Happier, Matthew corrected with a wry smile. Even while apart, Damien made him smile.
“Why’s it gotta take so long for our bags to get here?” Emily pouted. She hung from his arm and swung lazily, trusting him to support her weight. “I wanna go meet your boooyfriend!”
“Me too.” Matthew tugged her close and spun her around. Emily laughed. “Tell you what. If you can be good and wait patiently with me for our bags to get here, I’ll ask Damien if he’d like to have ice cream with us.”
Emily hopped onto her own two feet and gasped. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Do you think he likes chocolate?”
“Well, I’m not sure he likes vanilla.”
Emily squealed. She waited patiently the rest of the time, the promise of ice cream too tempting to risk bad behavior.
Once they’d claimed their bags—one each—and slotted their carry-ons into place on top of them, Matthew turned away from the carousel to direct Emily toward the pickup area, but stopped short. There, leaning on the wall across the way, was Damien. He was dressed for business, including the Bluetooth piece in his ear, but had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. When Matthew looked his way, he lifted his chin in greeting. A smile shone in his eyes.
He was the most impossibly handsome man that Matthew had ever seen, and somehow, that man was his.
“Daddy?” Emily asked, seemingly aware that her father’s heart had stopped beating and his bones had all turned to goo.
“Yeah,” Matthew murmured in affirmation before he could stop himself.
His Daddy had come to take them home.
* * *
The wheels of Matthew’s luggage clacked as they crossed the tile leading from the carousel to the wall. Emily followed at his side, her hand in his. Her small pink rolling bag clacked cheerfully in time with his own.
Damien.
The excitement caged in Matthew’s chest burst through its bars. It hadn’t even been two weeks since they’d last met, but he already craved to rediscover the gentle touch of Damien’s hand and the intoxicating addiction of his lips.
There were no words when Matthew approached—Damien stepped forward, grabbed a fistful of Matthew’s shirt, and tugged him into a kiss that made Matthew lose his grip on his luggage. Emily’s hand was a different story—he held it like a lifeline, knowing that if he let her go, he might very well lose track of her. Damien was a distraction too tempting to resist.
The kiss went on until Matthew had to pull away to breathe. Sure that he had to be blushing, he took a small step back and turned his head more than necessary to spot where the handle of his luggage had gone—he didn’t want Emily to see how red he’d become.
Once he’d run out of valid excuses to keep his head turned, he checked in with Emily to make sure she was okay that a stranger had laid such public claims on her father.
She was.
After a moment spent analyzing the situation, she stuck out her hand in Damien’s direction. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Damien replied.
“I’m Emily Alice Gwynn and I’m four years old. Are you my daddy’s boyfriend?”
Damien narrowed his eyes playfully. “What if I said I wasn’t?”
“Then you’d be a liar and I’d have to chop you.” Emily puffed her cheeks and prepared her hand for a fatal chopping. Matthew laughed behind closed lips but didn’t intervene. Damien was digging his own grave—Emily had given him fair warning.
“Oh, then I’d better tell you the truth.” Damien stole a glance at Matthew, and Matthew saw in his eyes the same fun-loving, confident, cocky man he’d fallen for in Fiji. “Yes, I’m your daddy’s boyfriend. My name is Damien Bartholomew Bigg the third, but my dad only calls me that when he’s angry at me. Most of the time, people just call me Damien. My brothers and sisters call me Mimi.”
“Okay. I’m Emily.” Emily stuck her hand out farther, her fingers spread so far apart that her arm shook from the strain. “My daddy says that because I waited real nice for our bags that you’ll give us ice cream.”
Matthew covered his eyes in exasperation, then dragged his hand down his face. All things considered, it could have been worse. At least Emily wasn’t shy.
“Is that so?” Damien asked. He stole another look at Matthew, his expression full of mischief. “What else has your daddy voluntold me to do? Am I going to have to punish him?”
