Page 1 of Just A Little Magic

CHAPTER ONE

BARRETT

“Mr. Strega, Owen Howe is here for you.”

Kim’s disembodied voice came over the intercom and interrupted my pointless review of documents that weren’t holding my attention anyway.

“Kim, thank you so much.” Owen gave her a grateful smile as he strolled into the room

“You’re very welcome, Owen,” she called after him.

Owen Howe, man of my dreams, you should come sit on Daddy’s lap.

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

Owen, as always, moved with a quiet grace I appreciated. He was just over six foot, but at six-six, I felt like a protector when I stood next to him. His slim-cut pants were just tight enough that I knew his round ass was perfectly framed. The button-down shirt Owen wore was neatly pressed and a pretty salmon color. His dark-brown hair was professional but not stuffy. I also knew that the moment he was off the clock, the professional veneer of Mr. Howe would be stripped away and my sweet Owen would replace him.

Except Owen wasn’t my anything. I’d loved him since we met our freshman year of college, and he’d never given me even a hint he reciprocated my feelings. Eventually, I’d moved on and dated other people, but none had quite lived up to my friendship with Owen. My exes usually complained that I spent too much time with him, but I’d never met someone who made me want to change that. When my focus returned, he looked at me expectantly. Ugh, I should just go home since I wasn’t making any progress here.

“I’m sorry. Can you please repeat that?”

“Are you okay? I asked what you needed.” Owen’s soft-spoken nature surprised people, but I’d always liked that about him. Shit, I appreciated everything about him. The way his voice washed over me always reminded me of a wave of sun-kissed water.

“Oh yeah, I was going to see if you could come with me up to the mountains this week. Tomorrow would be ideal. We are considering investing in a defunct lodge, turning it into an adult-centered destination resort. I’d like to get some preliminary ideas and begin figuring out a ballpark estimate on the renovation costs. If we offer for it, I want to ensure we are paying the gutted price point.”

“Sure,” Owen said with an easy shrug. “Why didn’t you just text me?”

Owen’s honey-brown eyes were more piercing than I could take today, and I didn’t look directly at him. They reminded me of cat eyes because of the gold in them. I’d never understood how men weren’t falling over themselves to get closer to him. Maybe it was wrong, but I’d always considered him my familiar. Owen was the first person who crossed my mind when I needed a touchstone. My exes had complained that they felt like the third wheel in our relationship, which was likely why they’d never lasted long. I spent all my time comparing them toOwen, and they always came up lacking that essential thing that was him.

To the best of my knowledge, Owen rarely dated. I knew enough from our days in college that he wasn’t ace. He always said he’d know when he met the right one. Unfortunately, that right one wasn’t me, and more than ten years in, he hadn’t changed his mind.

When I discovered Daddy porn in high school, I immediately knew where my interests lay. I devoured every video, every blog, and every Tumblr post that had even a hint of Daddies. Meeting my best friend, who happened to be a little, felt like fate. Unfortunately, life wasn’t a romance novel, and life hadn’t rolled out nearly as neatly as I imagined when I was nineteen. I played Daddy to a few littles when I was younger, but it never felt right that they weren’t Owen. Over the last few years, I’d stuck to vanilla or the occasional Daddy/middle relationship. Yet, another reason for failure. A trip down memory lane wouldn’t get me his company this evening.

Hell, Owen wouldn’t even allow me to be a caregiver to him. He’d always said it was a private part of him and would stay that way. He’d stop by the club occasionally, but he didn’t play there. I didn’t even know what kind of little he was. He liked stuffies and cartoons but never cuddled them when I was around and didn’t regress during the movies either. I didn’t love that Owen still couldn’t be himself around me, even after all these years. We were best friends, and if we couldn’t trust each other, then who the hell could we trust?

“Because I wanted to convince you to come to dinner with me at Quill. I have to meet my dad and don’t want to go alone.” As CEO of our family’s firm, I controlled it, but my dad struggled to let go of the reins. A dinner meeting with him could go on for hours while he second-guessed everything I’d done, including the lodge I wanted to look over. “I think it’s a bestfriend’s duty to save them from their dad.” My previous frustration was out the window now that I had Owen near me. He was magic like that.

Our family business focused on turning derelict commercial spaces into usable entertainment venues. We’d taken warehouses and turned them into retail and art spaces. A closed school was turned into a hotel. For that one, we were able to preserve large swathes of it, including the old chalkboards in the hotel rooms. We also owned multiple restaurants, from the high-end like Quill to a sweet fairy tale-themed café called Stone and Vine near City College. There were a few mid-level restaurants scattered in as well.

In large part, our success over the last ten years was directly tied to Owen’s talent. As our in-house designer, he was a genius at creating the exact vibe we needed, usually based on the barest of descriptions. He worked for our company full-time but took on side projects for friends and found family. He claimed it was enough to satisfy any itch to find a private design firm. Currently, he was working on Rory and Gabriel’s Victorian house. Rory inherited it from his uncle, and now they were in the middle of renovating it. If Owen opened his own firm, clients would beat down the door for him.

“Bear, your dad doesn’t even like me.”

“Owen, don’t be silly. He doesn’t like anyone. What would it take to convince you? Are you open to bribes? Negotiations? I’ve been told I’m good at them.”

“I’m listening.” Owen’s cheeky grin split his face and those gold eyes glittered.

“We could stop for ice cream after dinner at your favorite place.”

Owen tapped his finger against his pretty lips.

Clearly, my offer wasn’t enough. “And I will be grunt labor for yourpainting project.”

“Oh, so close. You already promised to do that the last time you didn’t want to eat dinner alone with your dad. I’ll see your offer and raise you two desserts, the painting project, which isn’t on the table anyway, but now you have to do the taping too, and you have to watch two movies of my choice.”

“Veto on the movies?”

“No.”

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