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Bryce chuckles as he pulls me close to him. "I sure did. And they won’t merely be taller—no, they’ll be bigger in every way. Big trucks that make lots of zoomy noises. And they’ll be painted like monsters. With fangs and scary eyes."
Another working guy smirks. "BJ looks like he’s going to pass out from excitement."
I nod. "I am."
"Hey," one working guy hollers. "No stealing sips of my Dew."
"Sorry, man," the thief says with a snort. "I forgot mine in my truck and I can’t go one night without a sip or two of Dew."
"These are real working guys, Daddy." I nudge Bryce’s waist, fighting back tears. "Just like I see on Ice Road Truckers."
Bryce nods proudly. "I only select the best specimens for my crew."
One working guy pulls out a wad of chewing tobacco. "My girlfriend said I need to quit chewing this. She said it makes my breath stink."
Another guy scoffs. "Time for a new girlfriend."
Bryce scowls at each. "No badmouthing your girlfriends and no talking about chew around my precious boy. He’s innocent."
"Yeah." I pout as I cross my arms over my chest. "My ears aren’t meant to hear such naughty things."
Another guy needles his buddy in the ribs. "Says the boy who was jerking Bryce off in the digger."
"Oh, that was wild," another drawls. "I had to bust a nut behind the trailer after I saw that."
I glare at him. "My ears are being violated."
The one chewing the tobacco coughs as he rams his fist against his chest. "Ain’t you old 'nough for a lil' chew?"
Bryce pulls two traffic cone-shaped earplugs from his pocket. "I bought these for you, baby boy. The rally will get loud, so I took it upon myself to protect your hearing. Around these men, you’ll need to wear them early."
I let Bryce slide the earplugs into my ears. "Maybe I am old enough for a lil’ chew. I do want to be a working guy after all, and I sure would like something to suck on during this exciting rally."
"I thought you might say that, boy." Bryce smiles, tugging a yellow pacifier out of his pocket. "Daddy came prepared."
Before I can protest, Bryce pops the pacifier in my mouth.
I suck.
Oh, yes.
I’ve never worn a pacifier before.
I cling to Bryce, hugging him so tightly, letting the sensations of safety and protectiveness that I feel every time I’m close to him wash over me. "Best Daddy ever."
"I love you, boy."
I tilt my head up and remove my paci for a moment. "What?" It’s hard to hear through these traffic cone earplugs.
It dawns on me all of a sudden that I must look like a walking job site with all my construction gear. I’m even wearing my hardhat, and so is Bob, who I’m holding, of course. I’d never not bring Bob to a real working man event.
Bryce removes my left earplug. "I said that I love you."
I stare into Bryce’s eyes… and forget how to breathe. Outside the stadium, his deep brown irises don't merely contain the same sloshy coffee that real working men drink every day, they contain universes. Infinite universes, each stretching out an arm to me, inviting me to step into their magical world.
His eyes are true Daddy eyes. They’re packed with love, heart, and lovingkindness.
A dumb grin forms on my face. "Oh, well. I love you, too." This is so obvious it shouldn’t have to be said. Of course I love my Daddy. He’s the best Daddy ever, and I love him with all my heart.
