Page 7 of Awakening His Daddy (The Lactin Brotherhood #17)

Chapter 7

Izzy

“You do good work, kid.” Dale claps me on the back as we stare at the house we just finished decorating. For it being a rush job, it looks great.

“I’ve got to admit, it’s my favorite thing. Making someone’s house look beautiful for the most wonderful time of the year.”

“Please, no more singing.”

“You don’t like Christmas music?”

“I do, but your singing voice…” He cringes.

“Hey, I sing… Well, I like singing. So that should be enough.”

“The joy in your heart is all that matters.” Dale gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep it inside.” He laughs, and I give him a light shove.

“That’s not nice.”

“Are you ready to head up north?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the lights all purchased and planned out. You’ve got the wreaths and the garland.”

“Yep, I was lucky to find something so late into the season.”

“Nothing like waiting until the last minute,” I agree.

“I guess it was a last-minute surprise for a granddaughter or something. They were willing to pay double, so I’m not complaining.”

“Me neither.”

“Alright, kid. Have a good night, and I’ll pick you up Monday at eight A.M. sharp.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Leo and I were supposed to hang out tonight, but he got sent to Australia because “some asshats can’t tell computers from their dicks.”

I’m not quite sure what that means, but I know he’s an important IT person, so for him to get sent out there, it must mean there’s been a huge mess-up.

Maybe I can find another Lactin Brotherhood event.

Nah, probably not that quick. It’s only been a few days since their last one. I’d check their website, but it’s locked, and you can only get in by invite.

That little thing niggles at my brain again.

Why was Joe there?

Maybe he really was just there because of Leo, but what if it was something more? And he did nod at those two guys in the back, but I would think there would be more guys there. Then again, how many guys lactate?

It can’t be that many, right?

My phone rings, and I’m surprised to see it’s Joe.

“Did Leo tell you to call me?”

“No, I wanted pizza for dinner, and I figured I shouldn’t eat a whole one by myself, so would you like to have dinner?”

“Yes!”

“Izzy,” he scolds. “It’s not a date.”

“Who said anything about a date? I just love pizza.” And your body .

“Fine. How about I stop at Geno’s? It’s on my way home.”

“Yes! I love Geno’s.”

“They have a new pizza I wanted to try that has broccoli on it.”

“Why would anyone do that?!” I gasp. That sounds awful.

“I’m just kidding.”

“That’s not funny.” I pout.

“Meat lovers?”

“And garlic bread?” I cross my fingers, hoping he’ll say yes.

“Why not? It’s the weekend, after all.”

I fist pump the air. “Your place or mine?” I try for cheeky.

“Yours, so that way I can leave if you get too handsy again,” he teases.

If only he knew how handsy I’d really like to get with him. Although, I’m pretty sure he knows.

Or if he didn’t before, he does now after I groped him at the bar. I still can’t believe I did that. Not that I’m sorry, cause I’ve jerked off to the memory of his hot thighs every night this week.

I’m a creep.

“Perfect, I’ll get the beer,” I add.

“Not light beer.”

“Beer snob,” I tease.

“Connoisseur,” he corrects.

“Fine. I’ll get the fancy beer.”

“Okay, I’ll be over in like an hour.”

“See you soon.”

I stop by the gas station that’s close to my house and grab some beer and ice cream, because like he said, “it’s the weekend.”

I do a quick clean of my kitchen and living room.

Owning my own home has been such a dream come true that I’ve been much cleaner than ever before. But not spotless.

Cleaning sucks.

But I know how much of a Daddy Joe is, and he not only keeps everything clean, he enjoys cleaning.

Who enjoys cleaning?

Daddies, that’s who.

The doorbell rings before Joe comes in. He knows that he’s welcome to walk in, but he always rings the bell. I think it’s more like a warning, since Leo has no shame or boundaries and I’m sure Joe has seen him in more than a few compromising situations.

“Pizza man,” he calls out, and I scoff a laugh as I enter the kitchen, where he’s taking off his boots.

“But I don’t have any money for pizza.” I try for my most sultry damsel voice, but it doesn’t work because Joe laughs.

“I’m sure we can think of something, baby.” He pinches my chin and holds me tight.

“Whatever you want.” And I mean that.

“Yeah?” He leans a tiny bit closer, and I swear my heart rate kicks up, along with my dick. “Wash my car.”

I roll my eyes and swat at his strong chest before he chuckles and walks to the table. I grab the paper plates and napkins and head toward the living room.

