I'll start subtly and intrigue him. Something to catch his attention and make him curious. Then I'll escalate, getting more specific with each note. Letting him know this isn't some generic admirer who thinks he's handsome. This is someone whounderstands.
I'll call him my silver fox. Make him feel desired in a way that celebrates his age instead of apologizing for it. Show him that the gray in his hair and the lines on his face make memoreinterested, not less.
And when the time is right, when he's already obsessed with figuring out who's been writing these little notes, I’ll bring out the big guns.
To make a Daddydesperate.
CHAPTER 3
IKE
The station smells like brown sugar and cinnamon when I walk in at 6:15 a.m.
Which means Aiden's been baking again.
I pour myself a cup of coffee in the rec room and follow the scent to the kitchen, where I find exactly what I expected: Aiden Vale, surrounded by cooling racks of cinnamon rolls, looking far too awake for this hour.
"Captain." He grins at me, holding up a plate like he's presenting evidence. "Maple pecan. New recipe. Tell me this isn't the best thing you've ever tasted."
I take the roll because refusing Aiden's baked goods is more trouble than it's worth. The man takes rejection of his baking personally. I bite into it, and damn if it isn't actually incredible—rich, gooey, and sweet…with just the right amount of crunch from the chopped pecans on top.
“It's really good, Vale,” I say, which is high praise coming from me.
Aiden beams. "I knew it. Iknewthat using brown butter was the right call. Perry said it was unnecessary, but Perry thinksflavoris unnecessary?—"
"I said the extra step added negligible improvement to the overall product," Perry's voice cuts in from behind me. He's standing in the doorway with his tablet, probably already reviewing call logs or updating one of his many spreadsheets. "The time-to-quality ratio didn't justify the additional labor."
"The time-to-quality—" Aiden sputters. "It's acinnamon roll, Perry. Not a budget report."
"Everything can be optimized."
I chuckle and shake my head. These two have been going at it since Aiden and Chevy transferred in a little over half a year ago. Perry's methodical approach to literally everything clashes spectacularly with Aiden's fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants style.
It's entertaining as hell, even if I'd never admit it.
Jasper shoulders past Perry into the kitchen, already reaching for the cooling rack. "Don't mind if I do."
"That's your third one," Perry observes.
"It's my fourth, actually." Jasper takes a huge bite, scattering pecan bits down his shirt. "And they're fucking delicious, so maybe you should try one before you optimize the joy out of everything."
Perry's eye twitches. Jasper grins with his mouth full.
I leave them to it and head toward the cubbies to check for any overnight notes or schedule changes. The morning banter fades behind me as I walk down the hall to the familiar sounds of the station waking up.
This is my life. My crew. My routine.
It's enough. Ithasto be enough.
I reach my cubby and find the usual—a memo about next week's training schedule, a reminder about the charity pancake breakfast we're hosting, and…
A red envelope.
I frown, pulling it out. It's small, maybe four by six inches, with a single word written on the front in flowing script:
Captain
No name or return address. Just that one word in black ink.
