Page 19 of Master Daddy

The banter flies the whole way up. And I wouldn’t expect any less either.

Kaleb ribs me again about Luke. Connor wants details on the gym session. I keep batting them off with the same line—A Daddy doesn’t tell and all that—until they finally groan and let it drop.

For now.

About two miles in, as the trail steepens and our breathing gets heavier, I feel the words rising anyway. The mountain has a way of pulling truth out of you.

“I’ll admit it,” I say, voice low as I plant my boot on another rocky step. “I want what you two have. The settled life. The Little waiting at home. Someone to take care of. Someone who looks at me like I’m the one and only man in town.”

Connor glances back, sweat beading on his forehead but his expression serious. “It changes everything, brother. In the best way. I used to live for the next adventure, the next thrill. Now I live for coming home to Milo in his Little outfits, hearing him call me Daddy, knowing I’m the one who keeps him safe and happy. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Same,” Kaleb adds, breathing steady despite the climb. “Taron drives me insane sometimes, but he is my peace. My fire. My reason to be better. Being single was fine. Being his Daddy? That’s living.”

I nod, letting their words sink in as my quads burn on the ascent.

The forest is thinning now, giving way to alpine meadows dotted with wildflowers. Internally, something shifts. I’ve been telling myself for years that the rig is my life—that the money, the isolation, the danger is just what I have to do. But Luke already has me questioning everything.

And the thought of leaving Luke in a few weeks sits like a rock in my gut.

“I wouldn’t know what the hell to do for work,” I admit, wiping sweat from my brow. “Oil rig pays what it pays. I’ve got no fancy degree, no fancy skills beyond heavy labor and keeping my head on straight in a storm. How do I make that kind of money on land?”

Connor slows his pace so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “I’ll think on it. I’ve got some contacts in construction, logging ops, even some private security gigs that pay well. You’re a beast in the field, Mason. Hell, you’re a beast anywhere. We’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. Means a lot.” I clap him on the back. “But I need to take responsibility on this one. I can’t keep waiting for life to hand me the perfect solution. If I want what you two have… I’ve got to build it myself.”

The words feel heavy but right. For the first time in years, settling down doesn’t feel like giving up. It feels like the next summit I need to reach.

We push harder as the trail narrows near the top.

The air is thinner, the views already insane… endless green valleys, distant rugged peaks, our little town looking like a toy set far below. My heart pounds, lungs burning, but the endorphins are kicking in hard.

“Last push!” I shout.

Without warning, Connor breaks into a sprint.

Kaleb follows with a wild laugh.

I dig deep, legs screaming, and charge after them. Boots slam on rock. We’re shoulder to shoulder, elbows out, laughing like idiots. I edge past Kaleb, then pull even with Connor on the final stretch. My longer stride gives me the edge and I surge ahead by half a step and slap the summit marker first.

“Yes!” I roar, fists in the air, chest heaving. “Told you I’d smoke you sonsofguns!”

Connor bends over, hands on knees, grinning. “Barely, you cheating bastard.”

Kaleb collapses dramatically onto a boulder. “Rematch on the way down.”

I stand tall, hands on hips, looking out over the world. The view is breathtaking—mountains rolling forever, hawks circling below us, the late afternoon sun turning everything golden.

I suck in deep gulps of crisp air and feel something settle in my chest.

“Luke’s gonna beat Milo too,” I declare, still catching my breath. “Just like I beat you.”

Connor laughs, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that, big guy. Milo’s been training hard on the trip. Those victory pancakes are mine.”

We find a flat spot near the edge, pull out the beers we carried up, and crack them open. Cold foam hisses into the mountain air. We clink cans and drink deep, the bitterness perfect after the climb.

For a long while we just sit in comfortable silence, legs dangling over the edge, taking in the view. The wind whips around us, carrying the scent of pine and stone. My mind drifts back to Luke—his sassy smile, the way he melted when I called him little one, the trust he’s already placing in me even when he fights it.

I want this. The mountain. The cabin. Him.