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Chapter sixteen

Matty

Two days later I was struggling with everything because we still didn't have any answers, and worse, I couldn’t hide in Daddy’s cabin today.

I found myself standing in front of the closet, staring at my options with growing anxiety.

On one side hung the plain t-shirts and jeans I'd brought from my apartment—adult clothes, practical and unremarkable.

On the other side, the colorful t-shirts with dinosaurs and superheroes that Daddy had ordered for me—clothes that made my Little side feel safe and happy.

My fingers brushed against a soft blue t-shirt with a cartoon T-Rex wearing sunglasses. Just touching it made something in my chest loosen, a small bubble of joy rising despite my anxiety.

"Everything okay in here?" Daddy's deep voice came from the doorway.

I snatched my hand back from the shirt, embarrassed to be caught. "Just...trying to decide what to wear."

Daddy came to stand beside me, his eyes taking in my internal struggle without judgment. "The barbecue is just club members and their families," he said carefully. "No one who isn't safe."

"I know," I replied, still staring at the clothing options. "It's just..."

"Just what, little one?" The endearment slipped out naturally, and I found I didn't mind it.

"What if they laugh at me?" I finally admitted, the fear that had been gnawing at me all morning finally spoken aloud. "If I wear...those." I gestured to the Little clothes.

Daddy's expression hardened slightly. "No one will laugh at you. Not if they want to keep their teeth."

Despite my anxiety, I snorted. "You can't threaten everyone who might think I'm weird."

"Watch me," he said with such calm certainty that I actually believed him. His expression softened as he reached past me, pulling out the dinosaur shirt I'd been eyeing and a pair of comfortable khaki shorts. "Wear what makes you happy, Matty. The club accepts you either way."

I took the clothes from him, running my fingers over the soft fabric. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," he confirmed. "And if it helps, Annabel will be there too. Bolt texted earlier."

That did help, actually. Knowing there would be another Little present made the idea of embracing that side of myself in public less terrifying.

"Okay," I decided, setting the clothes on the bed. "I'll wear these."

Daddy smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made my heart do a little flip.

"Good choice. The T-Rex matches your fierce spirit." Daddy calmly slipped the bathrobe off my shoulders. He hadn’t exactly been a Daddy this morning. He’d helped me shower, but we’d gone in together and that had been utterly amazing.

It never ceased to amaze me just how strong he was, but he could hold me up in there easily, as he’d demonstrated this morning.

Then he hadn’t exactly been a Daddy at breakfast. Sure he’d cooked, and we’d shared the same plate, but as he pointed out, if we were eating the same thing why dirty two?

He used the same argument with the fork, and then because there was only one, he’d fed me.

I got my own glass of milk, though.

I felt my lower lip stick out a bit at that. It had been a plain glass, and I knew for a fact that there’d been dinosaur ones in the cupboard. There was this really cool one where the T-rex’s head and neck were the straw. But that had stayed in the cupboard.

Probably because when Daddy asked me if I wanted it, I’d said no. But he hadn’t asked me about sitting on his lap while he fed me, so why did he make me chose a grown-up glass? It was mean and I could easily sulk if I didn’t have these new clothes to put on.

When we were ready, Daddy turned me so I was standing in front of the mirror examining my reflection.

The shirt was comfortable, and the dinosaur design was cute.

It was a picture of a baby dinosaur sitting in a teacup with the words Tea-Rex underneath.

The shorts fit perfectly, and I realized Daddy must have paid attention to my sizing when ordering them.

I glanced at Daddy. He hadn’t put his shirt on yet, and not that I minded looking at Daddy’s muscles, but I wasn’t thrilled about Sophie seeing them, assuming she would be there.

“What are you wearing?” If he was going in his usual black t-shirt then I was taking mine off. Daddy grinned.

“Didn’t want you having all the fun.” He reached into his closet and yanked a t-shirt off a hanger—yep, black—but then slid it over his head and arms and turned around.

I gaped.

There was a picture of a T-rex with tiny arms and the words, “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your… oops. I stared at the shirt, then met Daddy’s eyes, then promptly burst into tears. Before I knew what had happened, I was sitting bawling into Daddy’s neck.

Daddy's arms wrapped around me immediately, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other rubbed soothing circles on my back.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he murmured against my hair. "Don't you like it?"

