Page 9

CHAPTER 9

A s soon as her Viking mentioned they were headed to Sabre, Lovie’s stomach twisted in knots. They had spent the past several days documenting everything she could recall from what she had read over the past four years.

“Are you sure they want me there? What if they don’t like me?” Lovelyn asked for the tenth time.

Sure, Law had told her all about the people she’d be meeting. He’d even written it down for her, including names and descriptions of all his brothers and the women in their lives. There were a lot of them. Like, a whole lot.

And since this was the town of Darling, they were free to carry on in their Little space or Big space, or anywhere they liked. As a resort town for families with children, Darling centered around all things fun and fabulous about childhood. Visitors never suspected that the residents were practicing the DDlg lifestyle; they believed the people of Darling were the nicest, most understanding individuals in the world.

According to what she’d read in The Daily Nugget, the visitors were right. However, everyone in the room she was about to enter had been living the lifestyle for a while now. And Lovie had never met an actual Little before. Not in person.

Her Viking, as always, had his hand on her thigh. He’d bought her several pairs of shorts, skirts, and dresses so he could put his hand on her skin.

“I don’t want anything keeping me from touching your silky skin or anything else I wish to touch,” he’d said. And the one time she put her leggings back on, he’d torn them off her and spanked her bottom.

“They are going to adore you. Are you joking? What’s not to like? You’re as sassy as sassafras tea. The girls will love you for your t-shirts alone. I give it three weeks before they offer you a crown.”

Oh, wow. That was a lot to process. Today, her shirt read, “Stop Rushing Me. I’m Waiting For The Last Minute.” She had to glance down to read it to be sure. That pretty much summed it up on most days.

Now, to examine Law's points one by one. She was a lawyer, after all, on paper anyway. “First, I’m not sassy. I’m loquacious. Wait, no, that isn’t first. That’s second. The real first is, what do I have to do to get the crown sooner?”

Her Viking smiled, sending swirling butterflies winging through her stomach and fluttering downward. He was beautiful in a scary tattooed Viking kind of way. If he smiled like that again, she might forgive him for constantly throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her where he wanted her to be.

Shoot! She’d decided to show him how much his caveman tactics upset her by not talking to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Every time her stepfather had refused speak to her when she’d been a child made her feel isolated and unimportant, something she didn’t want to inflict on Law no matter how many times she got tossed over his shoulder. “Sorry, fairy cat. I don’t know of any shortcuts. You’ll have to be patient. But the sass will help.”

Aw, she hated waiting. Wait, what did he say? She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I already told you I’m not sassy. You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

That would show him. When in doubt, quote your favorite movie, and hers was The Princess Bride . Not that a Viking like him would be caught dead watching a movie like that.

He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “Inconceivable!”

Her jaw nearly hit the seat. He had quoted the movie as well, with a lisp and everything. “You’ve seen The Princess Bride?”

“Of course, I’ve seen it. What, do you think I’ve lived under a rock all my life?”

Great. Now, she’d insulted him. “You couldn’t fit under a rock, um, Viking. Besides, Vikings live in longhouses, but theirs aren’t made of glass. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He flashed her a lopsided grin. “I was just teasing you, fairy cat. I’m not upset. I do have a question. What’s up with you and Vikings?”

“You don’t like Vikings?”

“I like Vikings just fine. I’m just not sure why you call me Viking. Should I be honored or offended?”

His tone hinted he was still teasing her. “Well, you have Viking hair. You have Viking tattoos. And you definitely act like a Viking.” She tapped her chin and pretended to give it thought. “Your only shortcoming is that I haven’t seen you slay any enemies with a spear or an axe, like they do in the movies.”

His gaze snapped to hers, and she giggled. He looked horrified. “What the hell kind of movie are you watching?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it sounds too bloodthirsty for Little girls to be watching. Who let you watch something like that? ”

She gasped. It was one thing to pretend he was a Daddy. But those words came straight out of a Daddy playbook.

Was he serious right now? They’d kind of settled into the “Viking, not Daddy” routine. She’d been disappointed, but she’d adjusted. Why rock the boat now?

Should she say something? She’d gotten a lot braver over the past few days. But this was way scarier than jumping down from a super tall fence.

What should she say? Should she be subtle or just come right out with it?

No, she should not just blurt something out. She wouldn’t say anything about being a Little, definitely.

“You think I’m Little?”

Or not. Smooth. Very smooth.

Now, all she could do was hold her breath and wait for his answer.

He shook his head, and her heart sank. At least she’d found out before she’d made a fool of herself. Well, almost.

“You are little, but that’s not what I meant. I meant a Little, someone who can be one age physically but sometimes feels like a different, younger person inside.”

He shrugged as if he hadn’t just said something life-altering. As if it were no big deal. Gah!

