Page 16 of Just A Little Magic

A tow truck and a hotel room in town might’ve been an option, but given how Owen had regressed, I wasn’t keen on the idea of him being around people he didn’t know.

“Under the circumstances, that’s fine. Did you get a chance to explore the property?”

“Well, we started to do that, but, ya know, bear…”

“Ha! That wasn’t the beginning of a sales pitch.” She laughed. “If you found the caretaker’s room upstairs, the emergency provisions are there. He always kept them on hand and said he left them as a precaution. The mountains can be so unpredictable. You’ll find clean linens there too.”

“Thank you so much for your help and for letting us stay. I don’t think either of us is ready to deal with getting back into town today,” I murmured.

The relief in my voice was palatable. If nothing else, I’d have a little more time with Owen. It didn’t make me happy that he’d had the shit scared out of him, but being able to be the Daddy that he needed?

Cloud fucking nine.

As promised, I found the emergency provisions in the kitchenette in the caretaker’s room. In fact, it was a fully stocked pantry with more than enough choices to get through an entire week.

Besides the food, I also found the clean linens she’d mentioned for the bed and hygiene supplies. Too bad the caretaker had retired. If we bought the lodge, I’d have kept him on staff.

I’d checked on Owen before coming upstairs. He was exactly where I’d left him on the couch. His new cat was still curled up on his chest, sleeping. The poor little guy must have been exhausted with his mama gone.

Before I brought Owen upstairs, I quickly ran through the lodge, looking for cat supplies. I found a box top and potting sand for an impromptu litter box. With a little more digging, I also found a basket to hold the throw pillow already in his travel carrier box so he’d have a soft place to sleep tonight.

Once everything was situated, I went back downstairs to find Owen.

“How does a sleepover sound? We can’t get the keys until tomorrow, but we have plenty of supplies to get us through the night.”

I ran a soothing hand up and down his arm. It didn’t make sense to me why Owen was so protective of his little space, but I respected his choice.

“Da, sleep wit you?” Owen asked.

He’d pulled his thumb out of his mouth so he was easier to understand.

“Yep, it’ll be fun! I found some supplies for your new baby. He’s gonna be snug as a bug in a rug.”

Owen opened his mouth like he would argue, but I held up my hand to head him off.

“I found a box lid we can use for a litter box and some sand to put in there. Plus, I put a basket upstairs for him to sleep in. We’ll need to put him in the bathroom so he learns to use the litter box.”

Owen nodded and didn’t try to argue. I slung his jacket over my forearm and helped pull Owen to his feet. He carefully tucked his kitten close to his shoulder and kept his hand in mine. I laced our fingers. It felt like fireworks were exploding in my chest. I’d wanted this for longer than I’d even acknowledgedto myself, and now I could finally show him that I could take care of him.

We crossed the reception hall and walked up the stairs, Owen’s hand in mine the whole way. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. Electricity crackled between us, and Owen let out a few hitched breaths that, I hoped, were directly related to me. He didn’t let go until we reached the caretaker’s room.

Once inside, Owen immediately plopped down on the carpet near the couch. He gingerly set the kitten down and gently played the finger-waggle game. The cat pounced and retreated, rinse and repeat.

While Owen was occupied with his new, unnamed baby, I busied myself putting together something to eat. I found a can of tuna for the cat, which should be enough to tide him over until we could get him some proper food. For Owen and me, I found some jars of soup and a few tins of fancy crackers. It would be plenty for lunch.

“Hey, baby, are you ready to let your kitty learn to use the box?”

Owen’s glare was immediate and sharp.

“Don’t give me that look, buddy. He has to learn how to use it so you can take him home, and he needs a snack too. I’m sure he’s hungry.”

At my words, Own hung his head as if ashamed.

“It’s okay. I know you love him already.”

It seemed as if Owen’s little wasreallyyoung. Most of the boys I’d played with had older mindsets, and it was fine to be a little stern with them. If I ever had the opportunity to be with him in little space again—and I wanted that as much as a drowning man wanted oxygen—I needed to be aware of my tone and his regressed age. Little ones needed a gentle touch even when they were being stubborn.

“All right, let’s get him settled, and then let’s get some food in you.”

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