same wood as the crib. The chest of drawers was handmade and decorated with vintage paper that the artist painted and gilded. Owen always put his client first, but this was a room totally and completely for himself.

"How on earth did you get this done in a weekend?"

"I found the designs a while back and started planning it. It's been in the works for months. Years, if you include the time I thought about doing something like this but never actually did it. With the month ending, I needed to lay it all out or walk away. "

"So this is you laying it out?"

"This is me laying it out."

"I'm not totally happy with the way you did this." Owen's fingers trailed over the crib railing and reached down to touch the duvet covering the mattress.

"You mean how I put the room together?"

"Oh my God, no. The nursery is exactly like I'd imagined it. The part I don't like is the manipulation behind the scenes. It reminds me of the worries I had when we first met. Rich guy love bombs and then walks away, and I'm left reeling and wondering what I did wrong."

"This isn't love bombing. This is making a place for you in my home because I want you here permanently. Being with you every day and being your Da is what makes me happy. There's never been anyone who makes me feel good about myself like I do with you. I want to be more for you. You're my person. If I'm not that person for you, I'll accept it, but it doesn't change anything on my end."

I'd barely finished my monologue before Owen launched himself at me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and legs around my waist. I grunted at the unexpected weight, staggering back against the doorjamb.

I put my hands on his ass and lifted him higher for a better grip. Owen peppered my face with kisses, but when he finally planted one on my lips, I immediately parted them so his sweet tongue could plunge into my mouth.

All the worry and dread that had constricted my chest loosened. I had an armful of a boy who didn't hate me and, judging by his plumped cock, might even like me a little. Owen drew back and gulped in air, but I missed his taste and followed him for another quick kiss.

"Bear, no one has ever done anything close to this for me." He stopped to give me a few more firm kisses before adding, "I still don't love the auction thing, but I know you were just trying to… Actually, I don't know what you were trying to do."

"Babe, do you seriously think I'm going to let the guy I've been in love with casually auction himself off on a date with someone else?"

"Cheating to win isn't winning," Owen said primly, which was quite a feat considering his current perch was being wrapped around my body and grinding his semi against my stomach. "But I'm gonna need you to promise no more grand gestures that involve conspiring behind my back."

"Done."

Owen wiggled out of my arms until his feet were back on the floor. Once steadied, he took my hand and led me to the center of the room, where he dropped to his knees on the shaggy rug. Without a word, he undid the row of buttons on my fly while keeping his raised eyes glued to mine.

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"Sucking your dick."

I carded my fingers through Owen's hair, and he moved his head a bit to create more friction with my fingers. Still silent, he reached inside and pulled my already hard cock out. It wasn't a second before he fell on my dick, and I was fucking gone.

Owen skipped all the teasing and edging and swallowed me in one motion. With one hand, he grasped my thigh, and with his other, he rolled my heavy balls in his goddamn magical fingers.

I threw back my head with a guttural moan. When I looked down again, Owen's eyes were still trained on me. My hips worked a steady pace into his mouth while his tongue swirled around my cock. He was a slobbery mess, and I loved to see it.

"Baby, get your cock out and get naked. I wanna see you."

While he did what I asked, I stepped away from him long enough to shed the rest of my clothes. Fuck, he was beautiful. His body was soft in the places mine wasn't, with a smattering of dark hair that covered his arms and legs. His honey-gold eyes made me forget my own damned name.

I dropped to my knees in front of Owen and slipped the head of his dark-red cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue over the glans to pick up all the sticky drops that accumulated there. Owen's hands rested on my shoulders, and he made the tiniest protest noises. I immediately pulled off.

"You okay?"

Owen looked vexed. If I didn't know better, I might have expected him to stamp his foot.

"I was supposed to be the one sucking you off, but now you're doing it and I'm not."

I fucking loved that pouty tone I so rarely got to hear from him. It was freaking adorable.

"I gotchu, babe."

With a quick maneuver, I leaned back and took Owen with me until he was sitting aside my broad chest.

"Flip around, and I'm all yours."

Owen's delightfully wicked grin triggered my own before he repositioned himself over me. With his legs on either side of my head, I pulled his cock back into my mouth and began to suck. Owen gasped and then swallowed my cock. Neither of us was capable of talking beyond that point. Owen swirled his tongue around me, mimicking my movements.

We bucked and ground against each other in a desperate attempt to find release. Owen's movements became more erratic as he inched closer to the edge. My hands gripped his thighs as I furiously worked to help him over the cliff. When his body finally stiffened, I was rewarded with a splash of cum on my tongue, followed by pulsing ropes down my throat .

With only two more strokes, my release spilled down Owen's throat. My body trembled and stars burst behind my eyes.

"Bear?"

"Yeah, babe?" I croaked out.

"Thank you for my room."