AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasn’t instant, but after a while, that hard knot inside him started to ease. He stood off to the side, not quite feeling at ease as Justin did. The other man was currently playing dress-up with some of the Littles, while two of them did his make-up.
Damn, if only he had his phone on him. It would be funny to take a photo of the grizzled ex-marine wearing a pink tutu.
“Will you come have a tea party with me?” one of the Littles asked. He couldn’t remember her name, but he shrugged.
“Sure.” What would it hurt? He sat at the small table while the girl poured him out some pretend tea. To his surprise, he found he was enjoying himself.
He should have spent more time in here. He’d always been drawn to the Littles. Maybe that’s why he’d kept his distance. After Charlene, he hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone. And she’d forced him to suppress his urges, his desires.
You’re too much to deal with, Zander.
It’s a constant struggle trying to communicate with you.
There’s something messed up in your brain, and I’m not the person to fix it.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry. He nearly scoffed at the memory. Zander didn’t put much stock in words. Actions were what counted. How often did people say one thing to your face, but mean something else?
And it was harder for him than most to judge what was a lie or sarcasm or a joke. For Charlene, he’d worked on trying to be more normal.
Then Charlene left him anyway, so what was the point?
He hadn’t told the others on his team everything that had occurred between the two of them. Maybe he should have. He never usually kept things from them.
You should tell Keira about Bartolli.
Yeah. He should.
But part of him didn’t want to. Because that would weaken his argument for keeping her. He knew he couldn’t keep her forever. But he also couldn’t let her go.
It wasn’t normal to feel this way so quickly for someone, right? He hadn’t with Charlene. He’d felt sorry for her. Protective, because of what she’d been through, but there hadn’t been any real attraction, not until . . .
Until she’d made the first move. Huh. She had, hadn’t she? He’d forgotten that.
“Here you go, Sir,” the Little, whose name was Sara, handed him a pretend cup of tea. “You want cake?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, please,” she said.
Why was she repeating what he said, was it a game?
“Yes, please.”
“Good boy, Sir.”
He wasn’t sure why he was a good boy, but he went with it.
“Aren’t you gonna drink it?” she asked when he just stared down at the fake tea.
“What? Oh, I have to do that?”
A sad look crossed her face and her shoulders drooped. “You don’t like it? I didn’t do a good job? I’m sorry.”
She reached for the cup and he drew it back. “No, no, I want it. I’m not used to, uh, to—”
“Tea parties?” she guessed.
