You Can Count On Me (Christmas Daddies, #2)

by Fae Quin

You think you’ve seen everything by the time you hit thirty-seven. But then a familiar tiny blond eleven-year-old shows up at your house just after dark, wielding a baseball bat in one hand and an inhaler in the other. And he threatens you with it—the bat, not the inhaler—until you agree to take his dad on a date, and you realize you were wrong. You definitely haven’t seen everything. Nope. Not even close.

was so goddamn perfect a picture of it should’ve been under “world’s most fuckable ass” in the Guinness Book of World Records. Not that I’d let myself tap that with a ten-foot pole,

“Pops says violence is never the answer,” Bubba quoted again, but his eyes were full of mischief this time. “But Theodore Roosevelt said ‘speak softly and carry a big stick.’ And he was the president, so…” He shrugged as if that explained everything.

His eyes said, thank you. They said, they’re perfect. They said, it’s okay.

“Yes?” Trent tried, his eyes soft. They said, is this okay? They said, I don’t want to scare you. They said, let me help.

I’d never get involved with a single dad because of the commitment. Hell, I wasn’t even involved with Rooster yet and I was already fucking committed. These two lost boys had me wrapped around their little fingers and they didn’t even know it.

Quicker than I could blink, I was halfway to the playground, alarm bells ringing in my head, and anger unlike anything I’d ever felt before burning hot and ashy in my chest. I ate up the distance faster than if I’d been flying, my vision going red-hot with rage. No one touched what was mine and got away with it. No one.

Right now he looked like he was about to murder someone, and I was terrified to find out why. Terrified Bubba was hurt. Terrified—teetering— I couldn’t breathe— I couldn’t find my balance— I was wobbling and I— No. No. Bring yourself back. You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

“Did you just spill milk all over my kid’s fucking backpack?” Trent’s voice was low, dangerous. Calm as a river just waiting to drown you. “No, sir—“

HELL YEAH THATS HIS KID BITCH

I still couldn’t believe what had just happened. What I’d just seen. The fact Bubba had lied—the fact that my worst fears had just been confirmed. The fact Trent had run to his rescue. The fact he’d been here.

Forward, I went. The threat of the future not quite so frightening. Forward. I could do this. I could do this. I could— I spoke. “Thank you,” the words stuttered out, shy and tentative, hidden safe against the soft skin of his throat as I held on tight and let him take some of the weight from my shoulders. “Thank you, Trent.” I moved forward. It was barely an inch, but that was enough.

There was so much I needed to figure out, but that was okay. It was all okay. Because Trent was sunshine, laughter, and broad shoulders. And he might be strong enough to carry us both.

Rooster was solid and warm. Cinnamon sugar. He smelled like cinnamon sugar. I held on tight. And the way he melted against me had my heart racing and my toes curling in my boots. I’d never been so viscerally affected by someone else’s touch. Never felt sick with need, desperate and grateful—like the innocent brush of his lashes against my skin or his soft as sin lips against my throat was enough to make me burst into flames. No sparks. My. Ass. Goddamn fireworks were going off inside me.

This was the first time since we’d met that he’d spoken directly to me. I’d waited for this moment. Ached for it. Ached to hear that voice—sweet as honey, low and melodic. Ached for the words to be mine, and mine alone. Ached to soak up his lilting accent, to memorize every dip and cadence. And now that I’d had a taste, I wasn’t ready to let him go. Even though I had to. Patience, I reminded myself.

“It felt like…falling knowing there was somewhere soft to land.” Huh.

This wasn’t like me. I was a player, a slut, a flirt—all those things. I’d been proud of that too, until recently. Now there was only one bed I wanted to fall into. One body I wanted to sink inside. One mouth I wanted to kiss. One set of arms I wanted to call my home. Paxton’s words followed me all day.

“Sometimes…the meanest kids have got the biggest demons

His eyes said, stay. His eyes said, listen. His eyes said, I have your back. They said, you’re not alone anymore.

“I dunno,” Bubba replied dubiously. “My last plan hasn’t worked yet.” Trent sighed wistfully, glancing right at me when he said it. “Your plan hasn’t failed. I just haven’t earned him yet.” I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.

I’d had to literally turn my phone off and hide it in the bathroom the night before to keep myself from sending him a shit ton of texts just because I was curious what kind of texter he was. Would he be the kind that sent a million short texts in a row? Or long paragraphs? Emojis? Or none?

“Cupcakes,” I gasped, my knees threatening to knock together as Trent chuckled against the shell of my ear and Bubba and Becca drew closer. “Who doesn’t love cupcakes?” Trent laughed, the sound so warm it lit me up from the inside out. Then he blew on my ear, and the magic was lost. I jerked back as he gave my hip a parting squeeze, placed what felt suspiciously like a kiss to the top of my shoulder, and released me. I missed his touch the second it was gone.

Trent made one hell of a partner. So no. He wasn’t the same man he’d been when we’d gone out in September. But I wasn’t either. We were evolving. Into what? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t wait to find out.

I’d stopped questioning my own motives. At first, my own actions had confused me, but at this point, there was no denying the honest truth. I liked spoiling him. I loved it. I loved the faces he made.

“It’s okay, Pops,” Bubba reassured him. “I can be big for you sometimes, if you need it. I don’t mind.” I held him tighter, and my heart broke in two.

They said, help me. They said, help me understand. They said, I’m scared.

I pressed forward, grabbed the sides of his face, and kissed him.

