A daddy for christmas ev.., p.1
A Daddy for Christmas: Ever, page 1
EVER
A DADDY FOR CHRISTMAS
WENDY RATHBONE
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Afterword
Also by Wendy Rathbone
Wendy Rathbone’s Trope Cheat Sheet
A Daddy for Christmas: Ever, by Wendy Rathbone, copyright November 2023.
Title: A Daddy for Christmas: Ever.
Author: Wendy Rathbone.
Cover design: Jo Clement.
Editor: NJ Torrance.
Published by: Eye Scry Publications.
Created with Vellum
For all my readers. Thank you!
Special Thanks To:
NJ Torrance
FOREWORD
ABOUT THIS BOOK
From an embarrassing Halloween costume to an unexpected very large early Christmas present, can two men trust the secrets they know about each other to take them on a journey of passion they’ll never forget?
Ever has never told anyone about his secret compulsion. When alone, he likes to pretend he's very little and has someone there at all times to take care of his every need. So what does it mean when a guy who works in the same office complex as he does gives him a surprise teddy bear Christmas present and asks him out?
Birch sees a young man every day at the coffee cart downstairs in the building where he works. He can’t get the man off his mind. When he gets up the courage to start talking to the guy, there is no looking back. This boy’s secret matches his own in every way. Ever is everything he’s dreamed of… and more.
MM romance, daddy/boy, first time, comfort, age play, praise, training a little, onesies, bath times, Christmas holiday romance, HEA.
Ever is part of A Daddy for Christmas, a multi-author series. All the books are standalones. Each Daddy has a unique gift for his wonderful boy and sometimes Santa gets it so right it’s scary.
1
Birch
Ever made my eyes water and my knees weak. The way his dark hair reflected all the lights of the lobby while standing in line at the coffee cart, how he canted his hip when he gave his order, his beautiful hands graceful as he casually tapped his card at the pay station, had my full attention.
I had noticed him a week ago. I’d almost missed him, walking with my head down, my gaze fixated only on my next step, and the one after, on my path to the elevators. It had been his voice that first alerted me and made me turn, soft and yet strong, a tone with depth that made the word he spoke like a song.
The cashier had asked for his name.
“Ever,” he replied.
I lifted my chin and stared.
To feel again. To realize the world still existed outside work, outside the all-encompassing filter of grief and getting my mom’s estate settled between me and my brother and sister. It was as if I’d just awakened from a dream.
I hadn’t really noticed the year passing since my mom’s death; time was like a made-up thing now, a distance to be traveled but always unseen. Everything I did had been like moving through a haze that never went away.
My mom had been everything to me, loving me and supporting me through all that I went through in life, including the moment I came out to her as gay. She embodied joy, positivity, and everything good I could think of. All my troubles were nothing in her presence. She could give me a simple smile and I knew she believed in me. That was the power she held. It kept me afloat in everything I did, facing my job, my personal life and even my lovers with a confidence and exuberance that I never would have had without her.
The world went from full color to gray after her cancer diagnosis. She never lost her optimism, but after her passing, I remained in a stunned state, everything becoming strange and false to me. It took all my energy just to keep my job. My personal life got left behind. I had no compulsion or drive to meet men, let alone be a daddy to anyone again.
But that one word. “Ever.”
It had been like a secret code that unlocked the sleep from my mind.
I stood in the middle of the gleaming, marble-floored lobby and stared as if I’d never learned manners, as if I’d never seen a pretty boy before.
Someone brushed against me.
“Sorry. Oh hey, Birch?”
It was Carl, one of my co-workers. “Hey.”
Carl frowned, following my gaze to the coffee cart. “Thinking of getting a drink before work?”
I shook my head. I never bought coffee from the cart. There was a perfectly good coffee maker upstairs.
I watched as Ever stood to the side waiting for his order. He stared at his phone, as all twinks his age did, sliding his finger along the screen. His dark hair hung forward just enough to hide his face, but with a voice like that, I knew he would be totally my type.
“All right, then,” Carl was saying. “You coming up?”
I nodded, blindly following him into the elevator. Carl began talking about a football game he’d seen over the weekend. I barely heard him.
The next day and the days after, I saw Ever at the cart every morning giving his order. He was there like clockwork, seven fifty-five sharp, always at the same time I arrived. After a few days, spying on him for the few seconds before I boarded the elevator wasn’t enough.
