Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I left him to his thoughts, until he finally filled the silence with, “I never thought I'd be anyone's perfect match. What if Fate got it wrong?”
“Fate is never wrong.” Tatum still looked a little insecure, which had my Daddy instincts going haywire. I combed my fingers through his hair to soothe him. “You know how I know?” When he shook his head, I told him, “Because of the way I feel when I'm with you; the way my heart beats a little faster when I look at you, and my hands ache to hold you. My soul knows you, Tatum. It knows it could only be you.”
His expression finally softened into a beautiful smile. “That's how I feel about you, too.” Even though he was human, his spirit still felt the pull to its mate. “But how will this work? You're centuries old and still look amazing. I'll get old and crusty and look like this.” He squished his face with his hands to make wrinkles appear. I tried my best not to laugh because I knew he was serious, but he was so damn adorable I could barely keep it together.
“Once we bond, your aging will slow down and eventually stop. Your body will become immune to natural illnesses, but you can still be injured.” Not that I'd ever let that happen. “And you will inherit my immortality, because I could never live a day without you.”
Tatum's hands left his face and sank into his hair. I felt guilty; I knew I needed to tell him everything, but he was having so much fun and freedom while he was playing, and now I'd taken that away. “I know it's a lot to take in, and I'm sorry to drop it all on you. When you mentioned visiting, I needed you to know this is your home, too.” Of course, the choice was his, and I'd never force him into anything. “I hope you'll want to stay.”
Tatum let go of his hair, and picked up the unmolded lump of purple dough. He mashed it between his palms until it was as flat as a pancake. I could practically see the weight lifting off of him as he played again.
“It is a lot to take in,” he agreed once his orange lump was flat too, “But it is an easy choice. I want to stay with you, Daddy.” With that, he picked up the orange pancake and passed it to me with a sweet smile. “Do you want to play with me?”
“That's an easy choice, too.”
We each formed our dough into shapes, although Tatum's were much better than mine. All I could master was a snake and a donut. I could easily craft full size homes and furniture with my hands, but I lacked Tatum's creative spark.
Once my boy had his fill of making shapes, I put each of the colors into a separate plastic baggie to keep them fresh, though I kept out a small piece of the orange mush. I did have one idea.
I smashed it into a pancake as Tatum did before, and then pressed my thumb into its surface, leaving behind the print. I took my boy's hand and pressed his thumb next to my indentions, so that the prints left behind a heart shape. “What do you think?”
“I love it! Can we let this one dry and put it in our bedroom too?”
The ease in which he claimed the space made my heart soar. Everything I had also belonged to him. “That sounds perfect, baby bear.”
Chapter Seven
Weldon
I placed Tatum's creations on the counter, where sunlight spilling in from the window would help them dry quicker. After storing the rest of the dough in a cabinet for later, I asked him, “How are you feeling?” Though he seemed to be fully cured, I wanted to check on him.
“I feel great! Thank you for making the PlayDoh for me. It was so much fun!” He wrapped his arms around my middle and I hugged him back tightly. “And it was so special to share it with you.”
He made me want to give him the world. While that may be out of my reach, there was something I was excited to show him. I kissed the top of his head and told him, “You're so welcome. Come with me; I have one more special thing for you.”
I took his hand and led him down the hall to a closed door. I gripped the knob and turned to face him. “Over the years, I've been preparing this room, knowing one day I'd share it with my boy. Everything inside is yours.” I pushed the door open, and Tatum gasped when he looked inside - his nursery.
He let go of my hand and rushed into the room, bouncing from item to item, as if trying to take it all in at once. He ran his fingers along the shelf that was stacked with books. He squealed at the toy trucks parked along the wall. He tested the cushion of the rocking chair before hurrying to inspect a container of blocks.