Page 7 of A Tall Order (Shade Grown Coffee Boys #1)

“Is pasta okay?” I ask Austin when he slips into the passenger seat of my car. I reach over him and buckle his seat belt before turning the key and starting the car. I look over at Austin and hide the smile fighting to show. He looks absolutely adorable in the hat and scarf I made him put on before we walked out the door. The weather is chilly at best, the wind whipping around making it even colder. He doesn’t look at me and crosses his arms. “ Aus, if you’re going to pout, we’ll just stay right here.”

He spent the entire morning in the playroom. Jumping from coloring to stuffies to cars and then, finally, to the action figures and dolls he kept. It was all fun and games until I mentioned that we were going to need to clean up if we wanted to go outside.

The one thing I didn’t know about Austin Westcott is that he has a bit of a temper. I don’t know if it is something emotional on a deeper level or just how he is in his Little space, but after five minutes of corner time, he calmed down enough to help with putting the toys away. I caved and promised that he could order dessert for helping. We would definitely have to talk about it.

I know he’s going through a lot right now and reintroducing his Little side after years, there is going to be an adjustment. His question last night continues to rumble through my head the whole morning, and even now. Could I be a Daddy to Austin? I don't know if that would be overstepping Paul’s wishes for Austin to be cared for. Austin seemed so sure of us moving forward, though.

“Pasta is good,” he finally says and I smile. The first few minutes of the ride are silent. Sunday traffic isn’t the best and we hit a long line at a red light quickly. “I’m sorry. For being rude. I shouldn’t have argued with you.”

Well, that answers that question. The temper must be him working through his feelings. I want to praise him for apologizing on his own. “You’re working through a lot of big emotions, Austin. I understand it. We’ll talk about it more after we eat.”

“Is that something you like? The bratty Littles? I’m not usually like that and I feel really bad.” He mumbles something into his chest and I glance over at him. The line is barely moving.

“What was that?” I ask. I fix him with a quick stare before inching forward in line.

“I said I like being a good boy. I don’t like getting in trouble.”

I smile and reach a hand over and place it on his leg. “I like when you’re a good boy, too, Aus. Let’s get through today, okay? And we’ll talk about more. ”

“I like that name.” I pull my hand back and make a left turn. The simple restaurant isn’t too much further. It’s a pasta pit, casual, with inside or outside seating. “Aus.”

“Yeah?” I like the nickname too. “What about Aussie? You know, with the koalas. Koalas are from Australia, right?”

“They are,” Austin says. “And I like that one too. Paul called me Aus all the time, but Aussie is fun.”

“Aussie it is,” I say matter-of-factly. I make another turn and pull into the parking lot. It doesn't look busy today. It’s a bit after lunch so most of the crowds have left. After Aussie's Little time and the short tantrum, he took a shower and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue sweater. He scowled the whole fifteen seconds it took me to fix the hat and scarf on him. I wasn’t going to push him out of Little space just for a lunch date, but he seemed to be coming to his big headspace over the last half hour.

I step out of the car and move to the other side to open it for Austin. He gives me a quiet, “Thank you” before we start toward the building. I hold the door open for him to step through first.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Austin says. We wait by the hostess stand to be seated.

“I’m here too much,” I say jokingly. “Which is probably not a good thing with my slowing metabolism.”

Being firmly in my forties is something I don’t want to think about. My body is definitely not what it was when I was younger. I still hit the gym semi-regularly and my job gets me out of the office from time-to-time to do some physical labor.

“I think you look great,” Austin mumbles when we follow the hostess through the restaurant. We are sat at a table beside a side window. There’s not much of a view, but it does allow us some sunlight filtering through.

I wait until the young woman leaves with our drink order before responding. “Thank you, Austin.”

