Page 68 of Daddy's Muse
My breath caught. “Pappa, you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t.” His fingers squeezed mine. “But I want to. It’ll be nice knowing that you have someone to cuddle with when I’m out of the house.”
And just like that, the lump in my throat turned into a laugh that trembled on its way out, and I let him pull me up into his arms.
“I love you,” I cried, nuzzling into him.
“I love you more.”
I wiped my tears against his shirt. “How do you say ‘I love you’ in Norwegian, Pappa?”
“Jeg elsker deg.” Pappa kissed my forehead.
“Jeg elsker deg,” I copied, grinning when it ended up sounding right.
17
Bodin
The shelter smelled faintly of cat litter and disinfectant, but Colby didn’t seem to notice. He was practically vibrating with energy as he moved from kennel to kennel, crouching down to coo at the animals, his eyes shining like it was Christmas morning.
I hung back, hands in my pockets, watching him with a warmth I didn’t recognize in myself. A man like me didn’t get this kind of sweetness—not without breaking something along the way. And yet, there he was.My Colby.Bouncing on his toes in front of a glass-fronted pen full of kittens, his face split in a grin as he pressed his fingertips to the glass.
“Look at them, Pappa!” he called, though his gaze never left the cluster of tiny multi-colored furballs tumbling over eachother. His voice had that lilting, breathless quality that made me want to bundle him up and put him in my pocket.
I gave him the smallest smile. “I see them, sweetheart.”
He giggled under his breath, crouching low so one of the kittens batted at his shoelace through the crack at the bottom. God, he was beautiful like this—unguarded, glowing, all that innocence in sharp contrast to the dark, greedy thoughts clawing through me. I wanted to bottle the sound of his laugh, wanted to pin down the look in his eyes so no one else could ever make him feel this way.
A shelter employee walked up, leaning down to murmur something to him. Colby’s head tilted, then he nodded quickly, curiosity lighting up his face. Without a second thought, he followed the young man down a narrow hallway.
My jaw tightened. I hadn’t heard a damn word. Didn’t fucking like that. I moved after them, my strides longer, closing the distance until I rounded the corner.
And there he was—stopped dead in front of a small pen, wide-eyed and trembling like the air had been knocked out of him. Inside the enclosure, nestled in hay, sat a rabbit. A creamy white, with large spots of light brown, soft ears drooping to the sides, its nose twitching as it peered up at Colby.
Colby’s hands pressed against the glass, his breath fogging a small circle. He looked back at me then, tears already brimming in his eyes, his lips parted in wonder.
The sight slammed into me like a fist to the ribs. My boy. My precious boy.
I stepped up beside him, resting a steadying hand on the small of his back. “Sweetheart,” I murmured, voice lower now, “you want this one?”
He gave the tiniest nod, not trusting his voice.
I kissed the top of his hair, then turned to the employee, my tone clipped, decisive. “How much for the rabbit? And where doI buy everything he’ll need? The right enclosure, toys, food—all of it.”
The worker blinked at me, startled, but nodded in response. “We—we can set you up with a starter kit here, actually. And I can give you a list of what else to pick up at a pet store.”
“Good,” I said shortly. My hand smoothed over Colby’s back as I glanced down at him again. His lashes were wet, his expression still caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. I bent low enough that my words brushed against his ear. “It’s yours, baby. You hear me? Whatever you want—it’s yours.”
The bunny twitched its nose again, and Colby made a soft sound that was almost a sob.
I held him closer, my chest tightening with a possessive swell so sharp it nearly hurt.
The employee gave me a careful smile, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, then crouched to open the enclosure.
“We just like to make sure it’s a good fit,” he explained softly. “Sometimes bunnies don’t take to certain people.”
I bristled at the implication—at the thought of anything rejecting my boy. But before I could snap, the man was already scooping the little creature up, tucking it gently against his chest.