He eyes me skeptically but follows me to the couch. “Are you going to make me watch those sappy Christmas love stories that you and Leo cry over all the time?”

“No?” I totally was.

“Izzy,” he says sternly. “I draw the line at movies that make you cry.”

“Aww. That’s so Daddy of you.” He tries to interrupt me, but I don’t let him. “Okay, how about the one where the kid gets left home alone?”

“Perfect. But I get to choose the next one.”

He wants to stay for a second movie! Maybe he’ll get so tired he falls asleep on the couch and stays the night.

He grins, and then I remember the type of movies he likes to watch. Lots of violence. Not that I mind violence, but it’s Christmas movie season.

“But it has to be a Christmas movie.”

“Deal.” I feel like he agreed far too quickly. He normally runs whenever Leo and I watch Christmas movies.

“Okay.” I eye him as I sit down on the couch. “Oh, I forgot the beer.”

“I’ll get it. You just relax.”

I want to say “thanks, Daddy,” but I just smile at him instead and get the movie ready.

When he comes back, we burn through the pizza, and I only have one beer. He’s on his second, but he had to clean up before he relaxed onto his side of the couch. I’ve got my feet up and resting against his thigh. He hasn’t pulled away yet, but eventually I sit up to grab my drink and stay in the middle of the couch where our shoulders are almost touching until the end of the movie.

“I thought I said no movies that make you cry,” he teases lightly.

“But his mom came home and now he’s all sorry.” I sniffle, and he pulls me into his side.

“You are just a big softy, aren’t you?” His words are sweet, so I look at him and nod. He’s looking back at me with eyes so dark blue they almost look gray. “Don’t cry, baby.” His big thumb wipes my cheek.

“These are happy tears,” I tell him.

“I still don’t like to see you cry.”

Well, I can fix that, so I wrap my arms around his soft waist and bury my head into his neck.

“Now you can’t see.”

He laughs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m feeling much better now. You must have magic shoulders.”

“Izzy.” He gives me that warning tone, but I don’t sit up. He huffs and leans back before grabbing the remote and starting what he claims is a “Christmas movie,” but there’s an awful lot of swearing, guns, bare feet, and blood.

I’ll admit I’m enjoying it, but I think it’s more the way he lets me lean against him. When he doesn’t push me off, I grab my pillow and make myself more comfortable so I’m mostly lying across his lap. When his hand moves in circles on my back, I relax completely.

“That feels nice,” I purr. “You have such big hands, and you make me feel safe.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I would never hurt you.” He sounds so serious. I bet it’s just because he feels sorry for me.

“Because you’re the best?—”

“Don’t say Daddy.”

“I was going to say policeman.”

“I’m sure you were. You know, lying will get you into trouble.”

“Oh, I like being in trouble.”

He huffs a laugh. “I bet you do.”

We sit and watch the movie quietly before he starts shifting his weight on the couch. When we hit a really loud scene with guns and a helicopter, he reaches up, and I’m positive I hear the snap of an elastic band. Is he wearing a bra?!

No, maybe he’s wearing a tight compression shirt. Damn, that would look so good stretched around his big chest and soft belly.

Gunfire draws my attention back to the movie, only to see a huge fight going on. There’s more blood than I would like, so I turn my head to hide in Joe’s chest.

“Do you want me to fast forward?” Joe asks with a chuckle.

“No, just tell me when it’s over.”

He nods and his fingers card through my hair.

While I’m resting here, I notice that something smells good, like really good. I sniff the air and nuzzle his chest. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” Joe asks, then tenses. “You’re right.” He jumps up so fast I almost fall off the couch. “We need popcorn.”

“Okay.”

And he runs off. I wonder what that’s all about, but when he comes back in with the popcorn, that’s all I can smell, and it’s delicious.

Once he sits down, I decide not to push my luck and rest my head against his shoulder instead. He still doesn’t push me away, so I count it as a win.

When the movie ends, Joe seems like he’s in a real hurry to get out of here, and his arms are crossed over his chest. He looks like a scary bouncer.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Cause you seem mad and can’t get out of here fast enough.”

“Izzy, I had a lot of fun with you, but I’m just tired and ready for bed.”

“Really?” I’m sure my face lights up.

“Yes, I enjoyed spending time with you.” He kisses my forehead, and I practically melt into my floor.

Joe takes the distraction and calls out his goodbye as he leaves.

He said he was okay, but he was still in a real hurry to get out of here.

I wonder what that was about.