One Friday, I threw away all caution and decided to get in the coffee line behind him. I’d finally gotten a chance to glimpse his face and he did not disappoint. He had soft lips and sweet brown eyes, just how I liked, and thick eyebrows that topped his gaze with a hint of mischief. His face had a ghost of shadow from a not so close shave, but smooth, and his neck looked graceful and soft and impeccably touchable.
Wake up, said my body. Wake up, said my heart.
When it came time for my order, I stuttered. I hadn’t thought about what I would buy when my turn came. I mumbled the first thing I saw. “Caramel swirl.” The cashier questioned me. I didn’t understand.
He sighed impatiently. “Iced or hot?”
“Um, hot.”
“Size?”
“Large.”
“Name?”
“Birch.”
The next step was to go stand by Ever and wait for my order. I felt like some teenager not knowing what to say or do.
As was his routine, he stared at his phone. He never looked up until his name was called. Then, by magic, he turned his smile on me and said, “That’s me!”
I could only hold my breath, nod and try to keep standing with knees I no longer felt might hold my weight.
After that morning came the weekend. All I could think of as I puttered around my house was Ever and how Monday morning couldn’t come fast enough so I could see him again.
I could barely focus on the final paperwork for the estate, staring at the total figure of the money I would receive from my share. It was a lot, and I had no clue what I wanted to do with it when it finally deposited into my account. Would it ever fully feel like mine so I could use it to give myself more joy? My mother would have wanted that. She would have wanted me to take more time off from my corporate job and live, travel, have what I wanted. But even knowing that would make her happy, I had no plans. Nothing about her passing would be real for me until the final signature was cast and the last dime withdrawn from the closing accounts. In the meantime, it was all still hers even if she could no longer spend it.
Monday arrived. I jumped from my bed before my alarm went off. I had a reason to get up now. It might have been a stupid and small reason, but it was something. I would see Ever this morning. I would get to hear him order his latte with extra cream and then give his beautiful name in his beautiful voice. If I timed it right, I would get to stand next to him when we waited for our orders.
I now had a reason to get up that was more than just going through the motions of getting to work so I could continue to pay the bills.
When I got to the lobby, that shimmer of a beautiful day followed me inside. I scanned the line at the coffee cart. Ever was at the tail end. I moved up behind him and waited to hear, yet again, his lovely voice.
He didn’t notice me until after he started to move away from the counter to allow me room to step up and give my order. He smiled when he saw me. I didn’t have time to react as the cashier rushed me with questions.
I finally went to stand beside him, and he looked up from his phone to gift me with another smile.
“Seems we’re meeting here often,” he said.
I nodded.
“Is Birch your first name or last name?” he asked.
“Uh, how do you know my name?”
He shrugged. “That’s the name you gave when you ordered.”
He’d overheard. It thrilled me that he’d been paying attention.
“Birch is my first name. My mom and dad named all of us nature words. My brother is Forest and my sister is Brooke. I got stuck with this one.”
“I like it. I’m Ever.”
“Nice to meet you, Ever,” I said.
“That’s a good name, though. Gender neutral.”
They called our orders back-to-back and Ever and I walked together toward the elevators.
“What floor are you on?” I asked.
“Eighth.”
“I’m on the tenth.”
We both nodded as if that was some sort of coincidence. The elevator arrived and we got on together with a crowd of men and women eager to start their day.
We kept catching each other’s eyes and smiling. It made me flush all over. Too soon, we reached floor eight.
“That’s mine,” Ever said. He gave me a little awkward wave. “See ya.”
“Yep.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him, and yet I wanted to grab him and hold him back so I could simply keep looking at him.
Of course, what I wanted—or thought I wanted—would never work. The chances of Ever being a boy who might want to play to my daddy kinks was low. Besides that, was he even gay? He gave off the vibe, but so many younger kids these days did, not buying into gender norms or roles of masculine and feminine.
But today was still a good day. Ever had acknowledged me. We’d exchanged words. That was more than I’d ever hoped for.
I felt a spring in my step as I got off on my floor and headed for my office.
After this past year where I’d been so closed into myself, my mom would have been so happy to see it.
2
Ever
Birch. Such a cool name. And he was so much older than I was and so fucking handsome. That really got my blood shifting in my veins. I couldn’t believe he had actually spoken to me with more than just a polite “hello.”
When we shared an elevator, I made a note to remember that he worked on the tenth floor. Was I being nosy? No, I told myself, just friendly and interested. A boy could fantasize, right?