I watch Austin look over the menu. There aren’t too many options, but the food here is great. The whole space is homey, a slice of homecooked Italian meals amid a constantly growing city. The whole weekend has felt so natural to me. What was supposed to be just a couple of hours on Friday turned into days together and I know that I’m already in this too deep. Caring for Aussie is natural, fun. I’ve missed having someone around long enough to cook for, wake up with in the morning, spend the day playing. The club is great for a night or two, but most unattached Littles are unattached for a reason.

Right now, though, I am seeing Austin Westcott. The Austin that is a manager at a coffee shop, who has a house, has thirty years of life behind him filled with happy and sad moments. His hair is only a couple of inches long, just starting to curl at the ends and does this cute thing where it flops into his eyes. Blue eyes shine even with the overcast sky outside the window.

Austin looks up and catches me watching him. Instead of averting my gaze, I smile and Austin returns it easily. “Decide what you want?” I ask.

“I already know what I want,” Austin says confidently without breaking eye contact. “But as for food, I’ll probably do the Spaghetti Pomodoro.”

“Good choice,” I say. “At least I don’t have to make you eat your vegetables. ”

“I love cooked tomatoes,” Austin says. “Now, other vegetables are a different story. I’m not a big fan of spinach or carrots, unless they’re steamed. Crunchy carrots are a no-go.”

I make a mental note of all of that. Steamed veggies are a go for future meals. The waitress comes by and takes our order. I go with my usual, Mushroom Pasta Carbonara. Austin wrinkles his nose in the most adorable way when our food is brought out.

We make easy conversation between bites of food. Austin tells me more about the coffee shop and what his week is going to look like. I tell him about the business, surprised that he asks genuine follow up questions about it. He informs me that he took a business class in college.

The conversation turns to his life growing up. I only met him through Paul when they started dating and while we all hung out frequently, I don’t know a lot about his life before Paul.

“My parents are supportive enough," he starts with a one-shoulder shrug. "We don't talk a lot. When I was younger, they were a lot more hands-on and involved in mine and my sister's lives, but over the last ten years we've drifted apart. I haven't even heard from anyone since Thursday."

“I'm sorry, Austin.” I say quietly. I did notice that his phone stayed in the same spot on the kitchen counter all day yesterday. Austin twirls another bite of his Spaghetti on his fork while I talk. “My parents are my role models, always will be. My dad passed away seven years ago, but my mom is still running circles around her kids and the grandkids.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says before swallowing. His eyes widen when I look at him, silently reminding him of my directions this morning to chew before speaking. He does just that. “Sorry.” At least he has the audacity to sound honest. I smile at the simple word and drop it this time.

We continue to talk about anything and everything. The conversation flows from one topic to another seamlessly. We cover basic family dynamics, school, schedules for work, favorite things. We both like cooking, which doesn’t surprise me after this weekend. Austin admits that he doesn’t like to cook for just himself so I promise to share dinner as much as possible.

The waitress comes by twice during our lunch to check on everything and refill our drinks. As promised, I let Austin pick out a dessert before asking for the check. To no surprise, he chooses the slice of chocolate cake.

I laugh and reach over with a napkin when he gets a smear of icing at the corner of his lips. I don’t even register that we’re in public, in a crowded restaurant, until Austin’s cheeks flush a bright pink. “Oh, sorry. Habit, I guess. Someone is a messy eater.”

“I like it,” Austin mumbles, but I do hear the words this time. Austin puts the fork down and it’s his turn to fix me with a look. A look that asks if we’re going to talk about what happened at four A.M this morning. I know what my answer is going to be. I knew it in the middle of the night.

“Let’s get to the car,” I say. I don’t want to have this conversation around strangers. I laugh at the speed at which Austin stands up. “Aussie, slow down. You can’t get in the car until I unlock it, anyway.”

Austin rolls his eyes at me but I just smile. And maybe take an extra second before I decide to stand up with him. I was kidding myself this morning. After hearing him yesterday morning in the shower and then him telling me that he got off a second time, I fought myself on the same feeling. I’d also been hard when we woke up cuddled together this morning. At some point during the night, Austin moved across the middle of the bed and was curled into my side.

It all feels natural, too.