“I know you have many Little qualities, but I’ve learned not to make assumptions. So I’m asking. Are you a Little?”

Her tummy flipped. What did she say? A more pertinent question was, how did she want him to react to what she said? She wasn’t the same as the Littles in her books. She was taller and fluffier than most Littles. What if he laughed? Maybe she was fooling herself. Maybe she was too big to be a Little. And too old. She was twenty-seven. She’d never even read a story about a Little her age .

Okay, Lovie. It’s now or never. He’d said it was okay to be scared and brave at the same time. You have the scared part down. Are you brave?

Not meeting his eyes, she answered him. “I am. At least, I think I am.”

Taking a deep breath and preparing herself for what she might see, she glanced over at him. He was smiling at her again, and it sent those tingles straight from her tummy to her princess parts.

“I’m proud of you, babygirl. Do you know what age your Little is?”

Why was she feeling so shy now? The hard part was over. Maybe all the parts were hard at first.

“Not too young. It’s confusing. Usually, I feel like I’m around six, but then there are times I’m four or five. And other times, I feel eight or ten. I’ve never discussed it with anyone. I’m probably doing it wrong.”

He caught her hand and slid it up her thigh. Then he held it there and returned to stroking her thigh with his thumb. She stared at her hand in his, feeling cared for and Little.

“There’s no way to do it wrong, Lovelyn. You do what feels right in the moment. There are no hard-and-fast rules. Many people have more than one age when they’re Little. As long as being Little makes you feel good, you’re doing it right.”

Some of the tension lifted from her shoulders. Finally being able to talk to someone about this was freeing. She had so many questions.

Sure, there were online platforms where she could ask questions, but she never knew who she was really talking to. Could she trust them? Usually, she trolled the forums, reading other people’s questions and the answers. She’d never asked a question herself. What if someone saw it? That was too much of a risk.

She’d read a lot about it, but mostly in Daddy romance novels. How realistic were they? Those stories were meant to entertain, not be a how-to manual. Could she depend on the relationships portrayed there to be like real life? She had doubts.

Since he’d asked her something so personal, she returned the favor. She’d see how much he liked being put on the spot. “So, does that mean you’re a Daddy?”

With a wink and a wicked grin, he put a hand over his heart and pretended to gasp. “You couldn’t tell? I must be losing my edge.”

She rolled her eyes. “Given the choice between Daddy and Little, you are definitely Daddy material. You don’t exactly scream Little boy, Viking.”

His eyes glittered. What did that mean? “Watch out, babygirl. Sassy little fairy cats get their bottoms smacked.”

She swallowed hard, squirming in her seat. If her panties hadn’t already been damp, they were now. Without facing him, she asked. “Are you a real Daddy, Law? Not just a Viking?”

She died five times in the seconds it took him to answer.

“I am…”

His hesitation and tone sent her heart plummeting. Why had she pushed? Why couldn’t she have left well enough alone?

Does he already have a Little girl?

Of course, he does. Just look at him. Does he look like the kind of Daddy that could remain unattached in a town of Littles?

Oh god. She needed to pack her backpack and leave his house. She might be ruining everything for him. Some Little, somewhere, was missing her Daddy.

Zane was getting discharged from the hospital today. They’d been planning to pick him up after they finished at Sabre. That could still happen. She’d need to rent a car. Um, she’d need to get some money somehow, then rent a car. She’d figure it out.

Only now she would pick her brother up by herself. They could find someplace nearby, like whatever was on the opposite side of the world from Darling, Tennessee and Lawson Young .

One thing was for sure. She couldn’t deal with any more bad news, so she interrupted him before he could say something that would hurt her heart even more. That particular organ had been beaten up enough for this life and however many more she might get.

“I thought so. You sound just like the Daddies in the books I read. Your Little is a very lucky girl… um, boy… Little. A very lucky Little. So, where is Sabre? How much longer until we get there?”

“Lovelyn,” he said. Not fairy cat. Not Lovie. Cold, formal, Lovelyn.

And his voice. His voice was tender. Painfully tender. Not the voice of her Viking. Not a voice she could listen to without bursting into tears. Which could not happen. That would be the final straw.

She took her hand from his and held it up to stop him. “Nope. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business. I don’t want to know. Red. Isn’t that what you say when you just want everything to stop? That’s what the books say. So, red. Just stop talking. Will Zane be ready to leave the hospital when we’re done at Sabre?”

Silence. Then a sigh. “Yes, Zane will be ready.”

She was so stupid. She never knew when enough was enough. She’d taken a beautiful memory and destroyed it.

She looked at the window the rest of the way to Sabre, trying to think of seeing Zane. Trying to keep silent, wishing for once she could cry.