by JP Sayle
Stu’s head appeared from the kitchen area. “He left to go and grab some sandwiches. He’ll be back soon, but if you want one, you’ll need to give him a call.” With that, Stu disappeared and I shook my head.
At the angry growl my stomach made, I dug out my phone from my shorts. I’d only opened it when it started to ring. I eyed the number with a sinking heart. Bloody hell, that was fast!
I swallowed hard as I hit the accept button and put the phone to my ear. “Hello, Mum.”
Not giving me the same courtesy of a greeting, she got straight to the point. “What’s this nonsense, Sawyer? How am I hearing about you selling your land and house from our lawyer?”
“He’s no right to breach my confidentiality like that,” I whined, and slouched as I walked back outside, not wanting anyone to witness my humiliation.
“Don’t give me that nonsense. I’m one of the executives of the estate that manages your inheritance. He has every right to consult me when he’s worried my son is making rash decisions.”
“Didn’t you raise me to be independent and take control of my own life? Wasn’t that the spiel you fed me when you left me with strangers to go and conquer the wrongs of the world?” The hurt I’d buried deep inside me came pouring out, my little side coming to the fore as she continued to berate my life choices.
Tears fell uselessly down my cheeks and dripped onto my T-shirt as I stared blindly out at the garden, no longer feeling the warmth of the sun.
“Independent, not stupid, there is a difference. Where are you right now?”
My heart beat erratically as the air got trapped in my chest. I couldn’t get a word out past the misery.
“Sawyer, what are…oh my god, what happened, Angel boy? Did Glenn do something?” The second Boyd saw my face the bags he held were dropped to the floor and he swept me up in his arms, seemingly not noticing the phone at my ear as he continued to fire questions at me.
I buried my face in his neck and sobbed, my hand clutching at the phone as my mother continued to insist I answer her.
I was unsure if Boyd had noticed the phone in my hand or could hear my mother’s strident voice, but the phone was taken from my trembling fingers.
“Hello, who is this? What have you said to upset Sawyer?” The angry demand rumbled up his chest as he continued to hold me tightly against him while talking.
I couldn’t hear my mother’s response, only Boyd’s noncommittal noises. Then the world seemed to whirl by in fast forward mode when he replied.
“We’re at the house now. Yes… Okay… We’ll discuss this fully when you get here.” His voice was firm and the one he used when he was Daddy.
With nowhere to look but up at Boyd, I peeked at him from under my eyelashes. His face showed strain around both his mouth and eyes as the lines deepened. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed.
“I think we should sit down and you can tell Daddy what happened that led up to that call”—he brushed his hand through my hair—“do you think you can do that?”
He sounded resigned but not cross, so I met his gaze. While he still held me cradled in his arms with the warm sun heating my head, I regaled what had happened since he’d left to go to work.
“I thought we were going to discuss the house at a later date?” His question sounded full of frustration, but his hold remained gentle.
“I love your home. This place doesn’t feel the same. I don’t know how else to explain it. This is part of my old dream I had. I have a better reality and I don’t want to swap it.”
His expression went from pensive to exultant in the blink of an eye. He took my lips in a kiss that I felt singing through my veins until I remembered my mother was coming. I muttered against his lips, “You’ll look after me when my Mother comes, won’t you?”
He chuckled, his warm breath filling my mouth. “Am I not your Daddy?” I nodded. “Then stop worrying, I’ll be right there to make sure she listens to you.” Then he sighed and disappointment flooded through me when he moved his mouth away from mine. “This might be a good time to talk about…Glenn with your Mother.”
Although he sounded hesitant, there was something that said this time it wasn’t something I should think about, more something I should do. I reluctantly nodded, knowing it was always best to pull the plaster off a wound in one fell swoop.
With my agreement, Boyd suggested I have half his sandwich, but with my stomach jiving to some music I clearly couldn’t hear, I declined. The time seemed to drag as I listened to the men chat as they sat on makeshift seats eating their food.
