Chapter 17

Jakob

Papa wasn’t awake yet but deserved the best breakfast because he was the world’s best Papa. It wasn’t every day a boy got to get rid of that pesky V-card and lose it…give it…didn’t matter because it was a bullshit social construct anyway, but I was glad to be rid of it. I could stop worrying about it. My life list needed an update, but that could wait until later. Breakfast was priority one.

The other day, while mindlessly scrolling through Pinterest during my lunch break, I found a glitter waffle recipe. The waffles had sparkled like tiny jewels and seemed special enough to show Papa how much I appreciated him. Now that we’d done the deed, I had even more reason to be happy with my life plan.

It was hard to leave Papa when I snuck out of his bedroom this morning. The way Papa snuffled and snored should have been annoying, and maybe on anyone else it would be, but I liked it when he did it. They weren’t loud enough to be bothersome but enough to be noticed. I kinda liked that this handsome, successful doctor with a house overlooking the Sound wasn’t completely perfect.

It made him human, and if he wasn’t perfect, then maybe it was okay that I wasn’t either. Unlike my parents, he cared about more than what my intellect could provide to the world. Heck, he hardly even asked about my work. I knew he appreciated it because some journals about it came in the mail the other day that he must have ordered right after we met. But in our house—Oh. Em. Gee. Our house—it wasn’t the most important part about me. I was the most important part about me, and I knew he liked me just fine. But I needed him to love me too. How could anyone not fall in love with him?

The trouble with having the world’s best Papa was that I’d fallen in love with him too fast. Since I had exactly zero experience falling in love, there wasn’t any experience for me to gauge an appropriate timeline, but a couple of weeks didn’t seem like a very long time. But it didn’t matter. This was exactly enough time for me, and I knew Papa was the man I would be with until we were both done here. I hoped that was a long, long time from now. It would take a solid eighty years, give or take a decade, before Papa was out of my system.

First things first, though, and that was breakfast. Papa had a mid-shift and was working twelve-hour shifts for a couple of days until Christmas Eve, and then he switched to overnights. We were both a little bummed that Christmas Eve wouldn’t be spent together, but fingers crossed, no one would need him to stay late, and Papa would be home no later than mid-morning on Christmas Day. We could celebrate for the rest of the day and all night.

I was celebrating the holidays properly for the first time in my entire memory. The plan was to open presents, watch Christmas movies, and stay in our pajamas all day. Even though it would have been wonderful to wake up together on Christmas morning, I liked that Papa volunteered to work so mommies and daddies could be with their kiddos. My judgment about him had been right. He was a nice man, and the world couldn’t have too many of those.

Ugh, if I didn’t get a move on, Papa would run out of time for him to have breakfast before work. I’d stopped at the store on the way home and picked up Glitter Mist. The bottle said it was nontoxic and had all the rainbow colors, so I knew it would be perfect.

I found the waffle iron in a cabinet and set it up on the counter. I laid out the ingredients and found the proper measuring spoons and cups. I didn’t want a disaster like my last attempt, so I triple-checked the recipe to make extra, double sure I mixed everything correctly this time. Once the ingredients were dumped and stirred, I added the glitter. With everything else, I followed the instructions perfectly. The glitter was too pretty to waste, and leaving so much in the jar seemed shameful. An extra dash, or four, wasn’t too much.

My first waffle came out black, but the glitter survived without an issue. The next ones were the proper color, and the glitter was as pretty as I’d hoped. I remembered to start the coffee, so by the time the last round of waffles was finished, it was too. I found a tray in the back of the pantry and loaded it with a pitcher of coffee, a few packets of sweetener, and a tiny container of cream. Papa ignored all his own rules about sugar when it came to a proper cup of coffee. I put waffles on a plate and then dumped the syrup over the top. Because it was supposed to be special, I found some odds and ends around the kitchen to pretty up the tray.

With steps more careful than I thought I’d ever managed, I gingerly made my way upstairs. When I reached Papa’s door, I realized I’d made the much easier decision to leave it open. Past Jakob was a smart cookie. My body demanded a happy dance, and I did my best to keep it under control—but a little booty shake never hurt anyone.

Papa lay sprawled out on the bed in the same position he’d been in when I snuck downstairs. His hair was mussed with sleep, and his cute little snuffles were barely audible. The sheet tragically covered one leg and his dangly bits. Papa must have sensed me standing in the doorway, watching him like a creeper. He cracked open one eye but quickly closed it.

“It’s too early to go to work.”

I heard the smile in his voice. My Papa was happy. And, I hoped, satisfied. “Why don’t you come back to bed, love?”

