Page 12 of Self Expression (The Lactin Brotherhood #15)

LINCOLN

Three months after that night in the elevator, Enzo invited me to move into his house.

The ceilings were higher and there was a lot more space in his ranch house, but it immediately felt like home.

Because my Daddy was there.

Sometimes I’d wake before the alarm so I could get my morning milk before Daddy was fully awake. At least, he pretended to be asleep as I latched on and curled into him, wrapping his light chest hair around my finger and just enjoying the quiet with him.

The sheets were navy and not exactly my style, but I loved how the color made Enzo seem like a god of the ocean. Claiming his space in the dark sea with me at his side. Or on his chest.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Daddy’s voice was always the first thing I heard in the morning and I loved it. It was all I truly needed to start my day with a smile.

And when we drove to work together, we chatted about our days, and more importantly, our nights before we had to get into professional mode.

But there was one bright spot about going to work.

Every time we got in the elevator at our office, we grinned at each other. That was the elevator where it all started. Where we were forced to bond in the most intimate way. Where we shared an experience that we likely wouldn’t have found any other way.

But we did. We found each other and came together like magnets and steel. Yin and yang. Milk and cookies.

And when I got out of the elevator every morning, I kissed his cheek and whispered the words that meant more to me than any others in the world. “I love you, Daddy.”

And then I heard the words that I lived to hear back. “I love you too, baby. Have a great day.”