Page 61 of Double Daddies
“A man has to protect himself, right?” Drake’s gaze drifted, watching how the moonlight painted silver ribbons across the water’s surface.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Drake swiveled and changed the subject as his thumb traced familiar patterns on Damian’s hand.
“Utterly.” Damian shifted closer until their shoulders touched. “It was commendable how she fought until the very end, then without warning, surrendered so completely.”
“Just like us when we were young.” Drake’s voice turned gruff under the burden of shared memories that were always in the back of his mind. “Always having to be strong, to prove ourselves worthy of attention that never came.”
They sat in companionable silence, remembering the lonely years before they found each other. Two lost boys in boarding school, learning in a cruel way through parental absenteeism that love didn’t have to come with conditions attached. Their hands remained linked, drawing strength from each other as they had for so many years.
“Her proposal about being a tomboy…” Damian mused, his free hand absently rubbing Drake’s forearm. “It could work in our favor.”
Drake’s lips curved into a predatory smile. “Indeed. Our little wildcat will earn twice the spankings climbing trees and getting into mischief.”
“We’ll need to set firm boundaries.” Damian’s voice took on the stern edge that made their Little ones shiver. “I am not budging on diapers at bedtime or wearing onesies. Both are non-negotiable. The bottle at night as well since every good little tomboy needs strong bones.”
“Agreed.” Drake leaned into Damian’s touch as they continued to plan Elle’s modified transition. “Miguel can repaint the nursery in autumn colors. Warm yellows, oranges, and bronze shades, I think. The local artists can do a mural of ponies and bugs in the forest to replace the frills.”
“I like the idea of using a local artist,” Damian’s mind was already racing with possibilities. “What about the crib?”
“Definitely stays. We can’t have our little tomboy falling out of bed at night.”
They chuckled as each conjured up how she would respond to hearing them say that.
“Amanda can go to George Town and buy a large rocking horse,” Damian suggested with an evil smile. “One that’s sturdy enough for proper rides.”
Drake smirked. “And this time, you can tell her the new rules. I’m tired of always being the bearer of disappointing news.”
“There goes my advantage in winning her heart first,” Damian chuckled, but the sound faded into seriousness. He turned to face Drake. “We have three months, Drake. Three months to make her realize she belongs with us permanently.”
“So, let’s make every second count. I don’t believe there’s another like her out there for us. For me.” Drake’s voice grew husky with raw honesty. “It’s her or no one. I’ve never felt this... complete with anyone else we’ve tried.”
“Agreed.” Damian cupped Drake’s jaw in a gesture of comfort they had shared countless times. “I refuse to spend our golden years as two grumpy old men sitting on rocking chairs alone on this patio. She’s the missing piece we’ve searched for.”
“This is one acquisition we will not fail to secure.” Drake leaned into the touch. His voice carried the same determinationthat had built their empire. “We’ll give her the nurturing neither of us received and show her that love doesn’t require perfection.”
“While ensuring she maintains that fierce independence that drew us to her,” Damian added, dropping his hand but maintaining their other connection.
“She won’t. It’s part of who she is. We’ll just guide her to... properly channel her energy.”
Their fingers remained intertwined as they gazed at the stars, their thoughts centered on the sleeping angel upstairs who had unknowingly claimed their hearts so long ago at that sport’s day and cementing their belief that she was the one with her first defiant glare in the bakery not so long ago.
Their physical closeness, as always, provided the foundation from which they would build their future.
This time, hopefully, with a precious Little as their missing piece.
Drake’s master bedroom, a little after midnight
Drake
Drake woke up from a soft curse sounding over the baby monitor. Before he could rise to check on her, footsteps in the hallway made him relax back against his pillows. The door creaked open, revealing Elle in her pink-polka-dot onesie, her hair tousled from sleep.
Pride and tenderness surged through him. Despite being the strict disciplinarian, the one who had taken care of all her punishment, she still sought him out in a moment ofvulnerability. It spoke volumes about the building of trust between them, even if she wasn’t consciously aware of it yet.
He watched through slitted eyelids as she tiptoed closer. The moonlight from the open glass doors cast a silvery glow around her. She looked ethereally beautiful, and he had a hard time not catching his breath.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she debated her next move, then quickly lifted the sheet and slipped in beside him but hugged the edge of the mattress while watching him intently.
“What are you doing out of bed, Elle?”
