Page 70 of Just A Little Joy

Casey stilled. His breathing went shallow.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Just throwing it out there,” I said quickly. “No pressure. But…if you want to cook, there’s a food truck being delivered in January to the bar. It’s ready for a new occupant.”

“Daddy…” Casey sighed. “Why are you having a food truck delivered? Please tell me this isn’t about what I told you.” His voice was tight—hope and trepidation wrapped together.

“No…not directly.” I stepped closer. “You said it, and yeah, I hoped—still hope—you’d want it. But we need it either way. I’m renovating the back in the spring. Beer garden, simple food, nothing fancy. Expansion means feeding people. So the truck was happening no matter what. But yes. I want you in it.”

“I still don’t know if I’m staying.”

“I know. But it’s an option. One that I hope you’ll think about.”

“What about dating your employees?” he asked, giving me a skeptical look.

“You know, the more I thought about that rule, the dumber it sounded. We don’t have that rule anymore.”

“That seems very convenient for you,” Casey said with a soft chuckle.

The look he gave me said he didn’t believe me for a second. Fair. It was convenient as hell. I just wasn’t letting one of my own dumb rules stand between Casey and me.

“After dinner, wanna pull out some toys and watch a movie?” I asked.

It had been weeks since Casey had allowed himself some time in little space. I suspected he was creating distance between his little self and his Daddy, but I wasn’t a therapist, and I wouldn’tpsychoanalyze him. I just knew every offer for play, club nights, or outings got turned down. But he never refused hanging out, the gym, or being with me in big headspace.

The only place he let his little self out was at night, getting ready for bed. Then he became clingy in the sweetest way. He wanted his Daddy to brush his teeth, help him into pajamas, and talk him through the bedtime routine. Once he was under the blankets, he asked for a story in that soft voice. I’d been reading him things off my phone, but I’d tracked down his favorite books for Christmas. I didn’t know if I’d get to read them to him, but I hoped he’d accept the gift.

“Sure, I’d be down for a movie.”

“A Christmas one, I hope.”

“If that’s what you want. I kinda had my heart set onDie Hard, but it’s up to you.”

“I was thinking the cartoon Grinch, unless you really want explosions.”

“The Grinchis good too,” he said with a small smile.

Skipping the toy part was deliberate. We both knew it. It killed me that he wouldn’t let himself accept comfort from his Daddy when he needed it most. Even if he chose to go, there was no reason not to let himself have comfort now. But a cartoon was still a step in the right direction—more than he’d allowed himself in the last two weeks.

I stepped forward to grab plates and kissed his cheek. He swayed into me, like he couldn’t hold his own weight for a second.

“I can’t wait,” I said softly. His hair had gotten long and was falling into his eyes. I brushed it back, and he pressed into my hand. “You tired, bub?”

“I am, Daddy. Really truly.”

“I wish you’d let me take some burdens off you.” Casey closed his eyes but didn’t answer. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held on tight.

Words weren’t needed. He and I both knew the decision was made, but only time would tell which way.

Damn, I wanted him to pick me.

“Daddy, I’s sleepy,” Casey murmured as he pressed his head to my shoulder.

I was propped in the corner of the couch, and he was sprawled half on top of me, his face tucked into my neck. I had no idea how he could still see the movie, but it didn’t matter. The exhaustion finally loosened his grip on the world, and he let himself relax for the first time in days. The closing credits ofThe Grinchplayed in the background, but he was two heartbeats away from crashing.

“I think it’s time for bed,” I said softly. “Let’s get you in the shower, and then we’ll put on pajamas and tuck you in, okay?”