Page 49 of Our Pup (Our Love)


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“Our.” Ian shrugged, maybe unconvinced or maybe just noncommittal, but he didn’t stay focused on it for long. As soon as he’d skimmed a few more pages he looked over at the bag again, trying to be subtle. “More?”

As subtle as a brick.

He was perfect.

“Yes, there’s more.” I made another show of reaching into the bag but this time stretching it out and teasing him before I pulled out a jar of applesauce.

Ian laughed but quickly made gimme fingers at the bag. “More?”

Trying not to grin, I pulled out a big box of new crayons, which were appropriately appreciated before I pulled out the last surprises. His eyes went wide as he saw the matching sippy cup and divided plate, which had more bunnies bouncing all over them. Bunnies just like his new friend.

They were a hit.

Cohen was going to preen and be utterly insufferable because he’d been convinced they would be Ian’s favorite. I’d just found it to be the cutest thing I’d ever seen, because for someone who kept saying they didn’t date anyone at L and L, he certainly had a lot of opinions on what would make Ian happy.

As Ian traced over the pictures and admired the plate, he looked up at me. “Mine?”

If it was asking something specific, I couldn’t guess, but I nodded and did my best. “Yes, Daddy and friend Cohen picked them out just for you because we were very excited to find special presents for a special boy.”

Ian simply gave me a big smile and nodded before pointing to his applesauce. “Now?”

Clearly, it was time for dinner.

****

“Two? Three?” Ian gave me a hopeful smile, leaning against the table with a wide-eyed look that was terribly fake. Three seemed to be as high as he could count because he’d counted to three several times in the hope of getting more cookies.

Cohen’s idea of bunny cookies was going to make him impossible to deal with too.

Ian loved them.

“You’ve already had three.” Because I was a sucker. “How about we go play or find a movie?”

I wasn’t sure big Ian would appreciate a stomachache later if he kept eating more cookies. Little Ian didn’t seem to like that answer because he sighed, giving the plastic container I’d borrowed from Cohen a long lamenting look. “One?”

Trying not to laugh, I shook my head. “Not right now. But maybe one more later before bed.”

I was imagining cookies and milk before I left, but Ian cocked his head and studied me. “Stay?”

Oh.

“We can figure that out later. Playtime now?” My answer must not have frustrated him because he nodded eagerly and hopped up from the table.

Taking my hand, he quickly picked up the rabbit again and zoomed us all back to the playroom, escorting me to the big chair. “Stay.”

When I saluted him and obeyed, he giggled and seemed to find that to be the funniest thing he’d ever seen. “Soldier.”

That was all I got before he started giggling again, then bouncing around the room like the rabbit he was still holding tight. It took me a minute to understand what his goal was, primarily because he took a very roundabout path over to his bookshelf.

Rabbit trails were clearly not in straight lines.

Plopping down on the floor, he carefully picked out a handful of books and stood, retracing his bouncy path back over to me. I was impressed when he managed to make it back in one piece without falling or dropping anything, but bouncing was clearly harder than walking because he yawned as he climbed up in my lap, shoving the books at my chest excitedly. “Read, Daddy?”

He must’ve decided being polite was a better idea for getting what he wanted because he gave me another sweet, wide-eyed look and patted the books. “Special Daddy.”

I was a sucker, and he knew it.

Barely managing not to laugh, I nodded and kissed his forehead. “Special boy and special Daddy.”

That had him snuggling right into me, going boneless and utterly pleased with himself as I started to read. Four books about different rabbits later, he was wiggling and yawning and kept bringing his thumb up to his mouth before setting it back on his lap.

It seemed to be a universal sign for wanting a binkie instead of a thumb, but I hadn’t seen a binkie lying around anywhere. I also wasn’t sure he was awake enough to play since all he seemed to want to do was yawn and cuddle.

Movie time seemed to be the best option because it was right on the edge of being an acceptable bedtime for a little.

Kissing his forehead as he started to wiggle again, I set the last book on the floor beside the chair. “How about we go find a movie? Do you have a bunny movie?”

Since that seemed to be the theme of the evening, I stayed on point and was glad to see him nod, looking more excited. “Should we get you ready for bed first?”

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