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

by Fae Quin

I mean, who does that? Just fucking commandeers another dude’s bicep? Me, motherfucker, that’s who. In my defense, it was a very nice bicep.

Covered in glitter, with eyeliner old enough it should have its own driver’s license, I’d just kinda…die. Shut down. Staring, staring, staring. And that staring never stopped.

Stranger made this loud snorting sound that should not have been cute, but totally fucking was. He straightened, on high alert, his toffee-colored eyes blazing.

I grinned, ducking my head, catching his gaze with a conspiratorial wink. “I’m flattered.” He relaxed a little, relieved when he realized I wasn’t offended. “You’re old but you—” he fidgeted, “I really like the way you play guitar.” You’re old. Damn kid, goin’ right for the kidneys.

He looked pissed off still, his brow twitching as he stared at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of his face. It was the same face he’d given me when I’d boarded the plane and taken the seat next to him.

Before I could respond, tall, gorgeous, and apparently awkward-as-hell, turned on his heel and strode as fast as he could, as far from me as he could possibly get.

Because he made my pulse thrum like it never had before. He made my belly fill with butterflies. He made my palms slick with sweat. Made me want to pull him to my chest, tuck a blanket around him, and let him take a nice long nap.

Because…while my bubble remained small, today I had learned that it was still large enough to accommodate a tiny, black-clad emo twink. An emo twink that I was going to need to find, so that I could properly apologize. And perhaps…maybe thank for reading my book. Which I still couldn’t believe had really happened. It felt surreal at best.

I laughed—way too loud. My shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten that tense—fuck.

“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.”

Poor baby needed gloves or a warmer coat if he was going to survive Vermont.

His overcoat—over jacket, really—slid open a little, enough that I caught a glimpse of his nipples. And god…fuck. They were pierced too. Made me want to pull on them just to make him yelp.

Men often made comments about my hands when I had my fingers inside them. Not that I thought that was an appropriate thought to share. “Bet they feel real good inside somebody,” Robin mused thoughtfully. I choked. “I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “Bet your cock’s big too.” “Jesus Christ.” I pinched my eyes shut, face bright red.

“A doctor?” 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.

At least…I assumed he had—based on how many smiles he’d flashed my way, and the sudden lack of smiles now. Like he’d saved that sunshine just for me. He was different now, just like I was. His body language was stiffer.

That meant that my assumptions had been correct. And Trent was a good man. Good enough he’d made Miles drop his guard.

“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.

I jolted the second the chill bit into my skin, turning toward my now-open door with surprise. Ben waited there, cheeks bright red. He looked…fucking cute, I’m not gonna lie.

Beneath that, however, there was a confidence to him that I couldn’t help but admire.

When it swung wide and Miles’s broad frame filled the doorway I only had a second to process what was happening before my feet were off the ground and I had a face full of giant-little-brother-chest. He squeezed me so tight I felt my back pop.

Miles rolled his eyes and grinned at me. Easy as that, all my doubts fell away, and I couldn’t believe for a single second that he hadn’t wanted me here. I could see it all over his face just how happy he was.

“Where’s Bubba?” I asked, two man-shoulders smushing me. Jesus fuck, I was surrounded by giants.

Bubba had a poster in his hands, glitter sliding off of it and sluffing onto the floor as he held it high above his head. His head whipped around as he searched the crowd for me aaaand—the second he saw me his entire fucking face lit up. Like Christmas.

Welcome back, Uncle Dad Robin. Dad Uncle Robin. Duncle Robin. Robin the First. Duncle Robin the 1st. Duncle Robin the 1st, the coolest duncle in all the land.

You can bet your ass I squeezed the fuck outta the goddamn kid. And all the while, I felt the heat of Ben’s eyes on me. Warmer than his hand had been. They burned.

“You swear lots,” she told me sagely. I nodded because I did. “You owe me lots of monies.” Ah. So this was Rosie. Ben’s daughter.

Beatrice stared at me, amused. “You are a wild one,” she decided after a moment as Rosie grinned evilly down at her money, like a fucking black-frill-wearing Scrooge.

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

I was only here for the holidays. This wasn’t my home. I knew that. But what if…what if it could be? Was there room for me here?

“Better?” Ben asked. “Not really. You’re still fucking huge, dude.” Ben laughed, and the sound lit me up all over again. It was weird. I didn’t often like people, not like this. He was…nice.

“Sorry, I deflect when I’m nervous,” I admitted, my mouth suddenly dry. Ben softened, his surprise melting away as he nodded. “Me too.”

“I’m happy.” I sniffed, the alcohol getting to me. Or maybe it was the sleepless nights. The loneliness.

Normally, when I was well-rested my mind was a steel trap. But the eggnog had whittled away my walls. Or maybe that was Ben’s influence. Ben and his observant, gorgeous eyes. Ben and the fact that he was quiet enough to hear me, even when I whispered.

oh, i LOVE this.

The door slid closed behind him with a click, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, suddenly oddly self-conscious of my space. It felt far too small with him in here. Too plain. What I’d once felt was a practical room, now felt bland.

heart fluttering like crazy as Robin crossed the distance between us and sat right on the corner of my desk like this was a totally normal and not at all invasive thing to do.

My hands felt sweaty, his close proximity lighting me up all over again. I’d thought I’d made that up. My reaction to him. But I hadn’t.

There was a manic glint in Robin’s eyes, exhaustion apparent all over his face. He’s lonely. “Robin,” I said gently, and he deflated immediately, wilting like a popped balloon.

“Holy fuck. I always wanted to go sledding.” “Do you want me to go with you to these things?” I stared at him, curious.

Figured he didn’t need to know that I’d seen black spots. That the world had swum and swum. That my knees had buckled while I was admiring what was left of Matilda’s aged Halloween decor, and I’d woken up covered in dust with a plastic skull staring at me.

Thwack, I slammed the bone into Ben’s ass again. Just to see what he’d do. Because he’d threatened me. And I kinda wanted him to follow through.

His eyes were liquid caramel, warm as a bonfire. Looking into them sent a shiver up my spine, even though I still felt small and miserable and cold.

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

“Oh my god,” I repeated, hopping up and down in excitement. “Oh-my-god. I could go sledding!” Shit. “I need a sled. Where do you buy a sled? Is there a store for that?” That excitement, however, was short-lived because I realized that I’d successfully distracted Ben from his job—and now it was snowing—and there was no way he was going to be able to finish the skeleton now.

If I didn’t know any better—based on his current speed—and the fact that he was still able to maintain an entire conversation, Ben Montgomery had been stalling earlier. Just like I had. Oh shit. My heart beat like crazy.

“Would you like to maybe…come?” “I always want to come,” I joked—then flushed because I realized what I’d said too late to stop the words. “I mean, yes. Please, Sir Bennington. Allow me to rideth your sledeths with your clan.” I saluted him, then waited for orders. “I don’t knoweth where Knoll Parketh is, but I will findeth out.”

omg, i'm dying hahahaha

Robin laughed, stumbling way more than he probably should’ve. My eyes narrowed,

Mama laughed, the merry sound warming me from head to toe. “Alright,” she hummed, obviously amused.

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.