Page 18 of Layla's Daddy
I nod. “It’s so yummy.”
He beams and offers me another bite.
I take it, unable to keep from grinning as I savor the taste. He’s right. It’s the best soup ever. And I love the way he’s holding my hand. Does he know he’s stroking my knuckles, too?
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you, Little one?” Daddy asks as he continues to feed me.
I shake my head. “How old are you?”
“Forty-five. How old are you, Little one?”
“Thirty.”
“Am I too old for you?” he teases.
I giggle. “No, silly. You’re just right.”
When the bowl is empty, I’m kind of sad, partly because it was so tasty but also because I liked him feeding me.
“You can have more later, Baby girl,” he tells me as he stands and takes the bowl to the sink. “I know your bottom hurts. I think you’d do better with another bottle and then another nap.”
Daddy pulls a bottle out of the fridge next, twists off the lid, and puts it in the microwave for a few seconds. I noticed there were several bottles in there. Apparently he intends to feed me often.
A few hours ago, I was shocked and nervous about taking a bottle. Now I’m eager.
Daddy sets the bottle on the table, tips my chin back, and gently wipes my face with a wet cloth. “There we go.” He removes the tray and unfastens me before lifting me onto his hip again.
After snagging the bottle, he carries me back upstairs.
“I’m too heavy for you to keep carrying me,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “Not even close, Little one. You’re like a feather.” He heads for his own bedroom this time, and I notice there’s an oversized recliner by the window. We fit perfectly in it with me on his lap.
Daddy leans me back in his arms and brings the nipple to my mouth.
I stare at him and hold his forearm while he feeds me. I’m overcome with joy. I want this to be real and long-lasting. For at least today, all my problems have poofed into thin air.
When I first ran into him and landed on my ass, slamming my head onto the sidewalk, I thought my life was over. Not literally. It’s just that I knew in an instant I was going to lose more time working and probably my apartment.
I’m a hard worker, and I’ve managed to scrape by all my adult life. I’ve never been as close to homelessness as I felt this morning. I still don’t know how I will be able to pay the rent next month or the electric bill, but for today, I feel peace.
Chapter Eight
It’s dark out when I wake up confused. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am. When I glance toward the light on one side of me, I squint. It hurts.
Theo is standing next to the bed again. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s woken me up to check on me. “Sorry, Baby girl. Does the light hurt?”
I nod and squeeze my eyes closed.
“There, how about now?”
When I peek, I see he’s tipped the lampshade so that the bare bulb isn’t in my eyes.
Daddy sets a palm on my forehead. “You feel a bit warm, Baby girl. Are you hot?”
“No.” I don’t think I am.
He sets his knuckles against my cheek, frowning. “Might just be from snuggling under the covers. I’ll check your temperature to be sure.” He leans over to look into my eyes, holding my chin. He does this every time, checking my pupils.