When they all headed back inside, I heard a car coming down the drive. I took hold of Boyd’s hand, not looking at him, as I led him around to the front of the house.
Sensing no tension coming from Boyd, I tried to follow his relaxed stance as my mother got out of the car and eyed us both. Her gaze remained on our intertwined fingers before moving to my face.
Something flickered over her face and, for a moment, I thought it was regret before it was gone. When she started to speak, I shook off the thought.
“Now what have you got yourself mixed up in, Sawyer?” Her voice was as strident as it had been on the phone, only now there was an added extra, disappointment.
About to answer, Boyd took half a step forward still holding my hand. “Please do not speak to him like that. There is no need. He has not got himself into anything.”
Boyd seemed to gather himself while I silently cheered him on.
“Shall we take a step back and start again? I’m Boyd, I’m your son’s partner, we are living together in a house I’ve built and paid for with the business I own. Your son is not being taken for a ride. I’m in love with him and will do anything to make sure he is happy.”
When he finished his speech, he held his hand out to my mother who, for once, seemed at a loss for words. Then the hand I held tugged me into his body and hugged me into his side protectively.
If ever there was a moment I’d want to frame it was this right now, right here, where he’d verbally, then silently declared to me that he was my Daddy and was going to take care of the little side of me no matter what.
I blinked back the tears and let him hug me into his side as I took solace from his confidence and faced my Mother knowing, for the first time in my life, that I could be me and that was enough.
Epilogue
Boyd
The feel of my heartbeat thrumming madly against my ribs distracted me as I walked with Sawyer into Flamingo Bar for the first time as members. The place was busy and most of the tables and booths were full. I was glad I’d had the foresight to book a booth for us as we planned to have a meal.
The tension riding through me eased, and my stomach unknotted, when I noticed several men were dressed in outfits similar to the one partially hiding under Sawyers coat. It appeared the setup of the bar and restaurant meant there was no need to hide, with the entrance to the second floor through the underground carpark maintaining complete privacy for all members.
I’d not appreciated that until Sawyer had come down the stairs this evening dressed in a beautiful, pale lilac adult sized baby grow that had sprigs of lilacs in deep purple all over it. He’d taken my breath away when he’d looked at me, his face soft, his expression open and vulnerable as he clutched his blankie. I’d watched him tuck his dummy into his pocket, and instantly known what a big deal this was for him if he required his dummy. It was only used when he was especially anxious or upset by something.
Clearly, he was worried tonight might be more than he could cope with and I’d been in half a mind to say we’d stay home. Then I’d recalled how long it had taken for him to consider if he wanted to go out in public with me as a little, even in a safe space. So I’d not mentioned the dummy and let myself be guided by him as he’d waited for me to put his coat on.
His anxiety had lessened the closer we’d got to the club and been replaced by excitement as he’d chatted about the possibility of making new friends like him.
&nbs
p; The last six months had been a journey of discovery, and there were moments I still couldn’t quite believe this was my life. After all I’d endured with Glenn, I’d acknowledged what I felt for him was a pale imitation of what I felt for Sawyer. The joy he brought into my life was precious, a gift to be treasured.
Glenn had based everything we had on what I could give him financially. That he’d been shocked when he’d come back with fresh threats and I’d not given into his blackmail, might be a slight understatement. My ears had rung for days from the names he’d called me before I could point out that if he outed me, then people would tar him with the same brush. His reputation, the one thing he appeared to think more of, had stopped him dead in his tracks, thankfully. He’d eventually admitted to what he’d done, and why, to avoid a long drawn out court hearing he didn’t want or need. Money was the root of all evil, in Glenn’s case, it was all he could see.
It was water under the bridge and after meeting Sawyer’s parents, I’d understood that it needed to stay that way as they’d struggled to come to terms with Sawyer’s lifestyle. They were not as accepting as my family were and, though I might have been a little hasty in outing myself to them, it meant Sawyer was never worried how they’d react if they called around and he was little. It seemed my sister had taken it upon herself to understand what being little meant and spent a lot more time at the house than she did before.
