Page 21 of Daddy Marc's Gem

“Hey, girl,” Foster cooed, dropping to his knees to receive her exuberant greeting. “I missed you too. Look who I broughtwith me.” Foster glanced over his shoulder. “It’s our favorite yard sale customer.”

Marc kneeled beside them, his large frame folding with unexpected grace. Dolly immediately divided her attention, offering Marc a series of enthusiastic licks and whimpers. He swallowed hard. Since he hadn’t planned on getting into any relationships right away—or maybe ever—he hadn’t realized how important it was that Dolly approved.

Marc laughed as he rose. “She’s such a sweet girl. I miss having a dog.”

They stepped inside the foyer, and Foster closed up. “When’s the last time you had one?”

Marc’s expression turned wistful. “About two years ago. Had a rescue mutt named Barney. Big golden mix with the gentlest soul.” His voice lowered. “My best guess would be he was twelve when he went. The shelter told me he was around five when I got him.”

“I’m sorry,” He reached out and laid a hand on Marc’s arm.

“It’s the hardest part about having pets. They’re the family we choose, and it makes it harder when they go.” Marc gave a melancholy smile. “I kept telling myself I’d get another dog when the time was right, but...” He shrugged, watching Dolly circle their legs, her nails clicking against the hardwood floor.

They moved into Foster’s cozy living room, a space he liked to think of as intimate and warm yet modest when compared to Marc’s grander residence. While Marc’s two-story Cape featured expansive, open rooms with arched doorways, Foster’s abode was more compact. Despite the differences, both homes shared a notable similarity: a meticulous display of antique accents that spoke to their shared interest.

Foster gestured to the L-shaped, beige velvet sofa. “If you’d like to have a seat, I can grab us something to drink.”

Marc settled onto the couch, his large frame making the furniture seem smaller than it was. “No alcohol for either of us. But water would be great, thanks.”

“Is that because you don’t drink at all, or another reason?” He didn’t want to inadvertently mess up if Marc was in recovery.

“No, I drink on occasion. Just never at the club or if I’m working with a boy, we’re doing a scene and so on.”

Foster twisted his fingers. “Are we working together right now?”

“It depends on how overwhelmed you are. But no alcohol, regardless. It’s best for my boy to have a clear head.” He smiled. “A lot has happened tonight, it’s late. It might be better for you to relax and wind down.”

“You can spend the night if you want.” Foster snapped his jaw shut and fought the urge to run from the room.

Marc’s eyes radiated amusement, yet he didn’t seem to be mocking him. “I can if you’d rather not be alone. Whatever you need from your Daddy is okay.”

“I blurted.” Foster’s cheeks were so hot he thought they might catch fire.

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s completely fine.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Come sit with me for a moment.”

Even though he still had the urge to run and hide, being with his Daddy was the stronger draw. And yeah, he might as well start thinking of Marc in that term, or he was never going to be able to accept his help. With shaky legs, he closed the short distance between them, then sat next to Marc.

Marc. Daddy.Already he was confused.

“What is it, Foster?” Marc regarded him with a questioning gaze. “You seem far away.”

“Huh?” He needed to pay better attention. “Sorry.”

Marc’s eyebrows shot up. “What reason is there for you to be sorry right now?”

“Is this what you mean by working together?”

Marc leaned into him, reaching up to brush some hair back from Foster’s forehead. The fleeting touches were addictive, a sensation he’d never experienced before. No one had ever touched him with such clear affection.

“This, and many other things I hope we explore. Can you tell me why you felt the need to apologize?”

Foster thought back to what he’d said. “I guess because I thought I was being rude by not listening to you carefully enough.”

“I took no offense. What I’d like is for you not to use that word at all for now. Replace it with the phrase ‘I’d like to apologize’ if you truly feel you’ve done something wrong. It’s too easy to drop the word ‘sorry’ when it’s such an ingrained habit.”

Foster glanced at Dolly, who had settled on her bed in the corner, watching the proceedings with sleepy eyes.

“Wow. Yeah, I can see how using a phrase would make me think twice.” He nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

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