Page 30 of Operation Daddy

July shook his head.

Fletch gave him a sharp nod. “And I never will. Don’t question your worth ever again. You deserve every good thing that happens in your life. When I say I love you, I mean it, okay? I love you.”

Tears welled in July’s eyes. He swiped them away. “Ignore me. I’m just being weepy after sex.”

Fletch rolled and tucked July into his embrace. He kissed July’s forehead again. “Do your thing. I’ll be here, soaking up all the affection and the feeling of holding you. As long as I have you, I’m good. I’m pretty sure you’re just my oxygen at this point.”

July smiled like an idiot against Fletch’s chest. “We should get married.” July snapped his teeth together so hard, they clacked. He took a horror-filled breath. “I can’t believe I just said that.” He sounded every bit as shocked as he was.

While he steeped in his horror, Fletch acted as if July talked about marriage every day. “You’re right.” Fletch sounded matter of fact, as if they spoke of what to eat for dinner. “You deserve the protection of a marriage license. If anything should happen to me, I need to know you’ll walk away with everything I have. I need to know you’ll be completely cared for after I’m gone.”

July still reeled. He didn’t know what shocked him more: his proposal or Fletch’s calm willingness. “Um, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

Fletch pulled away enough to meet July’s stare. “Are you taking it back?” He looked scared as hell that July might want to forget this conversation. July couldn’t have that.

“Of course not. I just can’t believe I’m the one who introduced the topic. It’s crazy, really. I mean, six months ago, the idea of me getting married sounded like a nightmare. Marriage sounded like an even more secure prison. Now I’m here with you and I want those invisible bars so badly, I can barely breathe.”

By the time he finished, Fletch wore a huge grin. “That’s settled, then. We’ll go tonight and get you a ring.”

If July had been standing, he would have jumped up and down. His mind already raced, picturing pretty dresses and shoes. Bright colors and champagne. Beautiful flowers. “We’re really doing this.”

Fletch’s expression went from ecstatic to filled with love in an instant. “We’re really doing this.”

Emotions washed over him. He had never expected to find this in his lifetime. Now Fletch made all his dreams come true. He had to find a way to do the same for Fletch. July needed Fletch to feel the way he made July feel. Everything else in life floated away. Fletch was everything now.

Chapter Thirteen

With July on his shoulders, Fletch tapped his foot. July had been trying to pick the perfect apples for like twenty minutes. He had seen people take less time choosing a house to buy. July wasn’t the least bit heavy. Fletch was just irritated. He had his feet planted, a wicker basket over one arm, and the delicious smell of whatever scent July wore lingering in his nostrils. He was hard with no way to hide it other than trying to keep the basket held just right. None of this would be a problem if he felt free to touch July the way he wanted. It should be illegal to want someone so badly. The thing was, July was too sweet to manhandle. He was someone who deserved to be spoiled and protected from the ugliness of the world. July needed to be petted and handled with care. He had spirit Fletch would kill to keep safe. July was a frolicker. A dreamer. He had a beautiful soul. Fletch was none of those things, but he had Fletch on the edge.

“Whoa,” July windmilled.

Fletch grabbed July’s thigh and steadied him. “I’ve got you. You won’t fall.”

July cupped his head and leaned forward. He pecked Fletch’s nose with a quick kiss. “You’re the best.” He stared at Fletch upside down, making Fletch grin like an idiot. “Can we try a different tree?”

Goddamn it. “Your wish is my command.”

July kissed the tip of his nose again. This time, the air changed. July pulled away a little slower.

Fletch’s hand moved of its own accord, stroking July’s thighs. It was as if the world held its breath while they stood on the precipice of something unnamed.

“You’re gorgeous from every angle. It’s actually pretty unfair.” July straightened and fell into a monologue about how he had to wear makeup while people like Fletch just rolled out of bed, perfect.

Fletch didn’t hear half the words. It took him a second to suss out his feelings. The truth hit. He was disappointed. Fletch wanted more, and he didn’t even know where to start. July was so different from everyone else he had ever dated. All he could do was yearn. He couldn’t see a path to the next level. July needed to make the moves. Otherwise, Fletch would always wonder if he had manipulated him.

No one understood how irritating Fletch found Sammie’s constant presence at The PlayPen. He made a point of always being nearby, throwing a fit. Fletch had really thought the guy would be tired of this by now.

July kept glancing Sammie’s way. Fletch didn’t know if July knew Sammie was his ex. He hadn’t told him. July had a good heart and would likely think less of Fletch for leaving the guy so distraught. In truth, Fletch did feel guilty. Sammie wasn’t a bad person. He just wasn’t Fletch’s person. If Sammie would stop the dramatics, he could easily pluck a new daddy from the club’s selection. All the men there looking for a Little were wealthy. Sammie could snag one and live a life of luxury. He didn’t understand why Sammie kept up this game. Surely he knew by now July was Fletch’s man.

July pushed away the heels he had been mismatching all night and stood. Before Fletch knew what he would do, July sat with Sammie. For once, Fletch wanted to be a Little and throw himself on the floor. He couldn’t say anything, and there was no telling what Sammie would tell July. He couldn’t hear what was said. July kept glancing his way.

After a few minutes, July waved for Fletch to join them.

A groan rang through Fletch’s head. He couldn’t ignore July. With all the reluctance, Fletch stood and joined the pair. The moment his ass hit the floor, July moved to his lap.

July didn’t give him time to ask questions. “This is Fletch. Fletch, this is Sammie.”

He didn’t know. What the hell was Sammie playing at? “We’ve met. It’s nice to see you again, Sammie.”