Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan

Chapter 55

Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown

Chapter 55 My Daddy Is The Best!

Tanya’s POV:

The midday autumn sun rests high in the sky, soothed by a breeze that remains calm and gentle towards all the outdoor stalls and laid out food for the family day event. It begins with various activities for all the families to participate in. Claire skips along in front of us, and I’m comforted by the high spirits that my daughter finds herself in. And I’m ever grateful to Marco for making that happen.

He walks calmly beside me. And whilst I wouldn’t blame him for feeling out of place surrounded by all the parents and children. He blends in perfectly. Conversations with other parents seem like a breeze for him, as he plays the role of a wonderful dad, fully in love with his daughter. I can’t help but admire him quietly whilst he speaks or smiles at my daughter’s playful antics. If only this was real life…

Title of the document

Nevertheless, I savor the moment and enjoy the day. We get up to loads of things. First, we stop by a stall where you’re required to shoot targets to gain points, with the winner getting balloons as a reward. I watch one of the little boys, Elliot, that has been teasing my daughter walk up to her.

“My daddy is very good at shooting! He’ll win and get me those balloons!” he says.

The little boy’s father does shoot very well, hitting many of the nine-point targets, but fails to hit a ten pointer target with the ten shooting pellets made available. My child only shyly nods, clearly unaware of Marco’s ability as she turns to watch him take his turn.

Wanting to impress my little girl, Marco offers me a hint of a knowing smile, and closes his eyes. Even with Marco’s eyes closed, he easily hits the ten pointer targets with all his ten shots, causing the winner

bell to sound off loudly. Claire is ecstatic, cheering delightfully as she’s given a bunch of balloons.

Elliot’s demeanor instantly changes, first to surprise, and then to one of sadness. My daughter notices this, and true to her morals, she turns to him. “Here, you can have one too.”

He blinks at her. “Really?”

“Mhmm…”

“Oh, thank you! Um,” he stammers at first, but eventually the words tumble out of his mouth. “I’m really sorry for teasing you before. I- I won’t do it again,” he says shyly.

“That’s okay,” she smiles, before leading us to the next stall, leaving me and Marco to smile at one another. As we walk past Elliot, he stares up at Marco with a sense of admiration in his eyes towards the older man before him. Noticing this, Marco gently pats the little boy’s head in a form of high regard for his actions. In reaction Elliot smiles broadly, pleased to receive praise from Marco, before running off elsewhere.

As we follow Claire, I can’t help but sneak Marco a smile of approval, noticing his softness round children. He only gives me a small smile, avoiding my gaze to hide his bashfulness.

Next is a game requiring some form of teamwork between the family members. We must carry a ball

together from one end to the other using only our faces. Pressing it between our cheeks to carry it there. For the first half of the distance the child and one parent have to carry it, and then for the second half of the distance, both parents must carry it to the final destination.

I’m the one who joins my daughter at the starting line, with Marco waiting for us at the half-way point. The whistle blows and me and Claire work together, squishing our cheeks intensely against the ball so

it doesn’t fall, while still trying to move as quickly as possible. However, we can’t help but laugh throughout the whole journey, I even see Marco trying to withhold his laughter at how silly we look.

We eventually reach Marco’s location. We can’t touch the ball with our hands, so Claire and Marco have to maneuver carefully so they can switch positions. However, Claire is evidently eager to win, and a little too hasty in trying to get us to be quick. Without waiting for Marco to be fully ready, she removes her cheek from the ball, and it falls.

Marco’s cheek accidentally collides softly into mine. Our faces touch one another’s as we suddenly realize the misplacement of the ball that bounces below us. Our skin only touches for no longer than a second, but are so close, close enough to kiss.

We both quickly pull away upon realizing our mistake. And we can’t help but both laugh from the embarra*s*sing moment. The crowd then cheers for the winning family. But because we are the losing team, we must receive a form of light-hearted punishment dealt out by the winning team.

The winning family chooses the water guns. They get ready to spray, and although I was ready and willing to be sprayed with the water. Upon closing my eyes in preparation, I notice I am barely feeling any of the liquid on my skin. I open my eyes to see the large shadow like figure of Marco standing in front of me, taking the fall for me and letting himself get drenched in water so I don’t get w*et. I can’t help but smile at the sight of this.

