Page 11 of Gifted To His Dad

“How are we going to move that?” I ask.

“I’ll help you.” A boy who can’t be older than seventeen comes up and arranges his sled beside the massive tree. It takes all three of them to roll it on.

“You two go get some hot chocolate. I’ll help him get it wrapped, and we can meet at the car,” Griffin says as he grabs the end of the rope with the kid, and they drag the weight behind them.

“You heard the man. Hot chocolate.”

Inside, the building is warm and cozy. The entire place looks like Santa’s village. Trees decorated to show off ornaments for purchase. Aisles with everything from cookie cutters to wreaths. There’s a glow forming in my chest, and the back of my eyes begin to burn as I watch the families weave through the space.

Cole comes up to me, holding out a Styrofoam cup, steam pouring from the top, and leads me out into the parking lot.

He takes one look at me and raises his hand to my face, wiping under my eye. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything is perfect.” I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I can’t explain it any other way.

“So, am I included in all this perfection?” He gives me a cocky smile.

I choke on my laugh, doing my best not to spill my hot chocolate. “I guess so.”

He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close, nuzzling my ear. “You guess so, hm? What do I need to do to make you certain?”

My breath catches as his low timber curls in my stomach.

“I can’t leave you two alone for a second,” Griffin says from beside us, scolding. “Get in the car.”

“Yes, Daddy.” I say it out of reflex, and my eyes go wide.

It’s their hooded eyes, hot on me, that tell me I’ve done something unexpected. Griffin closes the distance between us until the toes of his boots brush mine, my back pressing into Cole’s chest. Time slows around us as Cole gently grips my hips, holding me in place as Griffin leans in closer. Tingling electricity crackles beneath my skin as anticipation swirls below my ribs. I’m not sure what’s about to happen, but I know I’m waiting for it. Each second feels like an eternity. If I just stay still, maybe I can have it.

“Excuse me.” A young mother comes by us with a stroller, and I jerk away.

I cover my face with my hands. What was I thinking?

The ride home is uneventful. The guys laugh with each other in the front seat. It’s easy and oh so natural. It’s clear that they’ve been doing this for years. A twinge forms in my chest as I watch them, wondering what it must be like to have a family you can be close to. If I look deeper, I can admit that I’m not just jealousof what they have; I want to be a part of it with them. For them to accept me in their family for longer than just a weekend. Cole and I will go back to the city. He’ll stay in his apartment while I’ll be at my rundown one, and that loneliness will sneak back in…

Cole turns in his seat until he can face me. “You’re quiet. Everything okay?”

How does he always know when I’ve gotten too far into my head? How does he always know how to pull me out?

“Just a little tired.”

His brow twitches like he doesn’t believe me, but his voice is soft when he says, “We’ll get you home, and you can read your book while we set up this tree.”

“I can help,” I protest.

Griffin says, “No way. You aren’t going anywhere near that thing until we get it stabilized.”

I’d argue, but who am I kidding? I’m more than happy to sit back and read while they figure it out.

We pull into the cabin’s long driveway and park in front. The guys are already bickering about the best way to get it down before they get out.

Griffin guides me to where he’s deemed a safe distance away. “Stay here.”

There’s a command in his tone, and I fight back the urge to sayyes, Daddyagain. A small part of me wants to see if their reaction is even more intense. I get the distinct feeling I’m playing with fire, but I don’t have time to think too hard about it before the tree’s sliding off the hood of the car and the end swings out, coming my way.

Even with the distance, I can tell I can’t avoid the hit, and I lift my arms to protect myself. I’m pushed back, flattened against the side of the house, pinned in place by a broad, heaving chest.

Griffin’s muscles flex like he’s holding himself back before he lets out a long breath. “Fuck, that could have been bad.” He lifts my chin and checks me for injuries. “You okay?”

---