Page 5 of Santa’s Little Faker
Hell, I’d heard one of his family members having to explain a dirty joke about a screwdriver and a cucumber that’d been the dumbest thing I’d ever heard.
“Who the fuck is supposed to be watching out for him?” His cousin Enzo had been keeping a close eye on him since he was the foreman for what had turned into a family construction business, but it was clear he’d dropped the ball.
Kinky dating sites?
He was too young for that kind of stuff.
Wasn’t he?
No. He had to be.
“What the hell are they doing letting him sign up for something like this?” A Daddy? An older man? His fucking preferences were ridiculous. There was no way he knew he wanted to explore spankings and role-playing.
He probably didn’t know what either of them were.
Somehow Orlando had always walked through life with his head in the clouds or buried in the sand and he’d ended up startlingly innocent. But that seemed to have taken a drastic turn in a very short period of time, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“What the hell has been going on?” I missed a couple of family dinners and all fucking hell broke loose. “A Daddy?”
What the fuck did he mean by role-playing?
There were too many options for that and too many dirty people online. What if he meant pretending not to know his date so they could flirt, and his stalker thought that meant something a lot more interesting?
Did Orlando know what he was insinuating?
“He’s going to end up with some asshole with a breeding kink if he’s not careful.” We were all over the internet lately, so who knew what kind of guy had found him.
He’d gotten presents.
He was expecting something else tomorrow.
“Fucking hell.” That was not acceptable because I had to work. “Fucking hell.”
Stomping through the house to the front door, I shoved on my shoes and headed out into the yard. Orlando was probably busy playing with his Build-a-Bear or doing something innocent and cute, so I didn’t bother being quiet or subtle as I draggedout the ladder from the garage that was almost too small to be considered a garage.
“Someone’s got to take care of that brat before he gets abducted by a fucking stalker who thinks he’s a Daddy.” If anyone got to Daddy that brat it would—
“Fucking hell.” I needed to stop that train of thought before it got out of hand. “Stalkers and wannabe Daddies.”
Orlando needed more supervision and I was going to be the one to do it.
“His family clearly can’t be trusted with that job.” It wasn’t hard, but someone had dropped the ball big time. “Fucking online dating profiles and asshole stalkers.”
Chocolates and toys?
That was fighting dirty because Orlando would never realize someone sending him everything he wanted was dangerous. He’d never even set up an online dating profile before, so he probably didn’t even know how dangerous it could be.
He usually dated women for fuck’s sake.
Mumbling to myself about how dangerous real life was and trying not to obsess over what could go wrong on that fucking site, I set up the ladder under the camera pointed at the driveway and climbed up. “What if he finds one of those couples who like to seduce innocent guys? He’s not prepared for something like that.”
He wasn’t prepared for anything besides work and dealing with his insane relatives.
“How had he ended up in this situation?” Adjusting the camera to point over to Orlando’s yard, I did my best to makesure it would pick up anyone making deliveries before I came back down the ladder to check the view on my phone. “This has to be someone else’s harebrained idea.”
But who?
His best friend was so levelheaded he was damned near a robot, which I completely approved of, but that didn’t give me any ideas about who else could’ve come up with it. Daddies and spankings and stalkers?
