“Okay, then let’s go, and then you can go back to sleep.”
“I do it myself, Daddy.”
“Then I’ll let you do it.”
I pushed myself off the couch and went down the hallway to take care of my business. When I returned, Daddy was in the kitchen doing whatever it was that he was doing. While I was gone, he’d put onGoldie & Bearfor me. I settled back down with Baby in my arms and watched him cook in my kitchen for the second time.
I was too miserable to even watch my show. My eyes were so gritty that it felt like sandpaper dragging across them. My throat was on fire, which was still somehow better than the sledgehammer pounding in my skull…or the thumbscrew working over my sinuses. The only joy left in my life was watching the smoking-hot man in my kitchen. The light caught his dark hair, and some of the strands were a deep, fiery red. His tan skin glowed against the white cupboards. With his T-shirt tight across his chest, my mind wandered back to how damn good he’d made me feel the last time he was in my kitchen. God knew I didn’t want that today, but I still wanted him to want it.
Every once in a while, Daddy glanced up from his chopping in the kitchen. Whatever broth was simmering on the stove smelled spicy even from across the room. If his plan worked and made me feel better, there was nothing I wouldn’t give this man. If he needed a kidney or his bathroom cleaned, I was his guy. If he wanted…uhhh…other stuff, I’d be down for that too. If I could make sex jokes, surely that meant death was no longer hanging over my head.
After an episode, Daddy left the kitchen with an extra-large coffee mug. The steam rolled off it like fog off the ocean. This must have been what he was cooking because the spicy scent wafted off it.
“What’s that?” I eyed it suspiciously as he approached.
“This, my suspicious boy, is a surefire remedy for allergies.” He set the mug down, and I peered into it like I was reading tea leaves. “It’s hot and sour soup, emphasis on the hot.”
I moved close and inhaled the pungent steam.
OH. HOLY. COW.
“Is this safe to eat?”
“Let it cool down a little more before you try, so you don’t burn your tongue. Oh, shoot, I forgot.” Daddy jumped up but returned with a bottle of sweet-and-sour sauce. “Try adding some of this. It takes the edge off but not too much.”
After the steam let up, I took my first tentative sip. Whoa. The broth hit my tongue like a… I don’t know what. But it was strong, with a combination of bean sprouts, green onions, egg strings…ribbons…something like that, fresh sliced mushrooms, and what I suspected was leftover steak from last night’s dinner.
When the horseradish and sriracha hit the back of my throat, it was like the skies parted and the fog covering my brain was washed away. I downed that soup like I hadn’t eaten in a week, and I didn’t care that my eyes watered or my nose dripped. Daddy didn’t say a single word. He handed me a paper towel so I could mop up whatever grossness was happening.
After I finished one serving, and then another, my head was miraculously clear. I could kiss this man, but I wasn’t entirely sure if he still wanted my kisses. And that was a bummer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hank
Something was holding Jasper back from me this afternoon. It went beyond just not feeling well from the pollen explosion that had happened over the last couple of days. It was way deeper than that, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what it was.
With the new herd coming in, I’d immediately jumped into cataloging, getting the vet out here for health checks, processing paperwork, and doing all of the things I was used to doing. The part I hadn’t taken the time for? Texting Jasper, even if it was just to give him a heads-up that I’d be out of commission for a couple of days.
I didn’t know shit about being a Daddy, but I was pretty goddamn sure ghosting someone was not the way to go. Especially if that someone was already feeling vulnerable about this giant change in their life that they had orchestrated. The guy had moved across the country with what amounted to a dream and a hope that the house was as good as had been promised.
It wasn’t that goddamn hard to pick up a phone, and I had completely fucked it up. Jasper hadn’t said anything, but I could feel it—in the way he watched me, the way he held himself back. He wasn’t sure where he stood with me, and that was entirely my fault. I’d said I wanted to be his Daddy the other day, but when I said it, I hadn’t really taken in all the things that went along with the commitment. I’d blown it on my first big test, and now I was going to have to eat the crow I deserved. If I asked nicely, Jasper would probably bake that crow into a pie, which would be delicious…but still.
The problem was, every time I thought about calling him, something else had happened—a phone call, an animal that needed tagging, Mac needing to go to the vet because he’d been kicked—and I’d shove it to the back burner. By the time I’d gotten home, or finally had the time, I’d been too goddamn tired to even pick up the phone. But Jasper didn’t know any of that. All he knew was: we’d had sex, I’d taken him out in public, held his hand…and then I fucking ghosted him. If I had to take a wild guess, the only reason he hadn’t thrown something at my head was because he felt too damn sick to do it.
He was gonna make me grovel, and I didn’t blame him one damn bit.
“Are you feeling better? How’s your head?” I asked. After a second helping, he seemed perkier than before. He hadn’t immediately collapsed back onto the cushions, so I figured that was a good sign.
“I have no idea what you put in there, but yeah—it’s gone completely. My tongue is numb, but I didn’t need it anyway.”
“No? I can think of a few uses.” Oh shit.Shut the fuck up, Hank.
Jasper didn’t take the bait. His laugh was weak, and he clutched his stuffed puppy a little tighter.
Let the groveling begin.
“When you’re feeling better, I was hoping to talk to you about something.”
