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A familiar voice emanates from the olive grove. "You tell 'em, Romeo."
Romeo’s jaw drops as he whips around. "Dino? Is that you?"
"It is me," Dino coos, his voice floating across the gathering, "it is me, you’re looking for."
Nonna pats Romeo’s back. "Congratulations. Your prize is a set of steak knives."
Romeo scowls. "That’s it?"
"You won second place," Nonna explains. "The first-place winner won a new car."
"Ididwin first place," Romeo grits out.
Nonna places a faux tiara on her head. "The first rule of mouse is that the judge always takes home the grand prize."
We all groan, then go back to roasting marshmallows. "Nonna sure is annoying," I hiss to Lazaro.
Lazaro nods. "At least she didn’t tell us to play squirrel."
"What’s that?" Jericho queries.
"It’s where you don't look both ways before you run into the middle of the street," Lazaro drawls. "You can guess what happens to the losers."
Jericho makes a face. "Morbid, Daddy."
Lazaro cups Jericho’s cheeks. He stares into his boy’s eyes, emotion building in his chest. "I want to play with you."
Jericho’s ears perk up. "I’ve been waiting."
Jericho
I take Lazaro’s hand as I lead him away from the bonfire. Today’s the big day—err, tonight’s the big night.
It’s clear that Lazaro has issues regarding playtime. He’s labored under the illusion that Daddies aren’t supposed to enjoy playing as much as their boys—that they’re not supposed to be too Little.
Now, I’m going to show him how mistaken he is.
"Let’s go, Daddy."
Lazaro stays close to me. His body heat radiates through me, making me feel safe and warm. "Thank you."
When we reach the guesthouse, I spread the stuffies Bentley and I played with on the floor. "Okay, Daddy. You make up the game."
Lazaro’s eyes well with tears. "Oh, boy—you don't know how long I’ve wanted to do this. The instant I saw you and Bentley, I realized I'd suppressed these desires. I want to be your Daddy—but also embrace my inner Little. The boy who loves playing with toys, having tea parties, and cuddling with stuffies. I want the best of both worlds—to be a Little Daddy. So many people would say that’s impossible or a stupid idea. I disagree. It’s what I need, what I crave. Tonight, I want to be your Little Daddy."
I sniffle as I hold his hand. "Be yourself tonight. I’m not judging you."
There’s nothing better than seeing a man embrace his sensitive side. I love it—we don't get much of that in this world.
Men are expected to be brave, strong, warrior-likeallthe time. It’s bullshit. What if a man wants to talk about his feelings and play with stuffies? God fucking forbid.
I’m so glad Lazaro isn’t like most toxic males. Yes, he’s strong as hell, a fighter, and a Daddy—but he has a playful side, too, one I’m not willing to force him to suppress.
Ilovethat Lazaro is like this. It makes me feel so much better—even hopeful. Hope that he and I can play together always. That we will forever have fun.
Lazaro tugs a teddy out of the bin. "It’s been a long time since I’ve played."
I place my hand on his. "Follow your heart."
