Page 9 of Merry Little Christmas
“Thank you, baby.” Cole’s eyes had changed, softened. He looked at me like he wanted to bottle this moment up and savor it. “Finish up your drink and we’ll get you comfortable.”
Happily.
I’d known that snow would be cold, but it never clicked with mehowfrigid it could get. Despite being warm and dry, the chill seeped through my skin and settled in my bones. Cole sat beside me, absentmindedly watching the TV while I drank. He seemed toforget about his own cup on the other side of the table, content to twirl my hair around his fingers. He could keep doing that all night.
After some time, I set the empty mug on the table and relaxed into Cole’s arms. My head was fuzzy, my belly was warm, and I was dangerously close to full Little. As promised, Cole handed over my pacifier, which I gratefully accepted. When he shifted, I found myself wishing he would carry me because the act of holding myself upright had become too much.
Then I was swept up into his arms. I gasped, clinging to his neck for dear life. That low chuckle rumbled his chest. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
He carried me down the hall and reluctantly, I let him set me on my feet when we stopped in front of a room I’d never been in. It was an understood rule in Cole’s house: That door stayed locked, no matter what.
Silently, I waited while he fished his keys out and unlocked the door. I don’t know what I expected when he pushed it open, but I wasn’t prepared for what laid in front of me.
My jaw dropped, my pacifier falling to the floor. Before I could retrieve it, Cole had it in his hand. “Go on,” he urged, nudging me forward and turning on the light. “I’ll be right back.”
I took a hesitant step into the room. It was anursery; a Little’s paradise. The walls were painted a serene blue, trimmed with pastel galaxy borders, with matching hand-drawn stars dancing across the paint. Matching sheets decorated a twin bed, and books and toys lined the shelves beneath the window. A fluffy, cozy-looking rocking chair sat in the corner and on the other wall… Well, that was what made my heart race: a changing table; likely custom-built to accommodate an adult.
Star-patterned fabric concealed the storage space beneath, but it wasn’t hard to gather what hid behind it.
When Cole returned, I gestured to the table. “Does thatmean… diapers?” I whispered the word like the walls would tell on me.
He handed over my paci and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. “I do have some, but that doesn’t mean you have to wear them.”
Oh, but I wanted to. Ireallywanted to. I’d had a box sitting in the back of my closet for months, but something about putting them on alone prevented me from even opening it. Cole was giving me the chance to not worry about anything—even using the bathroom.
Now’s your chance, Peyton…
Cheeks blazing, I nodded, and Cole’s eyes sparkled. “Would you like me to pick out your pajamas? Or should I?”
“Can you, please? I’m so tired.”
Cole gave me that lopsided grin, pushing off the door frame “Relax now, little one,” he soothed, guiding my pacifier back to my mouth. God I was quickly growing to love that move. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the changing table. “Remember your safewords, and let Daddy take it from here.”
Moving to the closet, he pulled the bi-fold doors open, revealing rows of colorful pajamas. A light blue set caught my eye and like he could read my mind, that was the one Cole selected. “Arms up.”
I obeyed, and my hoodie cleared my head. Cole eyed my binder, a hidden question in his eyes. My hesitance must have answered for me. “Promise you’ll take it off before bed?”
Relieved, I nodded. Happy with that solution, Cole slipped the pajama shirt on and helped me lie back. The shirt was soft and warm, urging me into my safe space. Cole tugged off my sweats next, setting them aside.
Uh-oh…
Instinctively, I tried to twist away and hide the damp spot from him—it truly had been a close call in the bathroom. But Cole onlysmiled sweetly and pulled my underwear off. “It’s okay, little one. It happens.”
He reached under the table, producing a pack of baby wipes and warming one in his hands. “Can you give me a color?”
“Green.”
Only then did Cole begin to clean me up, my eyes threatening to fall shut—until rustling had them snapping open. Cole was unfolding the diaper and placing it under my legs. As if it were second nature, my hips lifted and he settled the padded material under my butt. He worked expertly, rubbing some sort of cool cream on my thighs before folding the diaper over my stomach.
As he secured it, I looked down. Teddy bears and stars danced across the front.Would they disappear if I was wet? The thought had me blushing so furiously that Cole began to laugh. “You okay?”
I nodded, face on fire. This diaper was supposed to be an experiment. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking aboutusingit. Right?
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Peyton,” Cole said, seeming to read my mind. “If you have to potty and don’t want to use the diaper, all you have to do is say so.”
Relieved, I wiggled, a contented sigh pressing around my soother. Cole worked the matching blue pajama pants over my legs and up my hips, and the soft cotton caressing my skin seemed to be my body’s signal to shut off.
Cole reached up to my face, brushing his knuckles along my cheek, something akin to adoration deepening his hunter eyes. “You look so precious, little one.”
