Page 27 of A Stable Daddy

“Not even a turtle,” he answers with a sigh. “I’d love a dog, but it’s not on the cards for me until I retire.”

“What if you got a dog and took it with you to work and on house calls and stuff? I’ve seen vets do that.”

He tilts his head from side to side. “Thatisan option…”

“And then you’d hopefully remember to eat properly because you’ve got to take care of another living creature, too.”

Ryan stares at me for a moment, smiling widely, his tongue stretched into the corner of his lips, toying with the top row of his pearly white teeth. “You’resucha Daddy,” he eventually says, his tone bright and amused.

I kiss the tip of his nose then rub my own against it affectionately. “Guilty as charged. And, as your Daddy, I need to make sure you’re lookin’ after yourself when I’m not around.”

“I’ve been looking after myself just fine.”

“Uh huh.” I raise an eyebrow and let him go, stalking over to his kitchen —which is basically just an L-shaped counter running along the back and side wall of the living/dining space— and open his gleaming, stainless-steel fridge. The contents are just as bare as I’d imagined, and I look back at him expectantly. “Let me guess,” I drawl, “today’s your usual grocery day?”

I shut the fridge door and open the freezer section on top. A wealth of frozen microwave dinners is stacked neatly on the top shelf.

“Baby,” I sigh and pull out one that declares itself to be ‘Spaghetti Bolognese’. I crinkle my nose at the package and slide it back on top of the pile, shutting the freezer door. “Those things ain’t good for you.”

“They’re not—”

“This isn’t up for discussion, darlin’. I know you’re time poor, but your health is important to me. We’ll come up with a compromise, but you’re going to start eatin’ right.”

He bites his bottom lip, and I hold his gaze. Eventually, his lips twitch upwards into a tiny smile, and he nods. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my good boy,” I praise, loving the instant reaction it earns me. His skin flushes, and he shivers as his eyes darken with lust. Striding back over to him, I cup his jaw between my palms and kiss his lips. “Now, give me the rest of the grand tour.”

Chapter Eleven – Ryan

Icould get used to having Oscar in my house. I still have to work, but he spoils me by getting up early to make nutritious breakfasts, he packs me lunches, and there’s dinner on the table when I get home. This week, I made an effort to schedule minimal visits outside of Denham, wanting to maximise my time with my boyfriend, and it has been so worth it.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I was someone else’s priority, and I hope that Oscar can see that I’m making him mine, too. I know that right now things are new and shiny, and that we’re in that exciting ‘honeymoon’ period of the relationship, but I feel like we have a genuine connection.

Our age gap still worries me, but with how mature Oscar is, I often forget that he’s as young as he is. And he really does seem to only have eyes for me, even though he lives with a group of hot, young, queer men. I can’t see the appeal in myself, but I can see that his attraction to me is genuine.

He’s spoilt me for any other men,I muse as I shut down my computer on Friday evening, excited for the weekend ahead. I’m also dreading Sunday night, because that’s the night Oscar will return to the station for his next two weeks of work.

“Big plans for the weekend?” Sarah asks me as we lock up together, making sure any of the medications are secured in the safes, along with any cash which missed the bank run yesterday.

Usually, I crack a joke about my wild party plans, but today I hesitate and blush, which catches my vet nurse’s keen eye.

Her jaw drops and she blinks at me. “Holy shit, you actually have plans, don’t you?Romanticplans,” she adds as an afterthought, smirking at me knowingly. Then she reaches over and pushes my shoulder with her outstretched palm. “You sly dog: keeping all the juicy goss to yourself.”

“Well, I’m not going to go spreading rumours about myself, Sez,” I laugh.

“Yeah…you’re not getting out of here without telling me all about your date, Doc.” She folds her arms and tilts her blonde head, arching her eyebrows in a way that reminds me of Oscar. “Go on: spill. Name, age, occupation? How’d you meet? How’s the sex?” She waggles her eyebrows as I splutter.

“Oscar. He’s” —I clear my throat— “in his mid-thirties. He’s a stationhand in Yalardy. We met…well, that’s a long story, actually, but we met back in Brissie. I had no idea he was out here.”

“Skipping the cradle-robbing for a moment,” she teases, rolling her wrist, “you’re skimping on the good stuff. The sex?”

“I’m not—”

“Ryan. Come on. Have youseensome of the straight guys around here? I’m living alone with my cats for the foreseeable future. Give mesomethingsexy to work with.”

“You really want to think of your boss having sex?” I ask her incredulously. “With another man?”

“Okay, scratch the straight men: have you seenyou? Silver foxes are in right now, and you, my friend, are one of the foxiest.”

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