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“Mmm, because waffles are very welcome in our love story.”
Huh?
I inched back and looked at him.
His eyes flashed with amusement and affection. “That was the term you used about us—love story. Which is so unlike you, and that’s why it’s fucking precious.”
Oh. I see. He was gonna mock my incredibly romantic ways?
“I haven’t decided whether I’m giving our love story a happy ending,” I told him. “I could strangle you. That’s an option too.”
He cracked up and hugged me tightly, and it earned him a light punch to his side. A very light punch.
“Christ—with the violence all the time,” he laughed. “Like son, like Daddy.”
Hilarious. I broke free and turned off the water.
“And you love accusing me of being a troll,” I scoffed.
“I’m not a troll.” He grinned and opened the shower door. “I’m just a man in a love story, teasing my bae.”
I coughed around a chuckle that I couldn’t suppress. Bastard! “Don’t ever use that term again. You learned that from Noa.”
“He keeps my vernacular up-to-date.”
Not to mention ridiculous.
I shook my head in amusement and walked out of the shower, and I grabbed us some towels. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“How cute?”
I threw the towel over his head. “Even cuter now.”
He snorted a laugh and yanked the towel forward, so that his hair pointed in every direction when he emerged with a stupid grin.
Fuck, how I loved him.
I knew it was way too soon to discuss progress, and yet I saw it clear as day. Happiness had returned to his eyes, and his smiles were no longer tinted with exhaustion.
That on its own brought me a fuck-ton of relief.
We finished drying off, and then Lucian went to get us clothes and my chair. In the meantime, I wrapped a towel around my hips and leaned on my cane on my way to the kitchen. The whole house smelled like waffles, so Noa had been spared my semi-okay version. Cam’s waffles were next level. Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside. The secret, according to him, was the butter and baking powder ratio.
It would remain a secret because fuck if I understood.
“Morning, Daddy!” Noa lit up when he saw me. “Did you and Uncle Lucian canoodle the fuck out of each other in the shower?”
I chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “That’s one way of putting it.” I walked over to Cam by the counter and hugged him from behind. I felt his forehead too. “How are you feeling today, sweetheart?”
“Much better, Sir. I’m just tired.” He offered a sleepy smile and popped a kiss to my jaw.
I frowned and cupped his cheek. “Then no chores for you today either. I want you to rest until you?—”
“But, Daddy!” he protested with a mix of a pout and a frustrated look. Meanwhile, my Daddy heart soared, and I grinned like an idiot. “I’m so bored! I’ve rested forever—I feel great, but I miss my chores—and why are you smiling like that?!”
“Because you make me happy, little one,” I chuckled and gave him a big smooch. “You’ve called me Daddy more times this week than the past two months combined, and I love it.”
“Oh.” He scowled weakly and flushed, and he appeared to be struggling against his own smile. Instead, he fiddled with the edge of my towel and bit his lip.
