Page 5 of Wrecked for the Holidays

“Jakob, did a bomb go off?” Reed’s shocked expression was promising only because he didn’t walk out the door.

“You’d think so. I try to be organized, but then I get distracted, and I don’t like it, but it is what it is.” I hoped he could hear the frustration in my voice. I knew it looked awful and didn’t want him to think I was okay with it. “I wish I could figure out how to stay organized at home. It’s not like this at work.”

“Oh, there are things that can help you with organization. Have you or someone else ever given you a check-off chore chart?”

“No. I sometimes write a to-do list for myself, but then I lose it. The only thing I never lose is my Christmas plan.” I gestured to the low table with my Christmas items.

“Oh? What’s in it?”

“All the things I want for Christmas, but I’ve never been allowed.”

“Like presents?”

“Well, sort of. Like having a Christmas tree and decorating it. Uh, having a stocking. Baking Christmas cookies. Hot chocolate with sprinkles.” Reed’s perplexed expression was too cute. Little lines appeared between his eyes. I forgot to control the urge to smooth them, and I reached out with my uninjured hand. “You looked vexed.” Reed looked surprised by my unexpected touch but didn’tpull away.

“I’m just confused. If you want to do Christmas things, why haven’t you?”

“My entire life has been dedicated to using my brain. Doing anything remotely not academic was an insult to my ‘gift.’” I curved my fingers into air quotes around the last word. “So there was never any time to not be useful. If I tried, it was shut down quickly.”

“I thought I heard your parents mention something about siblings. What about them?”

“I barely see them. They are quite a bit older than me. We aren’t close.” I paused to correct myself. “They were close with each other when they lived at home, and I suppose they still are, but my brothers aren’t close with me.”

“With your parents?”

“Not really. They’re only a year apart. I don’t see them except maybe once or twice a year, even though they live in town. They came to my graduations, so I don’t think they hate me or anything.”

“Oh, Jakob, I doubt they hate you. You weren’t the one who set things up like they are.” Reed stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I knew he intended to give me a side hug, but I wrapped both arms around his waist. Reed must have known I needed it because he hugged me properly, and I snuggled in. The man had been a stranger just hours ago, yet he already knew me so well.

Last night, I’d sat in the employee parking lot and thought about what I wanted for Christmas. The only thought that had entered my head was I wanted a Papa. I’d known for a couple of years now that I was a little—thank you,BoyOhBoycam boys, you’re the best—but I’d never had the opportunity to explore it. I wanted a Papa for that, and now one had been dropped into my lap.

I wasn’t sure Reed knew he was a Papa, but he had everything a good one had. A Papa was patient and kind. He wouldn’t laugh at his boy when they made a mistake, and he had helpful ideas to improve their life. Reed was perfect for me and would make an excellent Papa. He was exactly what I had on my Christmas list.

Reed’s presence was the calm I needed to tackle the disaster of my hotel room. Once I felt steady, I pulled away and looked into Reed’s eyes. We were almost the same height, and I liked that. There was a size difference in most of the videos and books I read about Daddies and boys, but I liked this better. And even though I’d only read about the dynamic, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a Papa all the time.

“All right, Jakob, let’s organize this place so we can move you out of here.”

Reed had me fixed up in no time. He helped me pull out my bags and put my clean clothes into one with my dirty items in another. We put my toiletries in another one. Last, and most importantly, he had me put my Christmas wish book in my computer bag to protect it. Within thirty minutes, everything was packed and ready to go. Reed insisted on doing most of the physical packing because he was worried about aggravating my hand injury. Perfect Papa material.

#

“I don’t want to get your hopes up about the house,” Reed said when we pulled into his driveway. “I bought the place for its location and view, but I haven’t started any of the renovations. It’s a work in progress.” Reed sounded like someone trying to project confidence, but I could hear the hints of uncertainty.

“Well, you’re looking at someone who was hoteling it until about twenty minutes ago, so I don’t think I have much room to complain.” I smiled over at him, and he returned my grin. My almost-new Papa would learn I was pretty easy to please and didn’t need fancy anything. Reed, once again, unbuckled me and came around to get the door. I put my good hand into his and let him help me out of the truck. Reed moved to withdraw his hand, but my fingers tightened around him, and he left his hand tangled with mine.

Papa was a fast learner.

Reed slung my work bag over his shoulder and then led me up the steps to the house from the side portico we’d parked under. The outside of the house was midcentury modern, but the inside was a nineties reno that had removed almost everything interesting. There was no need to be brutal with my honesty, so I just looked around and smiled.

“Alright, sweet boy, let’s get you situated. You’ve had such a long day.”

“You were in the accident too. Wasn’t your day just as long?” I responded. Reed had called me sweet boy, though, and my insides melted the moment I heard the words, so it was hard to concentrate on his answer.

“My truck was barely dinged. I’m fine. I also wasn’t living out of a hotel and dealing with family stress. Big difference.” He hung my bag on a hook before turning back to me. “How about I give you a house tour? Or I can get your bags while you take a shower? It’s dinner time, and I’m not sure if you had lunch?” He waited for an answer, so I shook my head, and he kept on. “Tomorrow is Sunday, and I have a few days off. If you’re up to it, I have a suggestion we can talk about over dinner.”

“That sounds great, and you’re right. I didn’t have lunch. I was going to get some takeout on my way back to the hotel, but obviously, that didn’t happen. The nurse did give me a package of crackers at the hospital.”

“Oh, that doesn’t surprise me. She’s a sweetheart, but crackers will only take you so far. Any allergies I need to worry about?” I shook my head again. “That makes my job easier then. Anything you hate?” Another head shake. “Anything you love?”

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