Page 33 of His Wilde Little (Saddle Up #2)

It had been so long since I’d had a little’s play date with friends.

Most of them only saw me on the occasional event in town, and even then, I was there representing the ranch in my boots and hat looking like I was giving full trade realness, when what I needed to be giving was little realness in my onesie with a stuffy in my arms and something to suck—like a juice box, nothing dirty.

The play date was at the B&B in one of the spare rooms. I hadn’t planned any of it, so it was a surprise to me that they were all here. Leo, who worked in town between a bunch of places, Oliver, the town mayor, and Malcolm, who was in a relationship with Elijah, one of the B&B owners.

We were in a big room with all the things we might’ve ever needed for a teddy bears tea party, except, I didn’t bring a teddy bear, I had my alpacas stuffy.

The other had teddies, and we were all in our bear onesies.

Mine was the best since I had the paws, but they made drinking from the tiny teacups difficult.

“It’s been so long,” Leo said. “Only the three of us could make it through.”

The group chat was much bigger than just the four of us, since most of the people were here during summer, and we were so far from summer right now, a lot of our friends were on vacation with their Daddies in Snowflake Springs.

I imagined if we had more time, we would’ve been able to go there and unwind.

“I think a small group is fun,” Malcolm said. “Plus, Elijah might not have let us use this room if there were more people.”

“Elijah would, Ezekiel probably wouldn’t,” Leo laughed. “And of course, my boyfriend, Henry, he made desserts. Which I hope are all to your liking.” On a metal tiered shelf there were cupcakes and cake slices galore. I was beginning to get a cavity just looking at them.

“I’ve missed tea parties,” Oliver said. “I feel like I’m constantly dealing with work and admin. You know how much goes into running this town.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s draining sometimes.”

“But it’s all worth it,” I said. “It has to all be worth it.”

He nodded. “You know what I feel, you’ve got that whole ranch on your back.”

“Mine and Lorenzo’s backs,” I said.

“I bet you’re always on your back with him around,” Malcolm giggled.

“Well, I was an hour ago.”

We all burst into giggles.

It was fun to share in conversation about our Daddies, what they did for us and what we did for them.

Sometimes, I wondered what others got up to.

I knew some people didn’t engage in both little play and the bedroom stuff, and for a while when I was younger, I was conflicted about it, but over time, talking to my friends, and engaging in some online stuff, it was a point of arousal for me.

Alongside all the food for the tea party we were having, we had some of our favorite music, mostly pop icons like Britney Spears, and when it came to the queens of pop music, we all had lip sync battles with each other, trying to out perfect.

I was had a sever disadvantage because of my onesie, but at least I could slip and slide everywhere. It was a bit of a workout.

And we also had our coloring pages and a whole bucket of pens and pencils and color with. It was nice doing this time alone, but it was even better with friends where we could talk and ramble about whatever was happening in our lives.

“We’ve been watching a lot of Murder, She Wrote ,” Leo said. “It’s our comfort show. Since Henry got here, he’s been suspicious of everyone. You want to hear some of the stories he tells.”

“I wish my Daddy would tell stories,” Oliver said. Oliver’s Daddy was the owner of the hardware store. “He can read them from the book, but he doesn’t create them.”

“My Daddy doesn’t need to create stories,” I said. “I just like it when he talks to me. You know, that Texan twang he has.” I let out a moan and shivered. “Especially when he’s whispering in my ear.” I squealed into a giggle.

“Jelly!” Malcolm said. “Elijah tells stories through the food he makes, which I think is fun.”

“So, what stories does your Daddy tell, Leo?” I asked. “I always loved Jessica Fletcher as a character, she was so much fun. It’s why I always use that gif of her eating popcorn whenever people in the chat argue over who has the best collectables.”

“I have the best,” Oliver said.

He was probably right as well. I was not going to engage with it. I didn’t collect the little Sublime bears that most everyone else did. They’d released so many collections. I’d be more broke than I already was.

Leo began spilling all the strange mystery stories his Daddy told about the people in town, none of them were based in truth.

They were all just fictions. “You know, Mabel Grant, she has the corner house just as you turn to get to the lake, well Daddy created this story about her. He said she buys the gingerbread loaf he makes, but she doesn’t eat it herself, instead, she lures the birds in from the lake to her house and then she eats the birds. ”

We all shared the same look of horror as the story unfolded.

Leo continued. “He once saw duck feathers in her bag, and she also mentioned that she had duck feather pillows. So that’s why he said it.”

“Don’t you think we’d know if she did that?” Oliver asked giggling. “I mean, she’s a sweet old lady.”

“You have not watched Murder, She Wrote then, because it’s the sweet ones you’ve got to watch out for,” Leo said and we all nodded in agreement.

I shuddered. “So, he can make great desserts and tell a good story,” I said.

“But can he ride horses and—and you know, make a lasso?” I was suddenly competitive about my Daddy now, but still mostly because I was butthurt over the bakery being bought out from—well, not under me because I’d never tried to buy it, but mentally, I thought it was going to be mine.

Leo laughed. “No way, he came from the corporate world with all the computers and stuff,” he said.

“Mine can make great desserts too,” Malcolm added. “And he’s good in bed.”

This is what I’d missed, sharing all the fun tidbits of life with each other. My friendship group, no matter how little we spent with each other, we were friends, even the new ones felt like they’d been with us for the longest time.

“Ok, I have a bit of a more serious question now,” I said.

Everyone went quiet. Malcolm turned the music playing in the background off.

Leo touched my shoulder. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, so, as you all know, I’ve won a lot of baking titles at the local festivals,” I said.

We didn’t get trophies or badges, but we got little certificates, so it counted.

