If Only In Our Dreams (Christmas Daddies, #3)

by Fae Quin

For anyone who needs a little extra Holiday magic.

In a way, he reminded me of a sculpture I’d seen at a gallery in New York. Immortalized in glass, a crushed flower petal had sat on display for the world to ogle. It had been delicate once. Before its destruction had been celebrated. Perfect from a distance, in the way only the truly manufactured can be, but when you moved in close, its history became evident.

And…in a way, that perfection made him terrifying. Because he made my pulse thrum like it never had before. He made my belly fill with butterflies.

Because…while my bubble remained small, today I had learned that it was still large enough to accommodate a tiny, black-clad emo twink.

I hadn’t meant to say it—it had just slipped out. It was like when he was around, my body and mouth betrayed me.

He was so damn pretty it was distracting.

“You’re not fucking it up,” he disagreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re just…super fucking awkward dude. But in a cute way. I mean…the photo album was pretty extra, but I super appreciate it.” “I don’t want to be creepy.”

Robin laughed—all scratchy soft—and it was the prettiest sound I’d ever heard.

Robin grinned. “Big hands, big dick, not afraid of gay sex, would wear nail polish, writes smut, and is a doctor.”

I’d get to see him. A lot, apparently. And I was…embarrassingly excited about that.

But still—I could look at him and think that, couldn’t I? In the privacy of my own head. It wasn’t illegal to want to climb him like a tree.

“He’s talking about the Christmas decorations,” Ben explained, sexy ass mind-reader—because of course, he’d seen exactly what I had. What a babe.

He was so…happy here. I was terrified of ruining that. Like poison, I tainted everything I touched.

“I’m poison. That’s just what I do.”

But it felt, in a way, like I’d accidentally adopted him. Like he was a duckling that had imprinted, and was finding any excuse to come see me. And I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. You find it adorable, Ben. Don’t play coy.

Laugh lines. These were laugh lines. And they were…fuck. Ben Montgomery was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

He looked at me like he found me fascinating.

Praise kink. He might have a praise kink. My head spun. Stop thinking about his kinks, Ben, and feed him. He looks hungry.

And when he glanced up at me, grin softer than before, a private, giddy thing, I decided right then and there that I would make him smile like that as many times as I possibly could before he went back home, my dignity and dislike of the holidays be damned.

“Don’t you mean, hang on tight spider monk—eeeeeeee!” My screech turned into laughter as the sled pushed off and the world blurred white.

The problem with having a trashmouth is that sometimes garbage comes right out.

Because if there was one thing that had just become obvious to me it was the fact that Robin was my kryptonite.

Music was poetry. Just with vibrations and a whole lot of extra soul. It could make you feel things with no rhymes and no words at all.

“He’s the least scary person ever. Man’s a giant teddy bear.”

“When you’re tired of running, this is a pretty good place to stop.”

“You’re so good to me,” he countered, like that was a miracle. “You deserve to be treated well,” I replied.

“Good things are worth hurting for.

“Focus on the good,” she said, tone soft. “That’s the way to live.”

Robin was my catnip. He made me laugh the way no one ever had before. He brought out emotions I hadn’t even known I could feel. He made my heart feel light, my hands sweaty. He filled my belly with butterflies every time he smiled. And when he was sitting next to me, the rest of the world ceased to exist. All its what-ifs and worst-case-scenarios completely gone.

When I was with him, all the years before him melted away. Like there had only been him all along, I just hadn’t known it yet. And for the first time in my life I was beginning to wonder if love at first sight existed outside of fairytales.

Ben Montgomery was warm dinners, late nights, and laughter. He was solid, and sure, and dependable. He was the sun rising every morning, and the moon at night. He was caring and predictable in the way only truly good people were.

In his bed, I wasn’t poison. I was just me. And he was Ben.

“You just need someone else to take care of you for a change.” Ben kissed me gently and I cried my agreement against his mouth, a wet little hum that I knew was probably more gross than sexy, but Ben didn’t complain. “That’s okay,” Ben murmured, unfazed by the tears. “That’s okay. I’m here. I’m here now, sweetheart.” He kissed me again. “I’ll take care of everything. So that you can rest.”

Maybe that was love. Accepting that one day you might lose the person that made your heart full, but choosing them anyway.

I’d never expected to find a partner. I’d never looked. And yet, one had stumbled upon my little nest and found me anyway. It seemed the universe was looking out for me because Robin was the happiest accident I’d ever made.

“I’m your favorite person?” Robin asked, voice tiny and sweet. “Of course you are,” I said honestly. “You’re my Robin.”

“Teddy bear,” Robin accused against my mouth, muffled and awkward and perfect. “Only for you,” I promised, because it was true.

“You’re my sunshine.”

I wondered how someone so wonderful could be real at all. And how he could love me. Because he did. I’d have to be blind not to see it.

“That was so sweet of you,” he rumbled, lips curved into the private, special smile that felt like mine and mine alone. “Thank you, baby.”

And I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. And I was scared, scared, scared.

“Robin is kinda like a cat,” Rosie replied, shrugging. “And I don’t have to clean up poop.” “And he sings too,” Jane interjected. “And he’s funny.” “And he makes you smile,” Rosie added on, like that was the highlight of it all.

He reminded me of a crow in a way, collecting small shiny things for later. I had no doubt every rock, every shell, every penny had a memory attached. It was fitting that crows were his favorite animal.

“There’s always gonna be people that’ll make you feel like you gotta change so that you can fit in.” His hand squeezed again, so impossibly large and gentle. “And you’re gonna have to make a choice. Whether you’ll be the kind of man who is who he is—or the kind of man who is who they want him to be.”

A life without Ben Montgomery was not a life at all.

“I don’t think I was ever happy till I met you,” I admitted, voice cracking down the middle. “Like the ‘me’ from before, and what I felt, was duller somehow.”

“But you won’t hurt me,” I managed, surprised by how sure I was as the words come out. “You won’t.” “I won’t,” Ben agreed—a promise. “Because you’re Ben Montgomery.” “I am.” “And you always keep your promises.” “I do.”

“I adore you,” Ben said, the words his eyes had been telling me for weeks.

“You’re perfect,” he promised, quiet enough I wasn’t sure I was even meant to hear. “You’re so perfect.”

I felt precious then. I felt good. But even more than that…I felt loved. All my wiry, sharp edges. All my freckles, my moles, my frown lines. My protruding ribs, and mistakes I’d made nothing but things that made up the person Ben Montgomery adored.