Wasn’t like I was about to tell Trent’s damn mama that the only books I read were ones that had more sex than plot and a whole lot of dicks. Even monster ones. Especially monster ones. With knots.

His eyes said, what are you hiding? They said, don’t you know that doesn’t work with me? I pay too close attention to you. They said, I’ll get it out of you sooner or later. They said, just you wait and see. And then he winked. And I couldn’t help but think about our kiss again—the presence of his mother be damned.

“You said that there was no spark between us.” “I did,” Trent agreed. His eyes were warm as melted syrup over pancakes, and I waited—god, so patiently, for those few tremulous seconds for him to continue. “And I’m an idiot.” He reached for me then, his hand laying on top of mine for the second time that day. “Of course there’s a fucking spark.”

They said, I’m sorry I mistreated you. They said, I’m not perfect. They said, I’m trying. They said, it hurts.

“I’m terrified because you’re everything. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. And for the first time in my life, every action I take is wrong, wrong, wrong. I don’t have sweet words. My silver tongue gets tangled. You make my hands sweaty, and my heart race. I feel like I’m in goddamn grade school when you’re around.”

To say I was surprised when he shared one of his AirPods with me and the filthiest, smuttiest, steamiest gay porn I’d ever heard began to play in my ear would be the understatement of the century.

bet he’d never been touched the way I wanted to touch him. Loved the way I wanted to love him. Appreciated the way I wanted to appreciate him.

“The sass,” I shook my head in disbelief. “I feel like if I told people how sassy you can be sometimes, they wouldn’t believe me.” My heart fluttered. “You don’t like baby, then?” Miles’s whole face grew a shade or two darker as he chewed on his lip. “I didn’t say that.” His eyes smoldered, and my dick gave a needy twitch. Down boy.

If he was jealous that meant…oh. Oh. That meant he liked me. Trent Montgomery liked me!

“I suppose I am,” Trent agreed, not even trying to deny it. “But you’re mine, Miles Johnson, and I’m finding…” “What?” I asked, breathless. “I don’t at all like the idea of sharing you.”

“What’s wrong, baby?” Trent squeezed my wrist again and a whine escaped so quick I couldn’t catch it. “Does looking at me distract you?”

“Robin—my brother—” I added unnecessarily like a socially inept weirdo. “Is Bubba’s bio dad.” “Ah,” Trent hummed. Besides that he remained quiet, leaving me room to speak.

“I know I have my problems, I always have. But I love him more than anyone else ever could. I love my brother too, I really do. But there’s a lot of ways he’s not ready to take care of Bubba. He’s still figuring out how to take care of himself.”

We had different lives, but I never forgot who he was. What he was. How could I? When he’d been the one to hold my hand as I cried after I overheard the phone call that changed everything. He’d been the one that helped me with my homework. He’d been the one that buried me in sand at the beach. He’d been there to pick me up from juvie. He’d made my Halloween costumes. He’d bought me Mcdonald’s when my lunch got stolen. He’d patched up my bloody knuckles, my black eyes. He’d been the one that held my hand as he cried because he had to leave—and he didn’t want me to know. He wasn’t here now, but that was okay. I loved him anyway.

“God, you have the prettiest damn smile I’ve ever seen, you know that?” I stopped laughing, but the smile stayed firmly on my face as I ducked my head, unable to look him in the eye. “Prettier than sunsets over the mountaintops, or dew on grass, or the lake my dad took us to when we were little.”

He traced my smile with his thumb, reverent, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t too self-conscious to keep it. I wanted him to stare. I wanted him to call me pretty again—or yummy—I wanted his attention forever and ever. I wanted him to growl at my phone when someone texted me, for those honeyed eyes to be mine the same way he coveted my smile.

“Why?” Trent stared at me, clearly flummoxed. “I would literally sell my left kidney to get my dick inside your bouncy ass. How is that even possible?” “They just…” My shoulders rose up to my ears. The burning sensation climbed down my neck. “Because of my size everyone just assumes that

“And I am going to fuck you.” A slow, wicked smirk twisted across his lips. “I’m going to fuck you till you’re cross-eyed, big guy. I’m going to make you cry for it. Beg. I’m going to train your ass to twitch every time you catch sight of me. I am going to enjoy every goddamn, gorgeous inch of your body.”

“Because you’re a sweetheart.” He shook his head, brow quirking. “No. You’re my sweetheart,”

“And you deserve to be worshiped. You deserve to have sex the way you want to—regardless of your size.” “W-what?” I managed, staring at him in shocked awe. I didn’t know how to accept this. No one had ever spoken to me this way before. “Why—I—” “Because I said so.” Trent leaned back in his seat, all casual confidence, a lion bouncing a mouse between its paws. “And you’re going to do what I say, whether you like it or not.”

Miles was everything I’d never known I needed. Serious when he needed to be, loyal, protective—and yet…playful, soft, and needy. He was the kind of person that made a house a home.

“I just—get all. Weird. When you’re there. I just. I just—” He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t help but trip and stuff—Mama says my feet are too big or something. I dunno. I really am sorry,” Jeremy repeated, steadily growing pinker. “I didn’t mean to—” he swallowed. “I’m sorry.” And suddenly I understood. Jeremy Collins had a crush. On Bubba. Oh lord.

They said, did I do okay? They said, did I choose right? They said, thank you for being here.

“Big, isn’t it, baby? It has to be. To please a guy like you.” I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.

Girlllllll