I shook off the thoughts, wanting to concentrate on Sawyer having a good time. He squeezed my hand and I looked at him. His sunny smile was there but it was tinged with apprehension.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” he asked, his gaze moving back to where the play area had been set up for littles. There were four men knelt around the edge of the makeshift table.
The moveable stage I’d built had been pushed into the far corner of the room and now housed things a child might enjoy playing with. There were books, toys, paints, pens, playdoh and much more scattered across the surface of the wood.
“They’ll love you. Why don’t you give me your blankie, so it doesn’t get lost? And do you want to take your coat off?” When he handed over his blankie but hesitated before letting me help him take his coat off, I had a moment to wonder if he was ready to share his little side with others. I kissed his upturned mouth. “If you don’t want to stay then Daddy will take you home.”
His brows knitted together as he sucked his lower lip between his teeth. “I wanna play.”
“Then go and play. I’ll be right here. Also, remember that when I call you for dinner, you have to come with no messing.”
“Alllllrighhttttt.”
The exasperated response caused me to cough to stop from laughing at his antics. I patted his bottom. “Go on. I’ll get you a juice. Do you want a glass or a sippy cup?”
“A sippy cup, a colourful one.” With that he bounced off, only looking back once.
I stood watching him for long minutes as he sat down on the floor next to a man wearing a similar outfit in dark blue and Sawyer started to point at what the man held in his hands. At home, he tended to like to play on his own and only occasionally invited me to join him to build something with his Legos. Those moments were exquisite. So much so, I’d built a cabinet for the things we’d built together so they could be displayed. Sawyer had cried when he’d come home from work to see what I’d done.
A ball of emotion got caught in my throat, so I headed to the bar.
“Hey Boyd. It’s good to see you,” Scott enthused, his eyes dancing with laughter when he shifted his gaze to where Sawyer was and back to me. “He didn’t waste any time, did he?”
I chuckled. “No, he didn’t. Can you put Sawyer’s coat in the cloakroom for me? I don’t want him to lose sight of me.”
Scott reached out and took it from me. “Cool, I’ll take it. I’ve also situated you both in the booth closest to the play area as it’s Sawyer’s first time.”
I was aware Sawyer had talked to Scott about tonight, and though Theo was his best friend, he’d grown close with Scott and even allowed him to come to the house when he was little, in preparation for tonight.
I glanced back at Sawyer and found him watching me with uncertainty, so I gave him an encouraging smile and pointed to the booth Scott had allocated for us. I mouthed, “I’ll be right there.”
His face brightened and he returned his attention to the table, ignoring the man he’d been talking to and grabbing one of the large colouring books. He stared at a box of crayons near another man. His face showed indecision and I struggled to stay where I was, fighting the need to go and get what he wanted for him. It had become such an ingrained habit to look out for his little I hardly noticed myself doing it.
When the man nudged the crayons towards Sawyer and offered him a shy smile, Sawyer gave him a meek look in return before picking up the box.
I rubbed at my chest, feeling the love blooming inside me. Each day it seemed to get bigger, bolder, to the point I wasn’t sure I’d be able to contain it all.
How could an overheard conversation and a job, change a person’s whole life?
Does it matter?
A smile spread over my face as Sawyer bit his lip and wiggled his bottom, once more casting a glance in my direction. At seeing me, he grinned and went back to colouring. The answer was obvious. No. There was nothing that mattered more than making Sawyer happy and I wouldn’t change that for the world.
Coming December is the third book in this series… Can you guess which boys will get their turn next? Check out my website to find out!
If you’re interested in reading something different by the author read on for the first chapter in Dominated but Not Subdued (book two) La Trattoria Di Amore Series!
