Page 21 of Daddy's Pride

“And I have an idea for your accommodation problem, Daddy. Two, actually.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I’m no building expert, but I’d agree with your assessment that the hostel needs tearing down.”

I slump my shoulders.

“Which leads me to my ideas.” His eyes shine brightly.

“Go on.”

“You could create a campsite. Make putting tents up a team-building exercise. It would cost a lot less to have bathroom facilities built than to restore or rebuild the bunkhouse.”

I purse my lips. He’s right.

“And when you have more money, you could install some glamping huts for people who want a slightly more luxurious place to sleep.”

I gape at Harris.

His cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. “What?”

“You’re amazing.”

He waves his hand. “Hardly. I’m channelling memories of camping with the Scouts and a school trip to an outdoor centre.”

“I’m grateful for all the ideas. Thank you.” I wrap one arm around his back and use my other hand to squeeze his arse as I kiss him hard.

“Hmm, I’ll have to come up with more ideas if I’m going to get rewarded like that every time.”

“You’ve come up with lots of ideas already.” I kiss him again, more hungrily than before.

He places his palms on my chest and presses against me. “When you first saw this place, what did you imagine, Daddy?”

I look around, my memories of that day coming back. “I hoped I could turn it into a thriving business. I imagined people of all ages running the obstacle course. Perhaps helping each other get to the end. I imagined camaraderie and laughter. More than anything, I wanted it to be a safe space.”

Harris tips his head. “Safe?”

I run my hand through my hair. “I’m not sure what I meant by that.”

“I think you do.”

I laugh. “Then maybe I can’t explain it.”

“Try, Daddy.”

“Somewhere free from bullying. Where people could see their fellow work or classmates in a new light. Where they could gain a new-found respect for each other.” I sigh and shake my head. “That sounds trite.”

“No, Daddy, it doesn’t. Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“What was it like being gay—bi?—in the army?”

“Gay. I came out in secondary school. Big mistake.” I focus on the tree line, blinking repeatedly.

Harris hugs me, clutching my shirt at the small of my back as he rests his head on my shoulder. “You were bullied?”

“Yes. Constantly. It wore me down.”