Page 18 of Wanted: Unwavering Daddy

I wasn't really looking to have my ego stroked, but Will was doing it whether he meant to or not. Helping someone like Roland start his own endeavor was so much more satisfying than my real job. As much as I wasn't looking for a compliment, it didn't suck to know that Roland was pleased with what we'd discussed so far. It didn’t suck at all.

“Daddy?” he asked, jerking me back to our conversation and away from that itch I felt to do something different and more satisfying.

“Oh, sorry, boy. What I'm saying is, what if I helped you launch your own interior design business?”

His eyes widened. “What?” he asked softly.

Since this was an idea I'd been pondering for a while, I knew it would take him a moment to catch up with me. Sitting up straight, I leaned against the headboard and arranged him next to me. “What I'm proposing is that you allow me to do all the same things for your new business that I’m doing for Roland. Including an initial investment.”

“But…why would you do that? You already?—”

“None of that. This would be yours. You’d be responsible for the books, inventory, marketing, all of it. I’d help you, of course. And as your Daddy, I’d be happy to take on some of those tasks for you, but only if you ask me to. It’ll be your business.”

And I wanted this for him. All I’d ever wanted was to help my boy's dreams come true.

Will

You knowthose things that you only allow yourself to think about in the middle of the night or when you're all alone? Those things that maybe, just maybe, you’ll discuss with your closest and bestest friend? There was a possibility that the last time I video chatted with Timothy that I told him I was having so much fun helping Hayden with his nursery that I wished I could do stuff like this all the time. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it could be my job, and I’d make money. I’d do it for free as long as someone let me loose.

Timothy had asked me why I couldn't? Why didn't I feel like it was an option for me? I was only realizing now that Timothy had probably been thinking of me doing it as a career andgetting paid, whereas I’d thought his question was odd. Like, who let people walk into their homes and design them? A paying customer, that was who.

“Boy?” John asked, tugging on a lock of my hair.

“I'm scared that I’ll suck at it,” I answered honestly.

John bestowed me with one of his fond smiles, the one special for me and his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “In the eight years we've been together, you've never sucked at one thing you put your mind to. I know you've taken on this persona of being footloose and fancy free, but, boy, I know how much work it takes to run our calendar of social events for my firm, how often you go help out at the outreach center, how often you run around visiting your friends, making sure to check in with each and every one. I know you like people to think it's you just being frivolous with your time, but I know you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know how much these relationships mean to you. I know how much you never want your friends to feel alone and invisible,” he said.

Invisible like I'd felt my whole life growing up. My eyes misted over and I blinked hard to fight back the moisture. “You knew what I was doing the whole time?” For years, I hadn’t even realized I was doing that. John saw me like no one ever had, not even myself.

“Of course I did.” He stroked his finger down my cheek and I tilted my head, letting him cup my cheek in the palm of his strong and capable hand. I was safe here.

“If I'd really thought you were wasting your days, I’d have strongly suggested that you get a job of some kind a long time ago. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you’d grown bored. I missed that somehow.”

Good grief. He took so much on his shoulders. He was capable, but he couldn’t read my damn mind. “No, Daddy. You didn't miss anything. I didn't want you to know. Like I said before, my life is just so blessed, I didn't feel like I had a right to complain.”

“You're not throwing a temper tantrum or anything now. Wanting more, wanting to feel fulfilled is normal. And getting paid to share your talents with the world, that's not you being greedy. It's called loving what you do for a living. That's something that everyone should strive for.”

“Even you?” I challenged, seeing an opportunity to make the point I’d been trying to hammer into his thick skull for months. I swear, he had Daddy-brain. Always so hyper aware of me and my needs that he forgot about himself.

He narrowed his eyes on me. “Don't get cheeky, boy.”

I blew out a breath. “I'm not, Daddy. You've been so worried about my stress and my stomach aches, but all that has been from me worrying about you. I don't want you to be unhappy for the rest of your life either. I don't want you to be bored or dissatisfied like my parents or grow angry and bitter like yours. I want you to enjoy life the way you always make sure that I do.”

He stroked his thumb over my temple. “My unhappiness with my career has really bothered you that much?”

“Yes, and I don't understand why you don't quit,” I said for the millionth time.

He barked out a laugh. “Honestly, you had me half-sold on the idea when I first started finding baby magazines under the couch and cribs on your computer screen, but if you wanted a family, I wanted to give you and our children the best possible life, so I was determined to press on.”

My heart clenched at the steadfastness of this man. Of course that was why he'd stay. Not because he was money hungry, or because he had to be the best, but because he loved me and wanted to take the best possible care of me. Because he loved the family that he thought I was imagining in my head and wanted to provide for all of us. “How did I get so lucky?” I asked.

John smiled and pressed his lips to mine, and we shared a sweet kiss. Before it could heat up like it knew it would after a conversation like this, I pulled back. “If I think about letting you be my angel donor, will you consider retiring and focusing on something that will make you happy, too?”

He huffed a little laugh. “And here you go again, getting your way with me.”

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