Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68424 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
He seemed more shocked by my choice of muffins than he had when he’d realized I wanted to date him and Bishop both.
“Um.” Shaking his head like he wasn’t sure what fresh hell he’d fallen into, he swallowed. “What about chocolate chip or blueberry? Fruit is healthy.”
“I think zucchini might be a fruit too.” I couldn’t remember where I’d heard that, but it made Ian’s eyes get even bigger. “I think I read that somewhere.”
“Uncle Cohen…” He reached over and patted my shoulder. “I’ll help pick out the fruits. Can that be my job?”
I was obviously not to be trusted with muffin flavors.
What did it mean for our relationship when he’d let me flog him but not pick out breakfast?
****
“No, I’m serious.” I shook my head at the memory. “Eli opened the box and it was some kind of glitter bomb from a pissed-off ex. Preston didn’t let anyone open mail inside for a month.”
Ian couldn’t seem to decide whether to laugh or sympathize in horror. “Glitter?”
Just the word made me wince. “Everywhere. Eli said he was crazy, but Preston said they were both nuts.”
I shrugged and continued. “I didn’t know the actual details, but it was insane and I was picking glitter out of my hair for a week. The carpet in Preston’s office had to be professionally cleaned three times, and if you look at it in the right light, you can still see sparkly pieces.”
Ian nearly snorted with laughter. “You’re lying.”
“Nope.” I raised my hand and shook my head. “I swear on Eli’s lingerie.”
Giggling, Ian leaned back against the booth and let out a huff. “That’s the most sacred thing to swear on that you know?”
I scoffed, ready for it. “The point of swearing is to let someone know you’re serious and you expect god or nature or something intimidating to smite you down. Eli is the scariest person I know, and he’d kill anyone who destroyed his pretties.”
Ian paused, his head cocking as he considered it. “Alright. I think that’s fair.”
Grinning, I held my hands out palms up in a what can I say gesture. “Check out the floor next time you’re in Preston’s office.”
Snickers of laughter escaped Ian, but they turned into a groan as he looked down at the table and studied the remaining pizza. “I shouldn’t take another piece. I’m stuffed.”
Neither of us needed another piece.
As the honorary Daddy in charge, I was fairly certain it was up to me to save my sub from himself.
“How about we take it home and have it for breakfast?” The question came out before I realized exactly what that would mean…another sleepover.
Little Ian had thought that was perfectly fine and seemed to be indicating he wanted several sleepovers if his breakfast list was anything to go by, but grown-up Ian went very still. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing as I waited…and waited.
“Um, it’s okay to tell me no about stuff I get excited about when I’m little. You know that, right?” His response was so unexpected, I turned into the one who was thinking in silence.
He should’ve been grateful it didn’t take me as long to answer him.
“I understand that, cutie. But I was being genuine.” I gave him a sheepish grin. “I hadn’t really thought about how rude it would be to make assumptions about staying over at your place, but—”
Before I could finish my apology, Ian interrupted, looking somehow both nervous and excited. “It’s not rude.”
Blushing, he lowered his voice as he glanced around to see if his outburst had garnered us an audience. “You can make assumptions.”
When he realized no one was paying us any attention with the low hum of voices that filled the restaurant, he sat straighter and his voice gained more confidence. “Sleepovers are on my list.”
His list.
“That’s right.” There were lots of fun things on his list…and this was clearly at least a strongly worded hint that the list he did for Bishop applied to me as well. “Then how would you like leftover pizza for breakfast, and later in the week, we’ll do the pancakes I promised.”
Talking about another sleepover had his cheeks going pink and he nibbled on his lower lip as he worked through something. It only took a few seconds for him to nod, sending relief through me. “I like that plan…but…but would it always be a little and Uncle Cohen sleepover or…or a grown-up one too?”
Assuming grown-up meant romantic and not like the chaos he and his friends got up to, I tried to project calm and confidence as I answered. “I think spending time with you either way would be fun. Little Ian nights or boyfriend Ian nights, I would enjoy it.”
And he blushed again, but as nervous as he was, he stayed big and didn’t let his nerves paralyze him. “Okay, good. Daddy…Daddy said…he said he wanted me to remind you about the rule.”