And if there was one thing my night of soul searching had proven to me, it was that Renewasmeant to be mine.
I was pretty sure a part of me had recognized that fact from the first moment I’d seen him, just like I had twenty years ago with Blair. Now, if I was truly as lucky as I felt each time Rene consented to let me hold him in my arms, I’d be able to prove it to Rene, too.
Hopefully, sooner rather than later, because now that I’d found him, I was loath to let him go.
Other than to breakfast, of course.
“Well?” Sam demanded, looking up at me with his hands on his hips. “Are you going to try to tell me he can’t go?”
“Of course not,” I said, even though I still wasn’t sure whether or not Rene actually wanted to attend.
“Good,” Sam said, giving me a hard stare for a moment, like he was waiting for me to change my mind.
I grinned. Not going to happen.
“But it’s supposed to just be for Littles and their Daddies, right?” Rene asked, still making no move to leave the circle of my arms. “Because I’m not even sure if I really am one, and my… Daddy? Or, well, I mean, Daryl—” Rene’s shoulder practically rose up to his ears when he said the man’s name, and it was all I could do to keep from growling like a territorial beast, “—um, he never mentioned it? And he’s not even staying here at the hotel, so if everyone’s supposed to show up with their Daddy...”
“No, no, no,” Sam said, flapping a hand in the air. “It’s not like that. I don’t have a Daddy of my own, either, but that doesn’t matter. Plus, maybe you’ll find someone better? There will betonsof unattached Daddies there, and some of them aresuperyummy. And sinceDaryl—” Sam spit the name out the same way he might have said mine, almost making me smile, “—didn’t even want tohelpyou last night, the way arealDaddy would have—”
“The way Edward did,” Rene interjected quietly before Sam could work himself up any further, making the little firecracker sputter to a stop… for half a second.
“Well, yeah, but that was just, he’s not, he… Rene! Don’t go over to the dark side! YourEdward—”
I did grin this time, becausethereit was. My name pronounced like vomit-in-your-shoe, because the feisty little thing cared about Rene, which would always win points in my book.
“—you know, Evil Mr. G here?Hewas the whole reason for the problem in the first place,” Sam said indignantly. Then, glaring at me, “And healsoapparently doesn’t know how to butt out of aprivate conversation, either.”
“Well, we are in his hotel room, Sam,” Rene said, my little voice of reason.
Sam made a rude noise. “I’mnot. I’m standing out in the hall.” Then, finally addressing me directly instead of being adorably passive aggressive, he put his hands on his hips and said, “Don’t you have an Evil Corporate Minion suit to go collect from the dry cleaners or something? You can’t show up to a business meeting wearing just a towel, you know, and Bradley and Dennis are expecting you in—” he made a dramatic show of checking his bare wrist, “—ten minutes.”
“Forty-five,” I corrected him.
“Whatever,” he said, flapping a hand at me. “Can you just go do it already, put on a power suit or go cackle about profits somewhere or read a soulless spreadsheet or something, so me and Rene can enjoy our breakfast without you looming everywhere?”
“I like it when he looms,” Rene said, then instantly ducked his head, the pink on the back of his neck telling me his face must be blushing hotly as well.
I grinned. “And I definitely enjoy looming anywhere Rene happens to be.”
Rene turned in my arms, looking up at me with wide eyes. “You do?”
“I do,” I said, smoothing down some of his bedhead and then cradling his face. “I will always be available to loom for you.”
He smiled, a shy, sweet one that kept getting bigger and bigger until his eyes were glowing with it.
And Christ, I wasn’t sure how lightning could strike twice, but it had. I’d do anything to make him glow like this.
Always.
Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Oh my God,Rene. No! Just because itlookslike a Daddy doesn’t mean itisa Daddy!” He tugged on Rene’s shoulder until Rene turned around. “Even if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it might still be a… a platypus! And you don’t want a platypus in charge of your playdates, do you? They layeggs.”
My brow crinkled. “What?”
“Um, eggs?” Rene asked, sounding equally confused.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Never mind the eggs. It was just a metaphor. Or a simile? Ugh, I can never remember the difference. Mypointis, Stockholm Syndrome, okay? Mr. G has obviously roofied you. But don’t worry, sweetie, I’m here to save you now. It’s breakfast or bust.”
I would have bristled at the implication that I would ever drug Rene, druganyone, but I was too busy laughing. I’d completely lost track of what Sam’s current argument against me actually was, but he was right about one thing. My boy needed to eat.
