“We’ll have that tomorrow, then. Today, I’ll fix you a sandwich on wheat. Tell me what you want on it.” He runs his hand through the air to indicate the array of options.
I lean closer. There’s no way to choose. I don’t even know what some of those cheeses are. “Can you pick for me?”
“I’d be happy to. Is there anything here you don’t like, angel?”
“I will probably devour whatever you make.”
“I hope you do. You need the calories.” He winks.
I draw back a bit, feeling self-conscious. But I can’t keep anything from this man. He notices immediately, drops the package of cheese he’s holding, and rounds the island to come to me.
He cups the back of my neck with one hand and taps my temple with the other. “The most important parts of you are in here. I don’t care a bit what size you are, Eloise. I never will. I want you to be healthy, and I suspect it’s been a long time since you’ve eaten well or consumed enough. I’m not commenting on your size. I’m only interested in your health. Understood?”
I nod slowly.
“Good girl.” He bends forward and kisses my forehead. I’m starting to enjoy and even crave how often he does that. It makes me feel cherished in a way I’m starving for. And when he calls me good girl…
“I like the bows, by the way,” he says, tapping them on the top of my head before returning to the sandwiches.
I reach up and touch them as soon as he turns away. I’d forgotten about them. “I guess it was a whim when I put them on. They’re kind of babyish. I just never had bows before, so I wanted to…” My voice trails off. I sound ridiculous. Why am I trying to justify the bows? He’s the one who bought them.
Cannon glances up at me. “They’re adorable, and I think they suit you. Don’t worry about what everyone else might be doing, Eloise. If you like bows, wear bows.”
“So you’re saying if we were like regular people and went out on a date, if you came to my door to pick me up and found me wearing this outfit with bows in my hair, you wouldn’t turn and run back to your car?” I’m baiting him to make a point.
Cannon’s eyes pop wide, and he scans up and down my torso. “Would this be a first date or more like the second or third?”
I hesitate. I hadn’t expected him to ask something like that.
He continues without waiting for an answer, “Because if it was the second or third date, I would probably step into your home, cup your face, and kiss you senseless. I might be more reserved if it were the first date. Most women don’t like to be kissed before I’ve at least bought them dinner.” He’s teasing, but how much of that was a joke?
“You would go out with me dressed so…young?”
“I would go out with you dressed any way you want to dress at any body weight, Eloise. That’s what I’m saying.”
I think he’s serious.
“For the record,” he says, “What you’re wearing looks very similar to something June would wear.”
“Oh. June likes pink?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know that she has a favorite color, but June likes to feel youthful.”
I ponder his words. Interesting.
Cannon pushes a plate toward me before rounding to sit on the stool next to mine. He faces me. “I’m going to tell you a few things, and you don’t need to respond. Just ponder them while you eat.”
“Okay.” Now I’m nervous.
“One, June is what’s called Little. That means, though she’s a grown adult, she enjoys spending time in a younger headspace. It’s called age play. She calls Blade Daddy. I know that’s a lot to soak in, and you’ll have a million questions. I’ll answer them whenever you’re ready.”
I stare at him, absorbing his words. “Wait. Is that something you want, too? An adult Little girl?”
He strokes my cheek. “Ideally, yes. I always figured one day I would meet someone who longed for exactly what I crave.”
“That’s why you have a pink room filled with toys?”
“Yes. And, for the record, I suspect you will enjoy that lifestyle, but it’s not something that makes or breaks how I feel about you.”