After Marco dries himself off with a towel he’s been given, we all head to the cake baking and decorating station. We’re required to bake a cake and decorate it within an allocated time frame. Course Claire is very excited, and use to baking cakes, since we tend to do it a lot at home. However, Marco’s silence seems to capture my attention.

As we get started, Claire takes the lead. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, and like a comical little chef, she calls out orders of what she needs us to do, totally unaware of Marco’s completely clueless to

her words. “Daddy! I need a rolling pin! Stat!”

I watch as Marco turns to get it, although, he stands for a couple of minutes, with a rolling pin and what looks to be another cooking utensil in his hand, secretly debating which is the right one, without showcasing that he doesn’t know the answer.

I gently pat my daughter’s arm, giving her a knowing look, while glancing to Marco. She follows my gaze, before smiling back at me. Together, we step over to Marco, and pull him to the baking table.

“I’d rather just watch…” he says, trying to hide the insecurity in his voice.

“We need to do this as a family,” says Claire, “Don’t worry, we will teach you,” I nod my head with smile.

And so, as a trio, we work on making the cake. My daughter and I only gather the ingredients needed, whilst we let Marco do the main practical elements. It’s difficult for him and he appears flustered at times. “But the dough is so sticky. How is this meant to turn into a cake?”

I chuckle softly. “Don’t worry, you just have to keep kneading it, trust in the process Marco.”

I worry he’d think I’m making fun of him, but he doesn’t. He nods his head in understanding, before becoming focused in his efforts, rolling, and kneading the dough as much as he can. He surprises himself as the dough eventually stops being so sticky, now becoming round and forming into a coherent shape.

Eventually we put the cake in the oven. Claire runs off to play for a bit while I wait at the table. Marco however is pacing in front of the oven door comically. Every now again he closely checks on it, squinting to try and see the through at our cake. He repeatedly opens the oven door, and on the third time I have to stop him.

“You can’t keep opening the door, you’ll let all the hot air escape,” I say playfully.

“But it’s taking too long. Why is it taking so long?” his impatience is adorable, he clearly wants this to turn out good despite never having baked a cake before.

“Because good things take time Marco,” I give a soft smile, and eventually after much consideration in his head, he returns my smile on a small scale, finally agreeing to sit beside me as we wait.

Eventually however, the cake is ready. Marco calls Claire back over, and he’s almost just as excited as she is as we take the cake out of the oven. We let Claire cover the cake in her cream of choice before we let Marco try making designs with me on the sides and top of the cake. His manly hands aren’t as delicate as mine, and whilst he tries his hardest to move the piping tool and bag carefully to get a pattern round the side. His hold inevitably slips, creating a long line that’s out of place from the rest.

He huffs, dropping his shoulders in defeat. “I’ve ruined it. Haven’t I?”

I shake my head while smiling. “Who said every cake had to look exactly the same?” he now looks up at the surrounding cakes, noticing how everyone’s looks exactly the same, but are all boring because of this.

He quirks the side of his lip, puffing his chest in some form of pride that our cake would be different. He nods, before continuing to work hard at decorating the cake. When it’s all done, Claire wonders back over, and without a single word to the two of us, she dips her fingers into the cake’s cream and daps it on Marco’s nose.

Marco is startled at first, looking comically cross-eyed at the whipped cream on his face. But his expression soon relaxes. He then dips his fingers into the cake, smudging cream onto my daughter’s face, before smudging it against mine too. We all laugh together at the comical situation we find ourselves in.

As I laugh, I notice Marco is looking at me with a sense of curiosity in his gaze. “Have we done this before?” I blink, not knowing how to answer. “I feel like I’ve met you before.”

Before I can say anything, Claire yells out to us, calling us over to do the next event, leaving the question I desperately want to answer, hanging in the air between us.

After a whole day filled with fun activities, we finally head home. We’re walking towards our house when I see Mr. Barlow arguing with Raphael. Raphael is known as the b*ull*y among the pack members. He always causes fights and generally always gets his way. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

They seem to fight over a badge in Mr. Barlow’s hand, and Raphael is threatening to attack.