“Well, in a couple of months, the Saddle Up event is taking place, and I don’t know what dessert to put forward.

It has to be something that represents me and also will appeal to the hardened cowboys. ”

“Cherry pie,” Oliver announced. “Nobody can resist a cherry pie. In fact, I want cherry pie.”

“Ooo,” Malcolm let out. “I thought we were all about the pineberries here.”

“We are, and I would love to represent the town, but not many people eat or know about them. So, they might not even try it. But cherry pie, hello, I’m sure Leo can tell you that’s a seller at his Daddy’s bakery.”

Leo nodded in agreement. “It is a seller. Although, folks around here do love just any dessert.”

“Apple pie?” Malcolm added. “It’s a pretty standard dessert, right?”

“A lot of people make apple pie,” I mumbled. I had ideas, but every time I tried to put them forward, I second guessed myself. “I did make a pecan pie for Thanksgiving. It’s my Daddy’s favorite, I totally surprised him with it.”

“And you didn’t bring any for us,” Leo asked. “I think I want to grab a pillow and bash you with it.”

That was all that was needed for us to clear a space and begin our pillow fight royale rumble. it was a lot of fun, and no spilled foam and feathers from broken pillows this time. In the past, we’d broken a whole lot of pillows with our love for a good fight.

I didn’t want our tea party to end, but it wasn’t like it was about to completely end for me because my Daddy was waiting for me in another room, and I hadn’t filled myself up on all the snacks here, so we could eat together.

I gave each of my friends a big bear hug before leaving, and took under advice their comments about making cherry pie for the dessert competition.

I still had months before that, and it was a necessary thought to occupy myself with, otherwise, I would’ve been searching the website for the alpaca livestock.

I was desperate to get some friends in there for my current two.

Shelby and Aaron. They were a cute couple, but they were not going to have little furballs anytime soon.

Probably in protest for needed more friends who weren’t goats and chickens.

Daddy wasn’t in the bedroom, but there was a little note on the made bed, alongside some clothes laid out for me.

‘I’ll be downstairs. Come join me when you’re ready for dinner, and put these on.’

They were my adult clothes, and while I narrowed my eyes at them, underneath, he’d given me my cute tank top with ‘Daddy’s Boy’ on it and maybe the tightest pink pair of briefs I owned.

I hadn’t even packed them. I jumped onto the bed giggling before realizing I was now creasing up the nicely arranged shirt.

It felt like that scene from the Titanic where Rose walks down the big stairs and sees Jack at the bottom of them. Daddy Lorenzo was right there at the foot of the stairs, almost like he was knew I was coming down them.

“Just in time,” he said, taking my hand. He bowed his head and gave my hand a kiss. “I knew you could take direction well. Look at how well you listened. We’ve got a table.”

The B&B had one large table in a dining room, but they also had a small alcove area with some intimate table settings. There was only one table set with a candle lit and a small vase of roses in the center.

“Feels like you’re about to propose,” I said. “And I wanna say, before you do, maybe we should wait.”

He chuckled. “I know I move quick, but I’m not about to race you down the aisle to the alter,” he said, pulling a seat out for me. “I’m just showing you off to the world.”

The B&B wasn’t completely booked, but I liked that he’d put some thought into it.

This was the world for us, filled with all the people we knew and cared about—at least, that was right for me, I was still trying to figure out who the man behind the cowboy hat was, and little by little, I was getting my peek behind it. I liked what I saw.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you more,” he said, taking his seat. “I’ve also took the pleasure of pre-ordering our meals. It’s something very special. You’ll be pleased.” He winked. “I’m sure of it, baby.”

Weak in the knees, I pressed them together before I turned to Jell-O and collapsed on the ground, or worse, jumped across the table to get at him.

That would’ve been dangerous for a number of reasons, least of all the candle, but more so because I wouldn’t be able to control myself from riding him to completion in front of anyone who passed by.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You’ll have to wait,” he said. “I got some fruit wine, it’s local stuff, it’s kinda nice too.”

My eyes lit up at the bottle. “Oh my god, I love this stuff.”

“It’s an adult juice box, or so Elijah told me to call it,” he said. “We kinda talked about the dynamics and stuff. I’m still learning, so forgive me if I’m wrong about anything.”

“I like it, adult juice boxes sound just what I like.”

Ezekiel served us the chilled wine as we continued to talk. I hadn’t noticed him appear at first, the candlelight made it feel like we were alone together, like we were back home on the small dining table, except, I didn’t have my coloring mat to draw his portrait as he stared at me.

As soon as dinner was served, I realized why he’d preordered it for me.

It was a special menu. It was little friendly.

On a plate, I had dinosaur shapes, mashed potatoes, dino spaghetti shapes in sauce, and little peas on top of the mash like they were asteroids coming down from space to destroy the dinos.

I sat back in awe. “I gotta take a picture of this.” I barely looked across at what he had, it was some type of fish and potatoes dish.

“I was lucky they had all of this in there, otherwise I was prepared to take a trip into town for it,” he said. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I hope you haven’t planed anything for dessert,” I said, looking up at him with a wry smile.

“Well, they have ice cream sundaes, I figured we could share one of those,” he said. “I assumed you would’ve had your fill at your gathering. Am I right?”

“So many cakes, you could prod my belly and probably feel it all.”

He bit his lip lightly. “I think I prefer to prod it from the inside, which I’ll save for later.”Twice in one day, we were on vacation. I slipped my leg between his. He kept mine in place with his knees together. “You’re not getting that back now. It’s mine.”

“I’m all yours,” I whispered.

“Good boy.”

My leg twitched at the phrase, almost ready to yank him closer. “Thank you, Daddy.”