He took a breath, then another, clearly working up the courage. “Yesterday, when we were talking… you said communication was key. That we both wanted something, and we needed to talk about it.”
“I remember.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that. About what I want.” He paused, biting his lip. “About what I need.”
My heart rate kicked up. This was it—the moment when he either trusted me enough to be vulnerable or pulled away completely.
“I’m listening,” I said gently, keeping my voice calm even though everything in me wanted to pull him close and promise him the world.
“I know I’m a mess right now,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “And I know I came here because I was burned out and lost, and maybe it’s not fair to ask for anything when I’m like this. But being here, being around everyone, being with you?—”
He stopped, his breath catching.
“It’s made me realize what’s been missing. What I’ve needed all along but kept telling myself I didn’t have time for.” His eyes met mine, vulnerable and hopeful. “I need someone to take care of me. Not just in the little ways, but… all the ways.”
The last three words came out barely above a whisper.
“Go on,” I encouraged, even though I knew exactly where this was heading. I needed to hear him say it. Needed him to claim what he wanted out loud.
“I’m a little,” he said, and I watched relief flood his features at finally saying it. “I’ve known for years, but I never… I never found anyone who understood. Who wanted that responsibility. And I started thinking maybe I didn’t deserve it, or maybe it was too much to ask, or?—”
“Tanner.” I reached out and took his hand, stopping the spiral of self-doubt before it could gain momentum. “It’s not too much. It’s never too much.”
He looked at our joined hands, then back up at me. “But how do you know? You barely even know me.”
“I know enough,” I said. “I know you work yourself to exhaustion because you care so deeply about helping people. I know you forget to eat when you’re stressed. I know you light up when someone does something kind for you because you’re not used to receiving care. I know your favorite soup is minestrone. and you take your coffee so sweet it’s barely coffee anymore.”
His mouth fell open slightly. “How do you?—”
“I notice things about you, bud. Have been noticing for a long time now.” I squeezed his hand. “And I know what you need because I’ve been wanting to give it to you since the moment you showed up here looking lost.”
“What do you mean?” But there was hope in his voice, cautious and fragile.
I took a breath, committing to the leap Harlan had talked about. “I mean I’m a Daddy, Tanner. Have been for years. Andevery instinct I have has been screaming at me to take care of you from the second I saw you standing by your car that first night.”
The silence that followed felt like an eternity. I watched emotions play across his face.
Surprise.
Hope.
Fear.
Longing.
His hand tightened around mine. “You’re a Daddy,” he repeated, like he needed to hear the words again to believe them.
“I am.”
“And you… you want to take care of me?”
“More than anything,” I admitted. “But I didn’t want to push. You came here dealing with a lot, and I didn’t want to add more pressure. I wanted to let you come to it on your own time.”
“But how did you know I’d want a Daddy?”
“I pay attention, bud. Remember what I just said about all your favorite things.” I reached up and cupped his cheek. “I know what you need, even when you don’t say it out loud.”
A shaky breath escaped him, and I watched his eyes fill with tears again. These were different from the ones in the stable. These were tears of relief, of recognition, of finally finding something he’d been searching for.
