Page 20 of Daddy Marc's Gem

“Yeah," Foster said without hesitation. “They might’ve needed time, but they loved me unconditionally.” His eyes grew distant. “Not like my parents.”

Marc waited, giving Foster space to continue if he wanted. When he remained silent, Marc gently squeezed his hand.

“Your parents,” Marc prompted softly. “You haven't mentioned them much.”

Foster's shoulders tensed. “There's not much to say. They chose drugs over me. Left me with my grandparents when I was four.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but Marc heard the pain beneath the practiced indifference. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I'm like this—always trying to please people, always afraid of being abandoned.”

“That's a valid connection to make. Early abandonment can shape how we form attachments later in life.”

Foster gave him a crooked smile. “Is that the therapist talking?”

“Partly.” Marc smiled back. “But mostly, it’s the man who sees how special you are and wishes you could see it too.”

Foster rested his head on Marc’s shoulder. “And we’re working on that, right?”

Marc wrapped his arms more securely around Foster, pulling him closer. “Absolutely. And we'll take all the time you need.”

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, the steady rhythm of their breathing synchronizing in the quiet apartment. Marc savored the weight of Foster against him, the trust implicit in that simple contact. It had been so long since he’d experienced such a strong connection with someone, a sense of rightness that transcended physical attraction.

“I should probably get going,” Foster murmured, though he made no move to stand. “It's getting late, and Dolly will be wondering where I went.”

“Poor girl. We certainly don’t want that.”

Foster remained still. Marc angled his body to face him.

“Is something else bothering you? I don’t want to leave you in a state of stress.” Marc ran a few ideas through his mind, trying to come up with a solution that allowed Foster to get home while also being reassured. “If you’re worried about Dolly, I can always follow you home, and we can talk some more. Would that help?”

Foster appeared conflicted. “It’s after ten already. My schedule is pretty flexible these days, but don’t you have to get up early for work? I don’t want to put you out.”

Marc smiled, touched by Foster's consideration. “I appreciate you thinking of my schedule, but I only haveafternoon appointments tomorrow.” He winked. “One of the perks of being my own boss.” He brushed his thumb along Foster's jawline, enjoying the scrape of late-day stubble against the sensitive pad of his thumb. “Besides, Daddy’s in charge. Remember?”

Foster licked his lips. “Oh yeah. Then yes, I’d like that a lot. Having you there, I mean.” He cleared his throat. “This all feels so new, and I don't want to lose that feeling when I walk out your door.”

“Then it’s settled.” Marc stood, extending his hand to help Foster up. “I’ll follow you to your place. We can make sure Dolly is properly pampered, and then we can talk about whatever you want.”

Foster grinned as he rose, wobbling a bit. Marc steadied him with a hand at his lower back, so relieved to see the happiness in Foster’s eyes. He sent a wish to the stars that he could witness Foster’s joy for many, many years to come.

Chapter Eight

Foster wanted to pinch himself. The evening that had begun as a disaster had morphed into the best night ever. A calm had settled within him, a hope for a future that wouldn’t be filled with loneliness and uncertainty.

Marc pulled into his driveway behind him, and to Foster’s surprise, Marc approached the driver’s side of Foster’s sedan, opened the door then helped him out of his vehicle.

Foster ducked his head, a wave of shyness washing over him. “You make me feel so special.”

Marc laced their fingers together. “That’s my intent.” He dropped a kiss on Foster’s lips. “Am I doing a good job?”

Foster laughed. “Expert level.”

Dolly’s howls grabbed Foster’s attention. “Uh-oh. She hears me. I don’t want to wake the neighbors.”

“Come on then.”

Marc tugged on his hand, and they quickly made their way to the small steps leading to the front door. Foster fumbled with his keys, Dolly's plaintive whines growing more insistent from behind the door. Marc's warm presence at his back steadied him, and he rested his hands on Foster’s hips.

“Take your time,” Marc murmured, his breath tickling Foster’s ear. “She’s okay, just excited. And the neighbors can survive another thirty seconds.”

When the lock finally gave way, Dolly erupted from the gap, a whirlwind of black and white fur combined with unbridled enthusiasm. She danced around them, tail whipping through the air like a metronome on overdrive.

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