Page 74 of Daddy Defender
Henry’s laugh is deep, echoing in the small bathroom, and he reaches out, ruffling my hair, his big hand warm on my head.
“You do that, sweet boy, and you’ll have every surfer in Sunny Ferns jealous,” Henry says, his eyes crinkling with pride. “My darling boy’s got a voice louder than a foghorn when he wants it to be.”
I giggle, my cheeks flushing, but my hands keep moving, wrapping a bandage around his arm, nice and snug. My Little side’s loving this—taking care of Daddy, being his good boy—but I’m chewing on something heavier too.
The pier’s behind us, Vince’s tied up, the cops have him, and the cartel’s scattered, at least for now. That’s all good.
But Henry’s a Guard who lives for danger, and I can’t shake the fear that this—us, our bubble—might fade when he goes back to that life.
I don’t want to lose Henry, not when calling him Daddy feels like home.
I finish the bandage, smoothing the edges, and sit back on my heels, my romper crinkling.
My eyes meet his, and the words spill out before I can stop them, my voice small, my Little side scared but honest.
“Daddy… I’m afraid,” I say. “I’m afraid you’ll go back to being a Night Ops man and… forget about me.” My fingers twist in my lap, my heart pounding like I’m paddling into a rogue wave. “You’ll be off on missions, all secret and dangerous, and I’ll just be… some surfer boy you saved. I don’t want that. I wantus.”
Henry’s eyes darken, not with anger but with something fierce, protective.
He slides off the tub, kneeling in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs brushing my freckles.
“Bodie, listen to me,” Henry says, his voice low, steady, all Daddy authority. “I’m always gonna be a Guard—it’s in my blood. But forget you? Not a chance in hell, Little One. You’re mine—my surfer boy, my Little, my everything. I want you, too,and I’ll work something out. We’ll figure this out, together. I promise.”
Henry’s words hit like a warm wave, washing over my fears, and I lean into his touch, my Little side soaking up his vow.
“You mean it, Daddy?” I whisper, my eyes stinging, but I’m smiling, hope blooming in my chest.
“I mean it,” he says, his lips brushing my forehead, soft but firm, sealing the promise. “You’re stuck with me, ninja surfer. And that means no running off to chase waves without your Daddy.”
I giggle, relief flooding me, and throw my arms around him, hugging tight despite his wince.
“Sorry, sorry!” I say, pulling back, my Little side all fussy again. “You’re hurt, and I’m squishing you!”
“I’ll live,” Henry says, smirking, but his eyes are tired, the night’s toll showing in the lines on his face.
He stands, pulling me up with him, his hand steadying me as we shuffle to the living room.
The safehouse feels so much cozier now, the couch sagging under Poot and Billy, my sketchpad open to a half-finished dolphin from our coloring session. I plop down, grabbing my stuffies, and let out a huge yawn, my adrenaline crashing hard.
My eyelids droop, my body heavy, like I’ve just surfed a marathon.
Henry notices, his Daddy radar on point as always, and he crosses his arms, giving me that stern look that makes my Little side squirm.
“That’s a seriously big yawn, Little One,” Henry says, his voice firm but warm. “It’s bedtime. Daddy’s Orders.”
I pout, clutching Poot, my Little side pushing back just a bit.
“But I’m notthatsleepy, Daddy,” I say, my voice high, teasing. “Can’t we stay up a little? Maybe color or… or play stuffie beach party?”
I bat my lashes, hoping to sway him, but another yawn betrays me, and I slump, giggling despite myself.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Henry says, stepping closer, his hands on his hips, all Daddy authority. “You’reexhausted, and good boys listen to Daddy. Bedtime, now. No arguments, or no surf lessons tomorrow.”
My eyes widen, my Little side perking up at the mention of surf lessons.
“You’re really gonna surf with me, Daddy?” I ask, bouncing, Billy flopping in my lap. “Like, for real?”
“Damn right,” Henry says, a grin tugging his lips. “But only if my Little gets his rest. Come on, up you go.”
