Page 9 of A Daddy to Love

“Is it Kairo with a K?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft but still heard over the racket.

His eyebrows jumped. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” I looked down at his pink cat. I knew how to be a daddy but had rarely played the part. Now, it came naturally. “What’s his name?”

“Pinkster.”

“Does he like to be petted?”

“I—I don’t know.”

The music pounded. I had to read his lips to make out the words. “You don’t know?”

He shook his head.

I didn’t want to touch the cat if he didn’t agree to it.

“Well, Kairo, I’d love to introduce myself. My name’s Truce.”

“I—I saw you last night.”

“I saw you, too, before you ran away.” I held out my hand.

Kairo looked at it as if he’d never seen a hand before. It took him a few seconds before he reached out and pressed his palm to mine. I gripped his fingers with a gentle squeeze. Our first touch was a formal handshake.

“I didn’t run away,” he protested, clasping my hand.

“No?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “Not really. I needed to go home, that’s all.”

He tried to hide his shyness, which could be annoying with some, but on him it was adorable. Something woke deep within from a place I’d forgotten existed, the space that embraced wonder and longing.

The new feeling skewed my thoughts. I knew how to handle just about any situation. But right now, I had no idea what to say.

Kimmie was still sitting with us, slowly sipping his drink and watching.

Finally, I blurted the first thing that came to my mind. “Would you like to come upstairs and sit? It’s quieter there.”

Kimmie grinned over the lip of his glass. “Sure, we would!”

My smile stiffened. But my gaze swept over both littles. Whatever it took to talk more with Kairo, I’d accept it.

“Great.” I pushed my chair back and stood, offering my hand to Kairo.

Kairo raised his hand to meet mine and I gave a little tug as he stood.

I kept his hand in mine as I led both littles upstairs to the second bar. Older guys tended to congregate up there. My group wasn’t old but none of us were in our twenties anymore, either.

We approached the bar and I turned to Kairo. “Would you like a drink?”

“I would!” Kimmie interjected.

“Of course.”

Kairo’s pupils were still blown from the darkness downstairs. I squeezed his hand, then let go to pull out my debit card. Kimmie wasn’t shy at all. He asked for a vodka lemonade.

I nodded to the bartender.