Playing With Spencer by Izaia Winter
Epilogue
Spencer
There was a stick digging into my back. Lifting my hips slightly, I reached under my body, pulled out the offending twig, and tossed it toward the tree line. Our campsite was located near a small lake. The water was crystal clear and serene, perfect for swimming or a bit of fishing. We were protected by a circle of trees and far enough away from our neighbors to hide any kinky fun we wanted to indulge in. There was a large, steel campfire ring —perfect for smores making when it got dark— and a comfy tent with a thick air mattress and a stuffed animal or four, among them a calico kitten and a tie-dyed bear.
“Look, Daddy,” Turner said as he lifted his hand and pointed up at the cloud slowly drifting by. “That one looks like an alligator.”
I laid my hands on my stomach and settled back down on the grass. “Are you sure it’s not a crocodile?”
He tilted his head as he studied the fluffy white blob. “I can’t tell. Alligators and crocodiles look the same from the side. I still say it’s an alligator.”
“Then an alligator it shall be,” I replied. “Are you going to name them?”
“Axel. Axel the Alligator.” Then Turner pointed to a round cloud with four stubbly bits sticking out. “He’s on his way to Terry the Turtle’s house for tea,” he continued with a grin, looking very pleased with his alliteration.
“Connie the Canary is bringing cookies and cakes and all kinds of candy,” I added, pointing to the vaguely bird-shaped cloud a little further away.
Not one to be one-upped, Turner searched the skies. “Daddy, don’t forget about Donny the Duck who is bringing decadent donuts, delicious dips, and dangerous daiquiris.”
“Okay, okay,” I said as I rolled over and trapped his body beneath mine. “You win.”
Turner smiled and wrapped his arms around my neck. “And what did I win? A kiss? Twelve? A million?”
Sitting back on my heels while still straddling Turner’s legs, I reached into the pocket of my shorts and pulled out a small, flat-black jewelry box. I’d been carrying it around with me for days, trying to find the right moment.
And this is it, I thought as I stared down at my boy.
“How about this instead,” I said as I opened the box and showed him the collar I’d picked out. “Turner baby, will you wear my collar?”
Turner’s lips trembled as he stared at the delicate gold chain and the tiny padlock that was no bigger than his littlest fingernail. “Yes,” he said as his gaze met mine. “Yes.”
Sitting up as best he could, Turner lifted his chin. Pulling the necklace out of the box, I pulled the lock apart, wrapped the chain around his neck, and threaded the padlock back through the two ends to complete the circuit. Reaching up, Turner tenderly brushed his fingers across the tiny charm.
“I love it,” he said in a whisper, his eyes soft with warmth and affection. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, sugar bear. Now kiss me,” I ordered.
And he did.