Daddy, Daddy Part Two
They brought everything inside after Clint finished grilling. The kitchen smelled amazing — charred burgers, toasted buns, and that smoky outdoor scent that clung to Clint’s black t-shirt. Amelie was already setting plates down on the big wooden dining table like she’d done it a thousand times.
“Daddy, can you grab the ketchup?” she asked, grinning.
Clint gave her a fond look and reached into the fridge without missing a beat. Nick tried not to stare at the way the shirt pulled across his back when he stretched. He failed miserably.
“Sit wherever you want, Nick,” Clint said, voice warm and easy as he set the condiments down. “Mi casa es su casa tonight.”
Nick chose the chair across from Amelie, but before he could even settle, a cold, wet nose pressed right into the side of his knee.
“Oh— hi, buddy,” Nick laughed softly.
Remy had followed them in and immediately zeroed in on the new person. The big golden Labrador sniffed eagerly at Nick’s kneecaps, then pawed at his jeans with one heavy paw, tail wagging so hard his whole body moved with it.
“He likes you,” Amelie said, already piling toppings onto her burger. “Remy’s a total cuddle slut. He’s gonna be your shadow all night.”
Nick reached down and scratched behind Remy’s soft ears. The dog leaned into it instantly, letting out a happy sigh and pushing his head further into Nick’s lap.
Clint chuckled from the head of the table.
And God… that laugh.
It was deep, rich, and warm — the kind of laugh that felt like it came straight from his chest. A real dad laugh. The type that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and showed off the faint laugh lines that only made him look better. Nick’s stomach did a weird little flip.
“He’s not subtle, is he?” Clint said, still smiling as he watched Remy beg for more attention. “Remy, c’mon, let the poor boy eat first, you goofball.”
But Remy ignored him completely, now resting his chin on Nick’s thigh and looking up with big pleading eyes.
Nick couldn’t help it. He kept one hand on the dog, stroking his golden fur while he tried to assemble his own burger with the other. Every time he stopped petting, Remy would paw at him again, insistent and adorable.
Clint let out another one of those attractive laughs, shaking his head. “He’s spoiled rotten. Isn’t that right, Rem? Yeah, you’re a big spoiled baby, huh?”
The baby talk hit Nick harder than it should have. Clint’s voice dropped into this soft, affectionate tone when he spoke to the dog — low and rumbly, the kind of voice that made Nick feel strangely warm inside. He tried to focus on his food instead.
The burgers were incredible, obviously. Juicy, perfectly seasoned. They talked about normal stuff while they ate — Amelie recapping their shopping trip in dramatic detail, the new sneakers she’d convinced Nick to buy, the terrible iced matcha she’d gotten that tasted like grass.
Clint listened attentively, asking questions and laughing at all the right moments. But every few sentences, he’d glance down at Remy and interrupt himself.
“—and then the cashier looked at us like we were crazy, but—” Clint paused, looking under the table. “Remy, buddy, you gotta stop pawing his leg like that. Yeah? You’re being ridiculous, big guy. Such a silly boy.”
Nick smiled despite himself, continuing to pet the dog. Remy’s tail thumped loudly against the floor.
Amelie rolled her eyes. “Daddy’s worse than I am. He talks to Remy like he’s a toddler.”
“Can you blame me?” Clint said, leaning back in his chair. That laugh again — softer this time. “Look at that face. Who’s my good boy? Huh? Who’s the best boy in the whole house?”
Remy’s ears perked up and he let out a little happy woof, still glued to Nick’s side.
Nick’s cheeks felt warm. He kept his eyes on his plate, focusing way too hard on his fries.
After they finished eating, Amelie stretched dramatically. “Okay, I’m going upstairs to change into pajamas. This outfit is cute but it’s not comfy. Nick, you can come up whenever. We’ll watch something in my room.”
She gave her dad a quick side hug. “Thanks for dinner, Daddy.”
“Anytime, kiddo.”
And just like that, she was gone, footsteps disappearing up the stairs.
Suddenly it was just the two of them.
Nick stayed seated, one hand still absently stroking Remy’s head. The kitchen felt quieter now. More intimate.
Clint leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So, Nick,” he said, genuinely curious. “Amelie talks about you all the time, but I don’t know much. What do you do for fun? Hobbies? You into sports, music, art…?”
Nick swallowed. Being alone with Clint felt different. The man had this calm, steady presence that made the air feel thicker.
“I, um… I really like fashion,” Nick started. “Thrifting, putting outfits together, that kind of thing. Me and Amelie do that a lot. I also make playlists for everything. And I’ve been trying to learn how to cook more, but I’m kinda terrible at it so far.”
Clint nodded, listening like he actually cared. “Fashion makes sense. You’ve got good style. That jacket you were wearing earlier? Sharp.”
Nick felt his face heat up at the casual compliment.
Before he could respond, Clint glanced down again.
“Remy, come on, dude. Give him some space,” he said in that same soft baby-talk voice. “You’re gonna annoy him, buddy. Yeah, I know, I know. You just love new friends, don’t you? Such a sweet boy.”
Remy responded by rolling onto his back for belly rubs, legs kicking happily. Nick laughed and reached down to oblige him.
Clint watched them with a small, fond smile. “He doesn’t do that with everyone. Guess you passed the Remy test.”
Nick looked up, meeting Clint’s eyes for a moment. They were kind, but there was something else there too — something steady and observant that made Nick’s pulse quicken.
“How was your day, by the way?” Clint asked, continuing the conversation. “Besides getting dragged around the mall by my daughter.”
“It was good,” Nick said. “Really fun, actually. Your daughter’s the best shopping partner.”
Clint chuckled again — that deep, attractive dad laugh — and Nick felt it settle somewhere low in his chest.
The conversation flowed easily after that, but every few minutes Clint would break off to coo at Remy in that gentle voice, and every single time Nick felt his stomach do that same little flip.
He had no idea how he was supposed to survive an entire sleepover like this.
Tags: @thenickgirl @noellexflwrs
:) if you are reading this, this is currently a scheduled post. I am asleep as this is being published.
