Well, his happiness and helping him to practice telling the models at Leashes & Lace no.
“Master!”
Well, he had been happy.
My pretty boy was halfway across the room, making a mad dash between models before I’d taken a step, but I was fast once I got started and had him swept up in my arms before anyone could react.
“I didn’t do it.”
Okay, before anyone but Emerson could react.
“It’s. I.” Upset and nearly hyperventilating as tears welled in his eyes, it took me entirely too long to realize why he was waving his hand in my face. “Help.”
He’d warned me.
Splinters were very upsetting and something else a therapist probably needed to review with him, but for the time being, I was just glad Emerson hadn’t done something unexpectedly triggering. We were still working on going over what could go wrong at a photo shoot, so I wasn’t sure what might fall into that category.
Splinters hadn’t been on my list, though.
Miming taking a deep breath, I ignored everyone else around us and kept his gaze on mine. “Breathe. I’ll fix it but you have to breathe for me.”
It took us a few moments to get air going in and out at a reasonable pace, but eventually he was doing great and wasgetting enough oxygen that I wasn’t worried about how pale he’d gone. “Good boy.”
Air in.
Air out.
Trying to take a peek at his finger that was still going back and forth at a mind-altering pace turned out to be a bad decision.
Oops.
“No. Don’t look at it.” That level of panic would not be helpful or healthy. “I’m going to play doctor with my pretty doll.”
A giggle from somewhere off to the side got a shaky laugh from Cece, so I played along and rolled my eyes. “Not that kind of playing doctor. I don’t have the right toys for that.”
Going very still, Cece barely giggled but I could see he wanted to. “That’s right. Dolls are very still and silent, even when they’ve got booboos.”
Carrying him over to an oversized chair that was positioned in the corner, I set him sideways on my lap and shifted my tone to being his Owner. Cece was trying to be a good doll and stay calm, but keeping his hand out of his line of sight was the only way that was going to work.
“Let’s see. What do I need to take care of my pretty doll?” Making an exaggerated thinking sound, I shifted his hand to the side and turned it palm up to see he really did have a good-sized splinter from what I’d thought had been a fake tree.
Maybe real trees just came in ones that looked fake too?
“I’m going to need tweezers and a pretty bandage, of course.” Still making thinking sounds, I glanced around to see several ofthe models digging through bags and one cutie who was clearly a little digging through a backpack with cartoon characters I didn’t recognize on it.
Yep, trust the little to have brightly colored bandages.
“Then I’m going to take care of my pretty doll and find a treat for him.” Snickers from the dirty minds around us had Cece almost breaking character to laugh himself, but he was fully invested in being a doll so he didn’t have to think about being tortured by the splinter. “Snuggles and a new outfit too. That’s always important.”
His chest barely jerked in silent laughter, and I knew he’d tease me about shopping later. “I might need a lab coat too. I hadn’t thought about playing doctor.”
A cutie in a short nightie was smart enough to approach us from behind Cece to pass me the tweezers, but as I looked over, a voice from the back distracted both of us.
“You guys were right. Where do I find an Owner?”
Cece was never going to be able to stay in character with a group that was so ridiculous, but he did his best as I eased what he probably thought was a large tree from his finger. His chest jerked as there were more whispers about how sexy it was that he could be carried and as subs wondered what playing doctor would look like, but he stayed mostly still as I freed the tree from his hand and the helpful little brought over a Scooby Doo Band-Aid.
“Perfect. The doctor saved the day.” When he was safe, Cece collapsed into me and suddenly everyone remembered they had a job to do. I waited until the roar of their conversations came back and we had what I was going to call privacy before I kissed his head. “How are you feeling, pretty boy? Are you okay?”
