Page 69 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

Nathan leans close, so close that we’re almost kissing. His breath warms my face, the exhale of it soft against my skin. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

My hands run up higher, over his shoulder, and loop around them again. “I can think of a few people that would be totally happy to help us pack your place, too. We could make a weekend of it. Or, you know, a Monday and a Thursday out of it.”

I doubt that we’ll be able to get a solid weekend off, and certainly not both of us at the same time. But I know for a fact that Selma’s brother will come help with the furniture—he’s been out of work since the warehouse he did night shift security at closed down, which means he’s looking for anything to bring in some extra cash.

And I can probably wrangle up a few of my own friends to help with the wrapping, the packing, and the Tabitha entertaining. Josie will absolutely come out.

A strange look crosses Nathan’s face and then he grins, crashing our mouths together in a frantic kiss. “That’s one way to ask someone to move in with you,” he says, between nips and slides of the lip. “The answer is absolutely, by the way, and can we start with tonight or do I have to wait until everything is transferred out here.”

My cheeks go bright red. “I— Sorry! I just assumed. You don’t need to! I should have actually talked to you about it first, I’m just so bad at—” Nathan kisses me quiet. There’s nothing harsh about it, just a passionate but brief press of the lips to steal away my words.

“Stop that,” says Nathan. There’s no sharpness to the order, though. Just a gentle chiding. “We both knew I was going to move in with you. I was cracking a joke.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” I say, the words falling a little flat.

“You’re fine to assume,” says Nathan, chuckling. He’s still close enough to my face that his breath rolls over my lips, and I can’t help but tilt up into him once more.

Just like I can’t help but marvel how something as mundane and simple as a charity auction could have landed me at this moment right here and now, with Nathan leaning against me, kissing me, loving me.

It might have been luck at the start, but it’s more than that now.

It’s the sort of loving connection that I’m never going to get past.

I hope that he knows how much he means to me.

I hope he knows how excited I am to live with him.

Judging from the glint in his eyes when he pulls away, I’m pretty certain that he must.

Epilogue

Nathan

“Goodgirl,Tabby,”Demicalls, clapping her hands and loudly cheering on my sweet girl.

At seven years old, Tabitha looks small on the back of the large sway-backed mare. Gold is an old horse and despite having the animal equivalent of a resting bitch face, Demi has assured me that the mare is a great starting ride.

It’s only been a week since Tabby was let off the lead line. She’s only allowed to walk by herself, but she sits in the saddle with a certain amount of pride; the kind that just totally devours a child her age.

I’m standing on the outside of the riding ring, with our son on my hip. Gabe watches his big sister with a sort of fascination that’s impossible to ignore.

“Look at her go! That’s your big sister out there,” I tell him, pointing toward the ring.

Gabe makes an appropriately impressed sounding, “wow,” and then claps his pudgy little hands together. At the very end of the lesson, Demi steps into the ring and hooks the lead to the corner of the D-ring bit, giving Tabitha a short round at a trot.

The two of them vanish off to the barn afterward to get Gold taken care of—washed, brushed, tack cleaned, the whole nine yards—and I take Gabe back into the house.

“Your sister’s pretty cool, huh?” I ask him, carrying him up the stairs and into the playroom. I park him down on the floor and ruffle his hair.

“Yeah,” says Gabe, happily.

“You know what else is cool? Rocket ships!” I grab the stuffed rocket out of the nearby pile and pretend to fly it into him, complete with the proper sounds to imitate the rocket propulsion system. I zip and zoom it around the room, and eventually crash-land it right into Gabe’s chest.

He laughs, squealing about aliens, and our play continues until Tabitha comes racing into the room.

“I’m the alien now,” she says, making grabbing hands for the stuffed rocket.

“Have fun, kiddo,” I tell her, ruffling her hair. Any concerns that Tabitha might feel left out after Gabe was born had been crushed almost instantly. She became enthralled with the idea of being the ‘best big sister’ that was possible and has since taken her role very seriously.

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