Carl glanced around his restaurant. The beautiful room filled him with a sense of pride. The tableware gleamed under the lighting. The vibrant, bold Italian prints used for the tablecloths, chairs, and curtains stood out against the stark white walls and dark wooden tables. Subdued tiny pink lights embedded in the ceiling took away from the harsh white and gave the room a dreamy quality.
It was perfection…if only he didn’t have interviews today. He sighed. Why did he do this to himself?
Interviewing for staff was one of his least favourite things to do.
He fidgeted in his seat next to Sebastian, who sat sipping his espresso, giving him a hard stare.
“I hear your mind whirring all the way over here. That guy was a total loser. Who turns up dressed like that? He burnt the lenses right out of my eyes with that bloody day-glow top.” Carl shivered and rubbed at his eyes for effect. “Whoever told him orange was back in fashion needs shooting.”
He glanced at the next application form, doing his best to keep the laughter inside. Ever since they’d become partners in the restaurant, Carl had worked hard to loosen Seb up a little.
His gaze skimmed down the CV and the accompanying letter Adam Grainger had submitted. It was well written, and on paper, the guy looked like he was worth an interview. But still, he was a baby. Knowing he could use this to get a rise out of Seb, Carl schooled his features.
“Dear God, why have you printed this one off? He’s a fucking baby, for Christ’s sake. How does a nineteen-year-old know how to manage shit all? I bet he woke up one morning, saw the advert, and thought, ‘oh I can do that.’ Every applicant we’ve had has been clueless.”
“Carl, everyone is too young as far as you’re concerned. Since you hit forty, it’s like you think you’re over the hill and everyone else is an infant. What were you like when we interviewed for the wait staff? I’ll tell you. You acted like you were older than God,” Seb huffed.
Carl looked up, pointing at Seb. “You wait till you hit forty. Then tell me you aren’t looking at all these young whippersnappers and feeling every one of your years.”
Carl bowed his head, finished reading, and then placed the application down. He glanced at the wall clock. “He’s late, so that’s a strike…”
“Hello. Is there an
yone back there?”
A head popped around the partition separating the main restaurant from the reception. The man stepped forward, continuing, “There’s no one manning the desk, and I’ve been waiting for ten minutes.”
His enquiry was directed at Carl, who slouched in the booth, well aware the man was letting them know he’d heard their conversation.
Adam Grainger—because who else could it be—walked towards the booth, without waiting for an invitation, and stood looking down at Carl and Seb.
Seb stood. Carl paid him no mind, feeling a little flustered at having been caught unawares.
Seb held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Sebastian Smythe, owner of La Trattoria Di Amore, and this is part owner and head chef Carl Bentley.”
Carl, who remained sitting, ignored the raised brow Seb aimed in his direction, and the “get up off your backside” glare.
Seb’s clenched jaw, Carl’s surmised, was because of his lack of acknowledgement and apparent display of rudeness. But Adam Grainger had poleaxed him, and Carl wasn’t convinced his legs would hold him up, so he remained sitting.
“Sorry, I should have sent someone to check you’d arrived. We’re running a little behind because we are prepping for the evening dinner service.”
Seb offered Adam a seat. Doing his best not to show how ruffled he was, Carl shuffled the papers with the interview questions laid out in front of him. He tried to get his mouth to work, but fuck, he’d all but swallowed his tongue. Adam Grainger was a total wet dream. The fitted dove-grey suit and pale pink shirt open at the collar highlighted a lean body. Cropped dark hair streaked with blond highlights framed his stunning, golden face. Pale green, luminescent eyes reminded him of the sea in the Caribbean, while his full pouty lips made him consider if Adam would be as sweet and juicy as a ripe peach. Those full lips hid a perfect set of pearl-white teeth. Were they veneers?
The thought fled under the full impact of the flirty smile, which showed two little indents in Adam’s cheeks. Carl all but groaned out loud at how his body reacted to the idea of licking those two little dimples.