Let Your Hearts Be Light (Christmas Daddies, #1)

by Fae Quin

“I’m perfectly fucking friendly,” I grouched right back, though I did make an effort to smooth the furrow between my brow as the Bakers finally reached us. I knew I could be intimidating. It came with the size, the muscle mass, and the multitude of tattoos I had etched across my body. I’d also been told I had a “resting bitch face” by my brother Trent on multiple occasions. Whatever that meant.

Big. Thick. Intimidating. With tattoos galore and more salt than pepper in his beard and wavy, sandy-brown hair. I was maybe only a little ashamed to admit he looked like he’d stepped straight off the webpage of the Nice Wood lumberjack porn website that I paid a monthly subscription to.

“Which room do you think is Becca’s?” he asked, like an absolute fucking creep. But he was my creep, so I loved him anyway. “Weird question, bud.”

“I’m not happy.” I stared at him, suddenly unafraid, despite the way his brows lowered and his eyes only grew darker. “If you hate me because I’m happy, then you’re just…” I shook my head. “You’re just completely fucking stupid.” “What?” “I’m not happy, Paxton.” I pointed my spatula at him, my voice wobbling as the words that I’d kept barricaded inside of me since the day my sister died barreled to the front. “I’m absolutely fucking miserable.” My hands were shaking, shaking, shaking. “Now, go wash your fucking hands.” Paxton did as he was told.

Why did remembering the painful, angry bite to his words, the quiver of his lips, the flutter of his wet lashes—why did that make me want to fucking punch something?

We don’t date, I reminded my dick. We’re just a dad. No dating. Right. Oh god, who was I kidding? I would roll over and play dead if Paxton Montgomery told me to.

They were sharing cookies. More cookies. Jesus. It was like the man fucking popped them out like Yoshi eggs.

“I’m gonna go wait in the car.” She was gone a moment later with the soft click of the front door shutting behind her and I couldn’t help but be charmed by how easily she’d read the room. Did she know how badly I wanted her dad? God, I hoped not. That would be awkward as hell.

He had beard burn all over his neck and looking at it made my cock twitch. I wanted to rub all over him, mark him up. Come on his porcelain belly and rub it in. Fuck. I bet he’d eat that up. Bet he’d let me mark his hole too—fill him up till he twitched and shuddered, unable to keep it all in as it slipped down his creamy thighs.

By the time one of his hands wrapped around my throbbing cock I was so far gone I hadn’t even noticed the way I was humping his tongue like a whore.

“I can’t promise everything will go right. That’s not in my power. But I can promise you—whatever happens—I’m gonna be right by your side.”

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Paxton said softly. “But I’m the kinda guy who doesn’t give up when he finds something he wants.” I kissed his thumb again. “I want you, Baxter. I want you when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re worried, when you’re old and gray and covered in wrinkles.”

We picked out the brightest, most obnoxious, yellow mixer in the history of the universe. And that sweet little girl beamed at me like I’d hung the fucking moon. I realized then that it didn’t matter that I’d just met her. Didn’t matter at all. She was mine.

The only thing that would make this better was if I had him decorated in nothing but red ribbon. A gift for me to unwrap. My own fucking Christmas present. The one I’d been waiting for all my life.

My honey bee was a slut for my cock and he made no move to hide that.

“So we’re adopting them then,” Nathan hummed a moment later with glee. “The Bakers?” I asked, my lips twisting into a smile. He nodded. “Yeah, bud.” I grinned. “We’re adopting them.”

He was my constant. The moon that rose every night. The crisp taste of snow in the air before the storm ever hit. He was warm hugs, hot cocoa, and wood shavings.