When I didn’t join him, he peeked at me again. It finally struck him that I was carrying a tray.

“Whatcha got?”

I shuffled my feet and didn’t answer.

“C’mon, love, what is it?”

He scooted up in bed, sadly still covering the better view. Suddenly, my plan felt dumb. I opened and closed my mouth like a guppy, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Love, come here.”

Papa never ordered me to do anything, but his words were firm and unmistakable. I walked to the side of the bed, dragging my feet the whole time.

“Papa, this is dumb. Just never mind.”

I stepped back, but Papa held up his hand to stop my retreat. His arched eyebrow and silent question had me rolling my eyes.

“Careful, love. You only get to go so far.”

Dammit. That made my dick take notice too. Ugh. Had I always thought stern Papa was a hot Papa? Yes. “Please show me what you have.”

With a put-upon sigh, which had Papa giving me another side eye, I said, “Part of the reason I was upset yesterday was that I’d already decided a few days ago that today I was going to make you breakfast because this month, I mean give or take a week, has been great. Like double scoop with hot fudge, extra whip, and cherries great, and I wanted to say thank you. And then I thought I went and ruined it, and then we did…uh, what we did last night…and it just occurred to me when I was in the doorway that maybe you thought I was thanking you for sex with waffles and that doesn’t seem like a fair trade except I really like waffles so I’d be happy if someone thanked me for sex with waffles, but maybe you don’t like waffles, and now it just seems really dumb. But the waffles are legit pretty, so I’ve got that going for me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

Papa held up his hands before I word-vomited every thought in my head. Ain’t nobody got time for that. “First, I love waffles. Feel free to thank me anytime with waffles. Second, you don’t need to thank me when I should be thanking you. I feel different—which means better—since you crashed into my life. And third, can I have the waffles because I’m old-ish and you wore me out.”

Papa’s last point was delivered with an infectious grin that was, well, infectious. I returned it with one of my own.

Growing up, my parents hadn’t even considered letting me get a summer job like my brothers, but in my room, I would secretly pretend to be a server. When my parents caught me, I lied and said my professors had said movement and a towel over my arm would help me study. I don’t remember how I phrased the justification, but they’d bought it. Anyway, now was the time to finally put all the pretend practice to work.

I settled the tray across his lap with a bow. “Your breakfast is served, sir.”

I ignored the heat that flared in his eyes because I was already distracted enough being this close to him. I knew he was still naked under the sheet, and I was dressed in bear pajamas I’d snagged out of my messy bedroom this morning before going downstairs. I puffed out like a prideful cub when Papa praised how pretty the tray looked with the carafe and tiny silver bowls with cream and sweetener. He said the bud vase with the snipped evergreen was perfect too.

Everything was going better than I imagined until he picked up his fork to try the waffles. His puzzled expression when he cut into them didn’t bode well.

“Is it okay, Papa?”

I bit my lip in worry as whatever good thoughts that had been rolling around in my head flew away like someone had opened a window.

“Uh, love, what kind of glitter did you use?”

“The nontoxic kind. I double-checked and asked the salesperson if it was okay for food crafting. She said it was fine because it would hold up to heat.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Papa was obviously trying to suppress a chuckle that was well on its way to being a snicker. The man snickered at me. “Nontoxic doesn’t mean edible. Food crafting and food cooking are incredibly different things.”

“Then why doesn’t the label say you can’t eat it?”

I was…aghast? My flabbers were definitely ghasted.

“It does, love. Right there on the back with the instructions. We see it in the ER all the time when parents bring it with them after their kid chows down on it.”

“Oh. My. God. Could I have killed you? I don’t want you to die!”

“The odds of death are low,”

he said and then ruined when he added, “but never zero.”

Well, piss.

“Language, please.”

“Dammit, was that out loud?”

“That was too. Tsk-tsk. I’ve warned you about the language before, haven’t I, love?”

I nodded silently. He didn’t look upset at all. Papa looked…calculating. “The next one gets you a spanking.”

The words hadn’t even left his lips when my dick, which had been behaving, stirred again. Papa’s smirk told me he saw exactly what was going on in my pants. I willed my dick to behave long enough to get through this conversation. It would be hit or miss, but I was going to try my dam—darnedest.

“Papa, is damn a swear word?”

“For you, yes.”

“And piss?”

“Yep.”

“This seems highly convenient for one of us.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Papa didn’t bother to hide his laughter now, but I kept up my facade of annoyance. He didn’t need to know that my heart rate had sped up and blood pounded through my veins, anticipating him giving me a spanking. Sure, it had been on the list, and we’d talked about it briefly, but Papa had made no move toward it. Last night was maybe the push we both needed to step forward. The Magic 8-Ball answer was Decidedly So.