The word “fantasy” brought me right back to reality. I might have responded to Birch’s manners and looks, but I knew nothing about him. Was he even gay? And if so, I was not a good match for just any guy. I had learned that lesson the hard way with my last boyfriend, Matt, who drew away from my penchant for cuddles and toys, even laughed at me for wanting them, and constantly called me “silly” for my teddy bear collection.
At first, I wanted to agree that it was silly. Matt sort of swept me off my feet and I thought if I changed myself to become more of the boyfriend he wanted, things would magically work out. It took me a couple months to realize I was losing sleep over it and becoming more and more self-critical.
When I started to avoid Matt, he became more controlling until one night he pushed me down by my shoulders and wouldn’t let me up.
“You’d be so much happier if you just act normal and listen to me,” he insisted.
Normal. Whatever that was. I broke up with him right then and there and he finally let me up and stomped out of my apartment.
Sometimes, I still caught myself taking the blame for that failure. It wasn’t as if Matt was asking all that much of me, was it? My mind would spiral down the self-esteem black hole and list all the things that were wrong with me.
You’re too needy.
Who collects teddy bears after puberty?
Cuddling is for babies.
If you crave control from above in the bedroom, then stop making demands and just give it up already.
Not even the sweetest or most macho of daddies would want a pouty boy like you who wants to be held as if it’s the end of the world.
When I caught myself in this thought spiral, I never wanted to date again. And a guy like Birch, attractive and older and totally my type, was someone I needed to keep an arm’s length away or I was sure I would just be disappointed again.
As fate would have it, that same Monday night, when my workday was over, I got into the elevator and there he stood. Birch. Smiling at me as I entered and the doors closed behind me.
“Ever?”
“Hi, Birch.”
We both laughed at the same time, facing front. I was still smiling and wanted to speak yet had no idea what to say.
Birch cleared his throat. I waited but he, too, remained silent.
I took a few quiet breaths, my eyes on the numbers above as we descended. The air in the elevator felt charged with something extra, like ions moving between us, circling us in their prickly net. The little hairs all over my body drew up.
I heard him breathe, my imagination telling me it was slightly fast and shallow. On the surface, maybe he liked me?
Nothing could come of it, though, me and my silly boy thoughts.
The elevator doors opened seconds later. The magic moment ended far too soon as we both stepped out onto the shiny lobby floor and headed toward the parking garage entrance.
Birch walked toward the garage elevators. I went straight. Birch turned.
“I’m on level two.”
“I’m on one.”
He nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Yes, I’m sure I will.”
As I got into my car and turned it on, I clicked on the fan. For an early October day, it wasn’t hot out, but my skin flamed. When I checked my rearview, my eyes looked sort of sparkly.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I said aloud.
It was too late.
That night, I dreamed of Birch all night long, nothing X-rated, damn it, but he was there in my sleep smiling, nodding, repeating over and over, “See you tomorrow.”
I woke, hugging my favorite teddy bear, with the dreams clinging to me like tiny caresses. The tingling of them followed me into the shower and all through my hastily made eggs and toast breakfast.
As I drove to work, I kept checking the time to make sure I would be at the coffee cart early enough, before eight, which was when he usually arrived. By the time I parked, I had minutes to spare. I practically ran to the lobby doors.
Once inside, I glanced around. The line at the coffee cart was long. I didn’t see him as I made my way to the end of the line, checking the time on my phone. I was early.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax. Whether Birch came or not shouldn’t have mattered so much to me. We didn’t know each other. These feelings were all in my mind. Yet I kept checking my phone and glancing around the lobby and at the parking garage doors.
Suddenly, I saw him. He glided across the floor with his overcoat unbuttoned and streaming behind him like a cloak in a whirlwind. He walked right up to me.
The person behind me started to complain and I turned. “Go on ahead of me. It’s fine.”
“Thank you,” he grumbled.
Birch joined me, grinning. “Hey, Ever.”
“Hey, Birch.”
Yep. We were doing the casual thing, like everything was no big deal and my own world didn’t come to a halt just because I was looking into his blue-green eyes again.
We started out with literal coffee talk.
“Do you always get a latte?”
“Yes. Do you always get the swirl?”
“Not until last week.”
We talked of nothing important as we waited, yet everything he said seemed witty and funny.
When we reached the counter to order, I went first. Birch stepped up and gave his, then added, “I’ll pay.”
“Oh fuck. You don’t have to do that.” I shoved my credit card at the machine causing him to touch my wrist lightly, which sent an unexpected wave of desire straight through me.
Before I knew it, he’d tapped his card in front of mine and the deal was done.