I hiccupped, trying to get my breathing under control. "I- l-love it," I managed between sobs. "You got a m-matching shirt."

"Of course I did," Daddy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're a team, aren't we?"

That just made me cry harder, burying my face deeper against his neck.

No one had ever done something like this for me before—something so simple yet so meaningful.

Harold had always been mortified by my "childish tendencies," and even the few Doms I'd dated had treated my Little side as something to be indulged in private, never acknowledged publicly.

But here was Daddy, this massive, intimidating biker, voluntarily wearing a dinosaur t-shirt to match mine, ready to stand beside me in front of his entire club.

"I'm s-sorry," I stammered, finally pulling back enough to wipe at my eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying."

Daddy's thumbs gently wiped the tears from my cheeks. "It's okay to be emotional, little one. Big feelings are hard sometimes."

I nodded, taking a shuddering breath. "Thank you. For the shirt. For...everything."

"You don't need to thank me," he said softly. "Seeing you happy is thanks enough."

I managed a wobbly smile, feeling a calm settle over me. With Daddy by my side, wearing his dinosaur shirt, maybe this barbecue wouldn't be so scary after all.

"Ready to go face the hungry hordes?" Daddy asked, his voice lightening as he saw my tears subsiding.

"Ready," I confirmed, reaching for his hand without thinking.

His large fingers enveloped mine, warm and secure, as we headed out of the cabin.

The compound was already buzzing with activity, the smell of grilling meat filling the air.

Several picnic tables had been set up in the grassy area behind the clubhouse, and children of various ages ran around playing tag while adults clustered in small groups, beers in hand.

I felt a momentary flash of panic as we approached, my grip on Daddy's hand tightening. He squeezed back reassuringly.

"Look who's here," he said, nodding toward a corner where Bolt stood flipping burgers at a grill. Beside him, Annabel sat cross-legged on a blanket, Princess the teddy bear in her lap as she carefully arranged what looked like a tea party.

"Matty," she called out when she spotted us, waving enthusiastically. "Come see. I brought Princess's tea set."

I gave Daddy's hand a final squeeze before making my way over to Annabel, oddly relieved to have somewhere specific to go. As I approached, I could see she had an elaborate miniature tea set laid out on a flowery cloth, with Princess seated as the guest of honor.

"Hi," I said, hovering at the edge of her blanket. "That's a really nice tea set."

"Thank you," she beamed, patting the space beside her. "I brought it special for today. Princess has been asking for a proper tea party for forever. Where are Patches and Bear?"

My stomach dropped. I hadn't brought them because I was worried it would make me look stupid. "I... I left them at home," I admitted, my voice small.

Annabel's face fell for just a moment before she brightened again. "That's okay. Princess can share her friends." She reached into a small backpack and pulled out two more stuffies—a small pink unicorn and a floppy-eared rabbit. "This is Sparkles and Hoppy. They can be your tea party guests."

I settled onto the blanket, accepting the offered stuffies with a surprising sense of gratitude. "Thank you. That's really nice."

"Your shirt is super cool," Annabel said, carefully pouring imaginary tea into tiny cups. "I love dinosaurs too."

"Daddy has a matching one," I told her, feeling a flush of pride as I glanced over to where Daddy stood talking with Bolt at the grill.

"That's so sweet," Annabel squealed. "Bolt never wears matching shirts with me. He says they don't make them big enough for his muscles."

I giggled at that, relaxing further as we fell into the rhythm of the tea party.

Annabel was easy to be around—her Little space seemed so natural, so unforced.

She handed me a tiny cup and saucer, instructing me on the proper way to hold it—"pinky out, very fancy"—while explaining all her stuffies' backstories.

I was so absorbed in our game that I didn't notice the two figures approaching until a shadow fell across the blanket.

"Well, isn't this just precious?" came a woman's voice, dripping with sarcasm.

I looked up to find Sophie standing there, arms crossed over her chest, with a prospect I didn't recognize smirking beside her. The prospect wore his cut, but it looked newer than most of the others I'd met.

"Playing with dollies while the men do the real work," Sophie continued, her eyes fixed on me. "How fitting."

Annabel's smile faltered, her hands tightening around Princess.

"We're not hurting anyone," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And they're stuffies, not dolls."