Page 5 of Hunting Little Hope
Levi nodded without hesitation, already angling toward the table. “Sure thing.”
Master Lee handed him the clipboard and gave a few quiet instructions I didn’t quite catch. The exchange was quick and efficient.
Then he turned back to me.
“I said I’d join you,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Still okay with that?”
My mouth went dry at the same time my stomach did a huge somersault. Not to mention theotherparts of me that perked up at the thought of spending some more time with the handsome Dom.
This hadn’t been part of the mental script I’d written for myself. Even though hehadoffered to go with me when I signed on the dotted line (so to speak), I’d imagined slipping into the room alone, anonymous, easy to leave if I needed to. Having him there changed everything I had planned.
I hesitated for half a second too long, then nodded. “Yes. That’s… fine, Sir.”
His smile returned, calm and devastating to my libido. “After you,” he said, gesturing toward the open door.
I stepped forward, acutely aware of his presence just behind me as we crossed the threshold. The room smelled faintly of paint, paper and wood glue. Laughter bubbled up from one of the tables.
Even though my hands had gone clammy, and my heart was racing, I told myself I was still in control. Agreeing to this meant nothing beyond curiosity and a slight change of pace.
But as the door closed softly behind us, cutting off the outside noise, I couldn’t ignore the way my heartbeat had picked up.
It was only an hour, I reminded myself.
And Master Lee was coming with me.
Chapter Three
Lee
I saw her before she reached the table.
Shestood out in a sea of beautiful women because she looked composed in a way that felt practiced. Not stiff so much as not completely… genuine.
She slowed when she noticed me.
Most people did it without realizing. A half-step hesitation. It wasn’t arrogance that recognized it when I saw it. It was awareness. I’d learned to pick up on it years ago, the moment when someone clocked authority and instinctively adjusted themselves around it.
Her eyes flicked over me once, quick and thorough, before she smoothed her expression into a polite smile and approached.
Interesting.
When she gave me her name, I felt it land.
Hope.
I didn’t comment on it lightly. Names mattered. And that one carried weight, whether she realized it or not.
When I handed her the clipboard and watched her realize what she’d signed up for, I kept my face neutral. People toldthemselves all sorts of stories at moments like that. Panic. Embarrassment. Denial. I’d learned that giving them space to feel it without judgment mattered more than reassurance.
She insisted she wasn’t a Little.
That, too, was familiar. Hope certainly wasn’t the first person I’d met in my life who was in denial about who they were.
When she agreed to stay, I knew it wasn’t because I pushed. No matter how it looked, I felt it in my bones that this was something she wanted to try. No, something sheneededto experience.
Thankfully, Levi was close by, and I could trust him to handle the sign-in table. His partner, Roland, was working inside the art studio with Gavin, and their Little girl, Sydney, would probably be in her regular classes, as Derek had decreed that the first few days would be for attendees only. This allowed single Ranch residents or people who had come in from outside the Ranch an opportunity to look for a connection.
The art room was already alive with laughter and joy when we stepped in. Long tables with paper laid out neatly, and paint jars arranged by color drew my attention almost immediately. Gavin stood near the front, sleeves already streaked with color, laughing with a small group while Roland worked with another group in the far corner. The atmosphere was intentionally unstructured. Nothing like a bit of controlled chaos to bring more fun to the world.
