Page 70 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

Surprisingly, Emma has been supportive of that too. Her desire for Tabitha’s happiness trumped whatever plans she had in mind.

The first months after my final rejection she had been giving me the silent treatment—a joyful change to what she was previously doing—but after finding out about Demi’s pregnancy and our engagement, she decided to let it go, making our encounters much more civil.

I opt to leave Gabe in Tabitha’s capable hands and head downstairs and out onto the back porch, where Demi is waiting for me.

“If it’s not the best trainer out there,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and leaning up against her back. My lips press to the side of her jaw, under her ear, fingers tangling in the front of her shirt. It’s slightly damp from having hosed the horse down earlier.

There’s no way to man a hose with a seven-year-old and not come out of it a little on the wet side.

“Oh, hush,” laughs Demi. She leans back against my chest, tilting her head to the side and offering up even more of her neck to me. I haven’t shaved yet today and there’s the barest hint of stubble that scrapes over her skin when I nuzzle against her throat.

“I’d rather not,” I tell her. “If you want me to hush, you might have to try and give me more incentive for the task. Right now, I’m seeing a lot more benefit in running my mouth.”

“Oh yeah? And where do you think running your mouth is going to get you?” Demi asks, sounding amused. She curls one of her hands on my wrist and runs her fingers along the front of my arm with the other.

I hum, mouth pressed to her skin, letting it muffle my own words when I say, “I can think of a few things.”

“Can you now?” She laughs and turns around in my arms, looping hers around my neck. Demi is just as captivatingly gorgeous now as she was the first day we met.

“At least three of them, we shouldn’t do out here on the front porch.” I slip a hand up under the front of her shirt, letting the fabric bunch up, fingers running over her belly.

My body shields her from the window, but it’s about the most that we can do out here. Last thing that we want is for the kids to come rushing out with their rocket ship and a question about the stars—Gabe’s absolute favorite topic out there. Though their play sessions are usually long and it’s more likely that they’ll just end up napping on the play couch.

Leaning forward, I kiss her again, more passionately this time. There’s a loving note to it, a desperate one. Tongue and tooth and spit, heat that wells up under my veins as I think about all the things that I could do to her, all of the things that I have done in the past and I’m desperate to do again.

We’re both breathless when we part. There’s a blush on Demi’s cheeks, and something bright glittering in her eyes. She wants me right now, just as badly as I want her. She catches her own kiss-swollen lower lip beneath her teeth.

Demi, breathless and soft, asks, “You gonna tell me what you had in mind?”

“Sure,” I say. “Or we could go to the barn, and I can show you what I’ve got in mind instead.”

“Ooh, that one for sure,” says Demi. “Let’s do that one.”

I kiss her once more for good measure.

“For the travels ahead,” I say and then take hold of her hand, half guiding her and half leading her toward the barn. The main house is much closer to the barn. We’ve let a college student move into the guest house under the same conditions that Demi once lived there; they help on the farm in exchange for cheaper rent.

But I know that the girl isn’t home. She’s probably not going to last out here either. Demi keeps wanting to give her another chance but—

My mind is pulled back onto the matter at hand when Demi hits the doors to the barn, pushing them open with one hand. It feels like we’re stumbling into the past all over again, taking solace in a place that has always been Demi’s and has become ours over the years.

We stumble into the dark and the scent of sweet feed and alfalfa floods me.

I can’t help but think about the day that I told her how much I loved her; it had been right here, in this barn. And we’ve raised our family here, made a life here. I’ve seen how it has become more than just a place. How it has become more than just somewhere to live.

The horses are never going to be my thing. They’re big, and they freak me out. But my daughter loves them, and Demi loves them too.

I press her up against the wall of one of the stalls, shoving my hand under her shirt in earnest. The cotton of her bra is easy to push aside, fingers pressing against the soft skin of her breast instead.

She lets out a breathy sound, hooking a hand at the front of my shirt and pulling me closer to her. My hand slides down, shoving into her denim jeans instead. The button is easy to undo, and it’s even simpler to slip the jeans down a bit, revealing her panties.

My knuckles bump against the confines of the cotton but my fingers find the dampness of her slit. And it strikes me there, at that moment, that I’ve never been happier. I have a family with her. A life with her.

And I want more of that.

So between fervent, frantic kisses, I tell her, “I want to have another kid.”

Demi makes a low sound in the back of her throat and spreads her legs a little bit wider, her fingers tangling much tighter on my shirt. “Really?”

---