Page 19 of A Little Christmas 4: Teller
“I can. Are you too tired to drive? I’m not so sure about driving your fancy car.” Teller squeezed my hand that was holding his.
I opened the passenger door for him, and once he was inside, I hustled around to the driver’s side and got in myself. “I’m fine to drive, sweet boy. I just wondered if you knew how,” I answered his question.
“I learned to drive from our neighbor in Jennings Grove. He liked to drink, and he got a DUI, so he asked me to take him and pick him up when he went to the tavern. I told him I couldn’tdrive, so he taught me when my mother was at work. After I learned to drive, I’d sneak out of the house—well, I don’t think you can call it sneaking out when my mom wasn’t home—but I’d take him to the bar and then bring him home when he was ready.”
“Where is this driving instructor now?” I asked. I wasn’t jealous—not much—but I wanted to be certain Teller hadn’t been taken advantage of by the man.
“He died in an accident. When I went to RISD, there was nobody to drive him around, and he ran into a tree going home from the tavern. I felt terrible about it. I got a letter from a lawyer while I was at RISD that Mr. Landing had left something for me, but I ignored it. He didn’t owe me anything. I definitely didn’t want that rickety old truck or his squirrel gun.”
I chuckled. “Did you ever find out what it was?”
“Yeah. He left me a thousand dollars and his family album. The pictures were from his childhood, mostly him with his parents. The letter that came with the album said that Mr. Landing wanted the photos to go to someone who was like him and really didn’t have a family who cared about them. I still have the book in a box in my closet. The thousand dollars he left me kept me from living on the streets, which was a godsend. Mr. Landing was a nice older man without a family, and he wanted me to feel like a part of his. I still miss him.” It was a sweet story, and I was glad there had been some kindness to Teller along the way.
Our destination was the Windsor in Clayton. It was a nice hotel, and it had twenty-four-hour room service, so I could feed Teller. “My room has a large spa tub if you’d like to soak. Working that many hours must leave you physically exhausted.”
“Mmmm. That sounds great, Briggs.”
I took his left hand and placed it on my thigh, holding it with my own as I drove us to the Windsor. I put car shopping onmy to-do list, along with finding a place to live. Putting the cart before the horse, I decided to get Teller to look at the listings with me. If the angels smiled upon me, maybe I’d get Teller to live with me. That was the goal.
Chapter Nine
Teller
The soaking tub with a million jets in Briggs’s bathroom at the hotel was the height of luxury. He even ordered some lavender-scented bubble bath for me. It was nothing I’d ever experienced in my entire life.
“Would you like a glass of wine, Teller?” Briggs asked as he stood at the door of the bathroom holding two glasses of red wine.
I grinned. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but that was a money thing, not because I didn’t like it. “I don’t know anything about red wine, but I’ve had it when I’ve gone out to dinner with Barrett and Maizie. What kind is that?” I asked, sitting forward so I could turn to him.
Barrett once took us to this fancy restaurant downtown for Maizie’s birthday in March. He ordered us a bottle of Pinot Noir, and it was delicious. It was paired perfectly with my steak and au gratin potatoes. When I found out how much he’d paid for the bottle, I nearly swallowed my tongue.
“This is a Cabernet Merlot blend. It’s my favorite red, and it’s from a local winery. It’ll taste great with your burger. So, can I sit and talk with you while you soak?” Briggs asked.
“Sure. Is something…? Did I do something wrong?”
Briggs grabbed a small stool from the makeup table and carried it over beside the tub. “How’re the bubbles?” His smile was so kind and loving. I wished he were holding me.
“The bubbles are nice. How long before the food comes?” I asked.
“They said at least an hour.”
“Will you get in with me?”
His eyebrows lifted as if he was surprised I’d asked. Hell, I’d been dying to get him naked, but everything kept getting in the way. I wanted more from him, but I wasn’t sure how to ask for it.
“You want me to get in the tub with you?” His gaze shifted from me to the water before he grinned.
“Yes. It’s nice. I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Much to my surprise, Briggs stood from the small stool and took off the hoodie to reveal nothing under it. He had a muscular chest and well-defined abs, though not really a six-pack. My mouth fell open at the reveal of the inviting torso. It was epic. “Can I wear the hoodie when I get out? It looks cozy.”
My dick was hard, though hidden under the warm water and bubbles. I swallowed as he reached for the button of his jeans, flipping it open and lowering the zipper.
“Anything of mine is yours, sweet boy. Just name it.”
I glanced up to see the sexy smile on Briggs’s face. “Will you…? Do you want to be my Daddy?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
When Briggs dropped trou, I inhaled some of the wine in my glass and nearly choked to death. I’d felt his length against me once, but Daddy had some serious size between his legs.
