Page 13 of Daddy’s Little Camping Trip (Found by Daddy #14)

Quill

My expectation for what the dome was—and what it actually turned out to be—were so completely different.

I thought it would be a fancy tent. Not fancy like glitter and gold and fairy lights but substantial.

One where I could stand up and walk around.

Something that felt closer to a cabin than a tent. And, obviously, spherical.

I was blown away. It was absolutely, positively stunning. It belonged in a high-end magazine for people going on exotic eco-vacations. One of those must-stay bucket-list spots.

Because…wow.

“I take it you approve?” Daddy G asked as we reached it.

“It’s so glamorous.”

“It’s part of the new trend of glamping, apparently.” Daddy G shrugged.

I hadn’t heard the term before, but he explained it, and it fit the space perfectly.

“Maybe I don’t hate camping as much as I thought,” I said, still trying to decide.

“Have you been hating today?” Daddy G asked, suddenly serious.

“Oh no. Today has been…well, it’s the most fun I’ve had in I can’t even tell you how long. That’s thanks to you. But the idea of going back into that tent ever again?” I shivered.

“It’s a good thing we have a dome.” He led me inside.

We. Not he. Daddy G specifically said we, and it warmed me from the middle.

He gave me a tour—which made much more sense than I thought it would.

From his earlier conversations with the people who ran this place, they were planning to expand this section and make it more integrated into the campground.

If I ever came back to little summer camp, I would for sure make reservations for one of these domes.

However much they cost, they were worth it.

“Why don’t we sit out on the deck?” Daddy said. “Don’t worry—there aren’t any bugs. They have some sort of magical citronella barrier going on out there.”

“Barrier?”

“Well, they have little essential oil burners and candles if we want them, and there’s a spray. Basically, it’s citronella heaven. I didn’t think I liked the scent, but after being out here and not being bitten? It’s become my favorite.”

I took a seat on one of the comfy chairs.

He went back inside to get us something to drink.

It was weird switching gears after a little evening.

But it felt like this was big time. I was staying here, which meant conversations probably needed to be had.

Conversations about expectations, what we wanted—that kind of thing.

Or maybe I was overthinking everything and we would each just go to sleep.

I really hoped it wasn’t that.

I liked this guy a lot, and I didn’t see why we couldn’t enjoy this time together fully.

He came back with a little tray, glasses carefully placed on top—five of them, each filled to the top. And in the center? A bowl of Goldfish crackers.

“I didn’t know what you’d want,” he said. “There’s milk, water, lemonade, cola, and iced tea.”

It was so incredibly sweet of him to be so considerate. I looked back and forth between the glasses.

“I think I’ll have the iced tea,” I finally said then immediately second-guessed myself. “Unless you want me to have the milk… I mean, I use some Daddy’s…”

“I want you to have what you want,” he reassured me.

He picked up the lemonade and brought it to his lips. I watched, jealous of the glass, as he pressed his bottom lip against it and took a long drink.

“Did you know about this?” I asked.

“Oh, I tried to book a cabin,” he said. “There was no way I wanted to stay in a tent. My idea of a vacation is room service…maybe a cabana boy or two bringing me pina coladas by the pool.”

“I prefer that kind of trip too,” I admitted.

“But this sounded like fun. Especially when I heard a little someone was coming.”

My cheeks burned at the compliment—or at least what I took as a compliment. “Well, that little someone was only coming because he had a daddy ask him if he was. And he was hedging his bets.”

I didn’t see any reason to be quiet or pretend about any of my feelings.

Communication was key—especially if I was going to get involved with him in a daddy sort of way.

The quickest method to sabotage a potential future was to hope the object of your affection could read your mind or interpret your hints correctly.

I learned that one a long time ago.

And I wasn’t going down that path again.

I took a long sip of my iced tea and was pleasantly surprised.

Even though the place was filled with citronella, it didn’t have the scent I remembered from growing up—those huge bucket candles they’d burn at neighborhood block parties.

This was crisp and pleasant. All of it was…

except the fact that Daddy was sitting in one chair and I was in another.

Chairs weren’t touching.

We weren’t touching.

“Well,” he said, “I’m really glad you came. And I really hope that after this weekend’s over, we can see each other again.”

“I’d like that.” I stood up, walked over to the double lounger, and sat down on it. I patted the spot beside me. “I’d like to sit near you. You seem so far away.”

“Look at you. What a good boy, telling Daddy exactly what you want.”

I blushed. He looked at me, waiting for more.

“I like it when you do that,” I said softly. “When you praise me.”

“A good boy deserves praises,” he said. “What else do you like?”

“I like getting a few pats on my head…when you tell me…”

I was just laying it all out there.

He raised his hand, rested it behind my head, and stroked slowly. “Like this, sweet boy?”

I leaned into his touch. “Yes. Like that.”

We sat there, chatting about different things we liked and didn’t like—both about the daddy/boy dynamic but also about our daily lives. Everything from food to work yucks to TV shows.

And, finally, I couldn’t think of anything else.

Except his lips pressed against mine.

I did exactly what he’d praised me for numerous times.

I set my now-empty tea glass on the coffee table, reached up, and brushed my hand across Daddy’s cheek.

“I would love a kiss.”

“And where would you like that kiss, my boy?”

I wanted to shout “everywhere,” but instead, I played it much cooler than I felt.

“Maybe you could start with my lips.”

And he leaned in, brushing his lips across mine, and I melted into him—wanting to savor every second…

And wanting it to never end.