Page 280 of Daddy's Pride
“Okay. Um, okay.” I nodded, maybe a little manically, and rubbed my clammy hands on my pants. “So, maybe I should call the insurance company?”
Daddy smiled at me. “That’s right, baby. And I can help answer any questions they have if you’d like.”
“Yes, please.”
“You should also let your parents know, if they’re the property owners.”
My stomach swooped, but he was right. “Okay,” I whispered. “Um, yeah. I can do that.”
“I know you can. I’m proud of you. But before any of that, why don’t we go through and make sure you’ve got what you need for the next few days, and see if there’s anything we need to salvage or remove.”
“What I need? For what?”
He frowned. “I told you, sweetheart, you boys can’t stay here during the remediation. It will take a few days at a minimum to dry everything out enough for you to return, and then you’ll need to get a new hot water heater installed and probably get the whole system checked before you’ve got running water again.”
A sick dread filled my stomach, but I tried to breathe through it and be an adult about it all. “Oh. Okay. Um, so… should I get a hotel then? Do I have to pay for one for Jacob and Ryan and Tyler, too, do you think? Because they’ve already paid rent for the month, so it wouldn’t be fair if?—”
“Baby,” he said, cutting me off with another of those stern/tender looks. “Your roommates have already made arrangements. They’ve got places to stay. And I assumed you’d come home with me.”
I stared at him. He did? That kind of made me want to cry… and kind of made me want to beg him to fall in love with me already, as totally and completely as I’d already fallen for him, and then never, ever, ever leave me. Not for the rest of my life.
“Owen?”
I blinked, shoving all that down deep where it wouldn’t burst out during any embarrassing moments. “Um, okay. If you’re sure?”
He laughed, low and gentle, and pulled me in for a kiss. “I’m sure.”
“How long can I stay?” I blurted.
My face flamed. I had not meant to ask that. He’d already said it would probably only be a couple of days until the house was livable again.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean, um, I know you already told me. And don’t worry! If you get sick of me before everything’s fixed over here, I can leave early!”
“I’m not going to get sick of you, baby boy.”
I bit my lip. “You might?”
He laughed. “No.”
“But—”
He covered my lips with a finger. “No.”
I tugged it down. “But what if you do? Because I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I won’t. And if you’re worried about that, then let me make it clear. You will always be welcome in my home. No house disaster required. Always, baby. I want you there for as long as you’d like to stay.”
“That, um, that might be a really long time,” I whispered, my heart starting to pound.
And instead of taking it back, or pointing out that he obviously hadn’t actually meant “always”—at least, not the kind of always that also meant forever—he just smiled as if I’d given him something precious, leaned down and kissed me, and whispered “I hope so” in my ear.
And then did every single thing he’d said he would, sticking by my side as I dealt with the soggy stuff in the house and the insurance company and my roommates and even my parents, too.
And then he took me home.
Well, to his home.
But making him fall in love with me suddenly didn’t seem quite as far-fetched or impossible, and between that and the way the sleepy beagle opened her eyes and gave her tail a happy thump when we walked in, it kind of felt a little bit like it might be okay to dream of it being my home someday, too.