He turned, his smile bright.
“I think I need a doctor today.”
“Oh? Is Pup-Pup hurt?” he asked, squatting down to be at Pup-Pup’s eye level.
“No, Pup-Pup’s fine, but my heart is lonely. Do you want to play with me?”
It was the cheesiest pickup line ever and showed how little I did this. But he ruffled my hair and asked me what I wanted to play. We spent most of the time with the cars, something I had loved since childhood, but all too soon, I was yawning. And Jovan, being the daddy he was, told me it was time to call it a night.
I’d been brave once today, just like he told me I could be with Pup-Pup on my side all those years ago, and I decided to be brave again.
“Do you think maybe we could go on a date sometime?” I braced myself for rejection.
“I’d like that.”
I took the paper I had filled out for Pup-Pup and, with a crayon, wrote my number on the back. “Here.”
The lights flickered, signaling the event was fully over. I’d asked with seconds to spare. Go me.
Chapter Eight
Jovan
Doctors don’t date patients. Period.
Oh, I knew that many of my colleagues said that once they were former patients that no longer applied, but I’d always thought it still should. There was a trust there, and it could make things confusing to cross the line. All those years, more than ten, I’d wondered how he was doing, but I never thought of that teenager as more than a patient and a kid.
In that time, he’d grown up and become a man, and a very attractive one. As well as a little. Thinking back, I recognized the signs of that from our brief interactions. He’d had a certain air about him that as a doctor trying to save his life, I hadn’t had time to consider. Nor would I have at the time.
But now?
We’d spent that sweet evening in the nursery when he brought in Pup-Pup to be repaired. Turned out, he had fibbed slightly when he said Zoe didn’t hurt his stuffie. Of course, she hadn’t meant to damage him—not my gentle giant. But Pup-Pup was worn with a decade’s worth of loving and as she carried him to us, one of her teeth had pierced the fabric. It was an easy fix for our stuffie surgeon, just a couple of stitches, but it still made me feel terrible.
Ernie was so kind, never said a harsh word about Zoe, and insisted that she’d been as sweet as possible, just wanting to cuddle with Pup-Pup, once the stuffie was fine again, with Clark having checked every seam and feature and repaired as needed. Of course, he was not “as good a new” as his owner asserted, but he was definitely much better and ready to be cuddled again.
We’d exchanged numbers and begun texting back and forth, sharing our likes and dislikes, what we’d been doing all these years, general friendliness. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Then why did I feel so uneasy?
Midweek, I met up with some of the other daddies for dinner. We were going to the munch held by the club later, and the place did have food, but sometimes it was nice to sit together and with nobody who didn’t understand us or had questions or needed anything from us as part of the conversation.
Also…sure was nice to have a good meal, something I neglected with my work schedule and the exhaustion that precluded any desire to cook when I got home. I did cook for Zoe…but my girl deserved the best.
My friends were already seated in a booth at the restaurant when I arrived. Bridger, Duncan, Ocean’s daddy, Clark, and I. Two who had found their perfect little/life partner, and two who had not. Clark, polished, handsome, and with a trace of a British accent was definitely popular among the littles and probably could have taken his choice. But as he’d said many times, he hadn’t met the right person yet, and he wasn’t going to settle for less.
I just didn’t have time to even look, the few evenings a month I managed at Chained the highlight of my life, but not enough to get to know anyone.
“Hey! You made it.” Duncan held his glass of red wine up in a toast. “I ordered a bottle for the table, but if you want something else, the server should be right along.”
With the munch later, nobody would have more than a drink or two. We wanted to represent the club in the best possible light and be at our sharpest. Those who showed up to meet us would need that. A munch brought out people new in the community who wanted information about Chained, many of whom might belong to a club in their old area. But also people tentative,drawn to what Chained had to offer but unsure, maybe a little nervous. Perhaps they’d been worried that what they wanted was not “normal” or even moral.
It could be heartbreaking to hear their stories of the unkindness they had experienced in the past. And wonderful to see the smiles when they realized they could open up to the daddies and doms as well as the littles and submissives and others who came out to meet them. Without judgment. Or cruelty.
“I wasn’t sure I would make it. But I am glad I did. I wish I could make the munch every time.”
“Don’t kick yourself. We all have other obligations, and I’ve never attended one that didn’t have a good showing. So, wine?”
I picked up the glass at my place. “Wine is great.”
