Page 30 of Loving Her

“Can Bwaker read my story tonight, Mommy?”

“I … Well, I guess if that’s what you want?”

“I do!”

“Then I think I’ll go to bed myself. Mommy loves you, baby girl.”

“I love you, too, Mommy.” Indy gives her one last hug, then a kiss on her forehead and steps back.

As she walks by me, her hand snakes around me, giving me a quick hug. Her touch warming me all over. “Goodnight to you, too, Mr. Bwaker,” she whispers playfully, stretching up to kiss my cheek. She walks out, leaving me staring at her, unable to say a word in return.

“I don’t need a story tonight, Bwaker.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I just told Mommy that so I could ask you a question,” she says and all the sudden she looks extremely serious for a little girl.

“What is it?”

“I’m ‘fraid to ask. I’m scared.”

“Kiddo, you know you could ask me anything,” I tell her, gently running my fingers through her blonde hair.

“I’m scared you’ll say no, and it’s really important.”

“You’ll never know unless you ask me, Tinny. I will make you a promise, though. If I can do anything to make you or your mother happy, then I’m going to do it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” I answer. She nods, before closing her eyes. “Tinny?”

“I want you to be my daddy.”

“Tinny …”

“Will you Bwaker? All my friends have daddies. Some of them even have two! I only want you.”

“Sweetheart,” I start, my heart in my throat. I want to take this little girl in my arms and tell her yes. I can’t do that. It’s something I need to talk about with Indy. I’m also pretty sure that if I talk to my woman about this, she’s liable to run for the hills. I can’t let that happen. This is something I have to work up to slowly—preferably while she’s in my bed with my cock buried inside of her, willingly saying yes to anything I ask.

“I promise I’ll be good, Bwaker. I’ll even clean my room.”

“Tinny …”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, sounding so sad and dejected that my heart is literally breaking inside my chest. “I sorry, Bwaker. I think I want to go to sleep now.”

“Tinny, it’s not that I wouldn’t love to be your daddy.”

“It’s okay,” she says, not looking at me. She’s turned away from me, mostly staring at the wall. I can see the side of her face though, and the little tears that are trying to escape her eyes are my undoing. “Bobby and the other kids at school said I didn’t have a daddy because I was weird. I just thought maybe since you seemed to like me …”

I don’t know this Bobby kid and I know as an adult you’re supposed to be tolerant and understanding of kids. Right now, however, I’d like to wring Bobby Watson’s neck. The thought does make me feel guilty, considering the kid is probably Tinny’s age. I wouldn’t be opposed to taking my frustration out on Bobby’s father, though. In fact, that might definitely be something I do very soon.

“Tinny, I would love to be your daddy.”

“Bwaker …”

“In fact, there’s nothing I want more in this world.”

“There’s not?”

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