Page 50 of A Stable Daddy

“Hey, so, are we ready to get this show on the road?” Mak asks, joining us. She’s dressed like Sarah, in a summery dress that reminds me of the sunset here on the station, in splashes of yellow, orange and pink. She, like Sarah, is wearing ankle-high boots instead of heels, because it makes no sense to wear high heels on this terrain. Her dark hair is piled high on her head, and her makeup is light and natural. “Also, can I lodge a complaint with someone abouteveryman on this station being gay? Like…is that even believable? How is there not one single bi or straight man out here?”

“Jim’s bi…” I start, and she raises an eyebrow at me, planting her hands on her hips.

“Papa, he’s only got eyes for the short, shy guy.”

“Dusty.”

“That’s the one.” She huffs. “So, I’ll amend my complaint. Why aren’t there anyeligiblemen who like women out here, hmm?”

We leave the cabin and start the short walk down to the paddock where the marquee is set up. It looks idyllic, with the mostly-green field where the sheep live looking particularly lush under the bright blue sky.

“I didn’t think you were looking for a relationship,” I wonder aloud as we walk.

“A relationship, no. A fun time at a wedding, on the other hand…” she rolls her eyes as Trev gags dramatically.

“Children,” I admonish lightly, and Sarah giggles.

“It’s so weird hearing you try to be all…” she rolls her wrist, searching for the right word.

“Dominant?” Trev offers with a cheeky smirk. “Daddy-ish?”

Sarah bursts into a renewed peal of giggles and I groan, “Notbothof you!”

“You introduced them,” Mak tells me, as though I’d had any control over their short meeting only a few minutes ago, “so this is on you.”

“You’re right. Oscar and I should have eloped. I hear Vegas is fun any time of year.”

Mak turns around and smacks my shoulder.

“Trev’s right,” I declare. “We really ought to do something about this violent streak of yours.”

By the time we reach the marquee, my cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing. There’s not even a hint of anxiety, and certainly no second-guessing my decision to marry Oscar.

The marquee is large and white, and between Sarah and Rob, the inside has been strung with fairy lights for the reception which will follow the ceremony. There are large floor vases containing sprays of native flowers —bright red Western Australian waratahs, yellow pincushions, orange banksias, billy buttons, wattles and bottle brushes— interspersed with eucalyptus leaves and other sturdy greenery, and the whole set up is just stunning.

However, I miss all of that detail as Oscar comes into view. We decided that neither of us would do a traditional aisle walk. Instead, we would enter the marquee from opposite sides and meet in the middle in front of the small gathering of family and friends. It’s just us and the celebrant standing in front of everyone as my kids and Sarah take the seats reserved for them at the front of the room.

I was right: Oscar in a suit is something to behold. It appears to have been tailored to his body, the flawless matte black fabric stretched across his shoulders but tapering in neatly at his trim waist and hips. His tattoos peak out from his collar and over his exposed hands, and it makes me salivate.

His smile makes my already untrustworthy knees weak, but when he reaches out to take my hands in his, it steadies me. The warmth of his skin against mine, his calloused palms dry and his hold firm, grounds me to this moment.

This is my Daddy. My partner. My second chance at a happily ever after.

And I can’t wait to get him out of that suit.

* * *

“I can’t believe Dusty danced on the table,” I laugh, flopping down on the mattress of the honeymoon cabin. It gives me a little thrill to realise that we’re actually using it for our honeymoon this time. “Jim’s face was priceless. Did you see him trying to coax Dusty back down?”

Oscar chuckles. “Those two will work out that they’re head over heels for each other one day.” He comes to stand in front of me and extends his hand. “C’mon, darlin’. You’re not sleeping in that suit.”

The ceremony was beautiful. It was everything we asked for. Short and sweet, telling an abridged version of our story (there was no sense in getting the celebrant to go into the kinkier stuff) before we exchanged vows and rings and kisses. Then we hopped on horses (followed by the photographer in a ute) to have some spectacular wedding photos taken on the property before we headed back to the marquee to join everyone for the reception and party. It went so well, in fact, that Rob is considering advertising the station as a wedding venue now, in addition to the farmstay side of the business. I think it’s a great idea. Then again, I’m hopped up on the endorphins from the day.

Even so, I’m also suddenly exhausted, and the idea of having to get up again now that I’ve sunk into the soft mattress is not at all appealing. “No,” I whine. “Come cuddle, Daddy.”

“I will. Once we’re both out of our suits. C’mon.” Oscar smirks. “Or do you want to give me a reason to spank you on our wedding night?”

“Do you need to have a reason?” The exhaustion is replaced by a burst of arousal. What a roller coaster of emotion!

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