“If it’s any consolation, your coffee is delicious.”

I’d been so preoccupied with the thoughts, okay daydreams, of a spanking that I’d overlooked him prepping his coffee. That little praise was enough to bring back some, but definitely not all, the pride in an attempt at breakfast. Papa took his coffee seriously, so delicious coffee was a win. “And I have a little time before I go in. Do you have anywhere you need to be this morning?”

“Nope. I figured I’d run a few errands after you left for work. Some people at work said Salish Row has a bunch of cute shops.”

“Going to drive over?”

Papa asked.

“Nah, I figured I’d walk since it won’t rain until tonight.”

Papa lifted the tray off his lap and drew me closer. He looked tousled and messy and perfect. “I’d give you a kiss, but morning breath plus coffee is gross.”

He laughed at himself, and I joined in. And then I leaned down and kissed him anyway. I slipped my tongue into his mouth because no way would a silly thing like unbrushed teeth stop me from kissing the man I wanted. His hand came up and held me steady as our kiss deepened.

Papa grounded me to earth and somehow helped me fly while I was there. It made no sense, but there it was. Last night, I’d admitted my move-in was completely orchestrated, and he’d let me top him. And now he was kissing me? It was so obvious. Papa wanted me, forced me really, to fall in love with him. Now, he was stuck with me, so he had no one to blame but himself. I was a fixture around here. He just needed to be fine with that. If he wasn’t, he shouldn’t have done what he did. This was all on him.

With that sorted, I returned to the much more pleasing part of concentrating on Papa’s tongue as it mapped my mouth. Maybe being in love made people forget the not-so-great parts of reality, like needing to brush your teeth first thing in the morning so your Papa would kiss you more? Or maybe when you were in love, that kind of thing didn’t matter? Regardless, his mouth sent my heart rate soaring to an alarming height. What a lovely way to go. Sadly, I was still alive when Papa drew back.

“Since I have some time, want to go to breakfast with me, and I’ll drop you off on my way to work?”

“Can I have waffles?”

“You can have anything you want, sweetheart.”

Papa’s eyes turned soft and sweet. The best way to get what you wanted was to ask for it.

“In that case, can I take a shower with you before we go?”

Instead of answering, Papa tossed the sheet off and jumped out of bed. He was naked! I mean, I knew he was, but I was still shocked. Before I had time to process, he let out a whoop and dragged me to the bathroom. Our laughter followed behind us like a happy trail.

#

“Thanks, Papa. I appreciate the ride.”

Papa pulled over to a side street so we wouldn’t block traffic when I climbed out of the car. The overcast skies threatened the rain forecasted for later, but fingers crossed, I’d be home before it happened. “Will I sound whiny and needy if I tell you I’ll miss you?”

“Since I was about to tell you that exact thing, I hope it doesn’t.”

Papa’s head rested on the headrest and was angled toward me. He looked ridiculously handsome in his scrubs and fleece jacket. But he looked happy too. Bone-deep happy. I did that. He didn’t look like that when we met. In that sleepwalking kind of way, he looked happy enough. But now? Bone-deep fuc-gah-effing happy. On an impulse, I leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. He chased my mouth back across and pressed a firm kiss to my lips.

“Will you do me a favor?”

Papa asked.

“Always.”

“Will you be in my bed when I get home tonight?”

Papa almost sounded unsure of himself when he asked the question. That was silly. Where else would I want to be other than his bed?

“I’ll be there, Papa. I promise.”

“Thank you, love. Have fun with your errands.”

“I will, Papa.”

With one more quick kiss, I reached over to open my door.

“One more thing…”

Papa laid his hand on my arm. “Will you please text me when you get home so I know you made it?”

His question warmed my heart. I wasn’t so naive to be unaware some would find his request controlling, but I saw it strictly for what it was from him. Papa needed to ensure I was safe. He wasn’t trying to stop me from anything. It was different and much more welcomed than the control my parents had forced upon me.

“Yes, Papa.”

When he opened his mouth, I knew exactly what he would say, so I added, “And if you don’t answer, you’re with a patient, and you will when you’re out of their room.”

Papa and I stared at each other like a pair of loons.

I liked the couple we were becoming.

“Thanks, love. All right, get out of my car before I get in trouble for being late.”

Papa grinned when he said it, but he pulled me back for another kiss when I tried to get out again. We lingered.

When I finally exited, the words on my tongue slipped out, “Love you!”

Before the horror could set in at my words, I slammed the car door shut and hurried inside the closest store.

Shit. Shit. Shit.