I don't look at Austin until we are back in the car. When I do, everything clicks. His younger features are all hopeful for the talk ahead. I know I'm not getting any younger and I have no respect for people that play games and string someone along without an answer. His eyes match the blue of his sweater, arms bulging the fabric just a bit. I don’t recall him ever working out when he would come to the gym with me and Paul, but his job has to require some lifting, right?

“If we do this,” I start. I smile when he shifts in his seat, turning nearly his whole body toward me. I lose the words I meant to say. Neither of us break the silence, just look at each other. The years of knowing Paul and Austin as a couple flash through my mind rapidly. I’d been jealous of their relationship from time to time, sure, but I’d never once been jealous of Paul because of Austin. They were a packaged deal and everyone knew that. I’d been happy for them. But now?

Seeing Austin sitting there, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. His eyes hold mine. I’m seeing him in a totally different light now. I reach a hand up and cup the back of his head, pulling him toward me. I lean forward at the same time, slowly, giving enough time for Austin to change his mind.

Our lips meet over the console between our seats. It’s a small kiss, just lips pressing against lips. I know my beard is scratching against his chin. His lips are soft, smooth. We move our lips together, not taking it any further, but I don’t want to pull away just yet. Austin’s hand lays against my chest, not pushing or pulling. Just touching .

It’s another several moments before we both pull away. I lick my lips instinctively, tasting the remnants of sweetness from the cake he had just minutes ago. He does the same and then offers a shy smile. His cheeks are tinged pink again.

“That was…” Austin lets the sentence trail off but I nod, agreeing. “Does this mean that you’ll think about my question from last night?”

“Baby.” I finally move my hand from the back of his head to cup his cheek. My thumb glides over his bottom lip. “I would love to be your Daddy.”

Austin’s expression morphs in slow motion. It starts in his eyes when the words register. Then his nose does that excited scrunch that is absolutely adorable. Finally, his lips break out in a wide smile. Then he’s leaning forward again, pressing our lips together more firmly. He parts his lips, giving me the go ahead to deepen the kiss.

Our tongues slide together, not fighting for dominance, but exploring. I let myself get lost in the feeling. Not thinking about our past or memories we shared. This is just us.

A new start for both of us.

It’s Austin that pulls back first. He is smiling, but the rest of his expression is serious. It’s a mix that confuses me. “What is it?”

“I’m just happy,” he says. “After everything that happened, this is honestly the last thing that I thought could come out of it, but I’m glad it has. I know it’s only been a few days, Remi, but it feels good. I feel happy for the first time in a while.”

“I’m glad, sweetie.” I brush his hair back and smile. “I feel the same way. How about we head back to your place and we can talk a little bit before I need to go home? ”

“Do you have to go home?” Austin’s voice is playful and I reach over to make sure he’s buckled in. I may have taken advantage of being close to him again to give him one more quick kiss.

“I do,” I say. “I have a lot of stuff to get ready for the coming week. But I’ll make sure that we don’t have to wait until next weekend to see each other again.”

The drive back to his house is quiet, but comfortable. I know that we have a lot to figure out. The main one being how Austin would get his Little time. Having time just on the weekends won't be enough. It wouldn’t be enough for me to play Daddy a couple days a week. I live a good forty-five minutes from Austin, which puts a strain on things. I have toys and other things at my place, but I know that Austin is attached to his stuff. And generic toys that other Littles have played with doesn’t feel like enough for him. He deserves all of his own things.

Austin leads me inside this time. The second the door closes, I’m pushed against it and Austin leans up on his tip toes to kiss me. Our bodies press together, hips aligned with each others. The weight of Austin’s body against mine is something else and I can feel the blood rushing to my cock. But we need to talk first.

My hands move up his body and hold on to his shoulders. He pouts when I add just enough pressure to pull his lips from mine. If I wasn’t trying to be the bigger person, the Daddy, I would pout too. It’s adorable on him, though.

“We need to talk, Austin. Lay down the ground rules and expectations first.”