Page 19 of Puck Me Daddy

“Morning, Bear,” I said to my new companion.

I padded to the bathroom, the tiles cold under my feet. The shower helped wash away the remnants of the restless night, steam filling the room as I let the hot water run over my tense shoulders.

I toweled off, wrapping the soft cotton around me like a shield. Now, I needed to pick an outfit. Demian had asked for something "appropriate." But appropriate for what? For a day at the beach? Or hiking up a mountain? Or going to a fancy restaurant?

No, of course he didn’t mean any of that stuff. The way he looked at me as he said the word “appropriate.” I just knew, in my heart, that he wanted me to wear something Little.

Rummaging through my closet, I pushed past the professional blouses and tailored pants. There, tucked away in the back, was a pastel pink t-shirt with a cartoonish print of a little yellow kitten—something I'd bought on a whim and never worn in public. I held it up, the soft fabric feeling foreign in my hands. It was a statement. But wasn't that what this whole thing was about? Stepping out of my comfort zone?

I slipped it on, the material cool against my skin. It felt strange, almost daring, to wear something so openly playful. But there was a thrill too, a sense of freedom. I turned to look in the full-length mirror, my reflection staring back at me with wide eyes. I looked . . . different. Softer, maybe.

I put on some denim hotpants, too. Playful but sexy. And then I added a pair of white frilly socks. I definitely hadn’t worn these in front of anyone before. I’d only ever worn them to bed in thewinter but they did look super cute with this outfit. I put my hair in pigtails too, completing the look.

"Okay, Tilly," I said to my reflection, taking a deep breath. "You can do this."

I grabbed a long camel-colored trenchcoat from the closet, something to conceal my choice from prying eyes. As I slid it on, I felt a flutter of nerves and excitement. I was really doing this. Stepping into the unknown, one pastel pink t-shirt at a time.

“Wish my luck, bear,” I said, giving him a kiss on his black plastic nose, surprised by how cold it felt against my warm lips. “Hey,” I said, giggling. “I just thought of a great name for you.”

The gleaming black SUVidled at the curb like a panther ready to pounce. I stepped out of my apartment building, the brisk morning air nipping at my nose, heart pounding like a kick drum in my chest.

Demian spotted me immediately, his piercing gray eyes meeting mine through the windshield. I ducked into the passenger seat, the coat hiding my t-shirt as I fumbled with the seatbelt.

"Morning, Tilly," Demian said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "How'd you sleep?"

I managed a nervous grin, my fingers still trembling slightly from the adrenaline. "Not too bad, all things considered."

He chuckled softly, pulling the SUV into traffic. "All things considered?" he asked, glancing at me with an arched brow.

I nodded, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. "Yeah, you know. The contract, the bear, the . . . everything."

Demian reached over, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "It's a lot to take in," he agreed. "But you're doing great."

His touch sent a jolt of warmth up my arm, and I felt the tension in my chest ease a bit. We drove in silence for a few minutes, the cityscape blurring past the windows.

Demian cleared his throat, his hand still resting on mine. "So, did you think of a name for your bear?" he asked, a playful note in his voice.

My cheeks warmed instantly, and I nodded. "I did, actually," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at me, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "And?" he prompted.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Captain Frosty," I announced, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It makes me think about you on the ice. But also, he has this adorably cold little nose.”

Demian threw his head back and laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. "That's perfect," he said, grinning at me. "Absolutely perfect."

A spark of joy lit up in my chest at his approval, and I found myself grinning back at him like an idiot. There was something so freeing about this dynamic, about embracing this side of myself with someone who accepted it—accepted me—so completely.

Demian gave my hand another squeeze, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. The touch was innocent enough, but it sent a wave of heat coursing through my veins, setting my nerves alight. I squirmed slightly in my seat, the trenchcoat suddenly feeling a bit too hot.

"You okay?" Demian asked, glancing at me with concern.

I nodded quickly, my mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah, just . . . kinda warm," I admitted.

He smiled knowingly, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before turning back to the road. "We'll be there soon," he promised.

Before long, the SUV rolled to a stop beside a large nondescript building, its brick façade weathered and worn. No sign, no flashy lights—just a heavy steel door and a faint hum of activity from within. I craned my neck, trying to get a better look out of the car window, but Demian's hand on my arm stopped me.

"This is it?" I asked, skepticism dripping from my voice.

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