Page 67 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

“Whatever you want,” I tell her.

“Help getting the house packed?”

I’d insisted on hiring professional movers, but Demi was unrelenting.

She said I’d already spent an enormous amount of money on her with the farm so she couldn’t accept that too. And I know she meant it. The only reason she accepted the farm purchase was because she was desperate to protect that place and the animals, and to hold on to the only stable part of her life and past.

As much as I want to pamper her, and I will, I still appreciate this striking difference with my ex-wife.

“Absolutely,” I say, no hesitation. “I was already planning on offering that.”

“Is that what you called for tonight?”

Is it? I think about it for a moment, trying to figure out what did make me call tonight. In the end, I find myself telling her the truth, “I was just already missing you, and wanted to talk.”

“Yeah?” Demi sounds thrilled to hear it. “Well, I think I can pause my jean sorting to spare you a few minutes.”

A few minutes turn into a solid hour, and then two, and then three. And soon it’s late into the night and we’re still happily talking about the things that make each other smile.

Chapter Thirty

Demi

I’mexpectingNathantobe on the other side of the door when I open it at half past three in the afternoon. I’m not expecting to find Nathan, Costas, and Carter.

The three men trundle into the house, carting four take-out boxes of high-end pizza, and a beer case.

“I figured that you could use some help with this whole mess,” Nathan says.

I laugh. “Oh, my God. You just wanted to get out of carrying the sofa!”

“Maybe,” Nathan answers, with a laugh of his own. He curls an arm around my waist and pulls me forward, kissing me. “You shouldn’t be moving furniture, and I can’t lift the whole couch on my own.”

“I can lift the furniture just fine,” I counter. But I can’t stop smiling when I say it. “I’m not that far along in my pregnancy.”

Nathan kisses the corner of my mouth. “You can direct the show and get the light boxes. You wouldn’t deprive Costas and I of a chance to try and outdo each other, would you?”

Costas, from the kitchen, says, “I’ve got a fifty riding on being able to lift more than Nathan, and carry it for longer.”

I head into the kitchen, where the pizza boxes are sitting on the table.

“I’ve got no bets on anything,” quips Carter. He helps himself to a slice of the pizza, the cheese so hot that it stretches out from the sides, loaded with bacon crumbles. “But I’m happy to make them on who ends up eating more of this.”

The second pizza includes jalapenos in the mix while the third has a generous amount of onions scattered on it. I lift the top of the fourth box to find thick slices of mushroom and chunks of olive.

The smell is amazing. I realize that I haven’t eaten yet today when my mouth starts to water. “I can totally answer that question for you. Me.”

Costas and Nathan snag a piece each; there’s no way to start a Packing Party without eating first. “I can’t believe you’re all out here. I’ve barely gotten anything in boxes.”

“I’m on box duty,” says Carter, lifting his partially eaten slice of pizza up. “They’ve got the big stuff, and I’ve got the back-and-forth stuff. And wherever else you want me, you know, wrapping dishes and stuff.”

“Shit,” I say, “Alright, fine. I can’t turn down that kind of help. I didn’t make any progress last night.”

“My fault,” admits Nathan. “I kept you occupied.”

I shake my head, pulling a hairband off my wrist and using it to pull the hair backward, out of my face. “No. I didn’t get anything done before that call either.” A pause. “Or after.”

Nathan raises his eyebrows at me. He’s tearing into the crust of his slice already. It’s practically soaked in garlic butter, Parmesan cheese, and thick crystals of salt. “You should have gone to sleep after.”

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