By the time we finish touring the four bedrooms upstairs, I know it’s destined to be our home.
“What’s down that hallway?” I ask when we come back down the stairs.
Reno leads me through the dining room and down the hall. “Ah, the pièce de résistance,” he says in a French accent that’s almost as bad as his Scottish one.
He opens the large mahogany paneled door to reveal… a library.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking in the natural light coming through the transom windows at the back. The other walls are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves. There’s even one of those rolling ladders that makes my librarian heart go pitter patter. I skip over and step up onto it.
“Babe, be careful,” Reno frets, behind me in an instant with his hands on my waist.
“I’m only on the first step.” I wiggle my butt. “Give me a ride.”
“I’ll give you a ride all right,” he mutters, but he grabs the sides of the ladder and runs the length of the room with me giggling between his arms.
When we get to the end, I turn around to face him, cupping his jaw with my hands. We’re eye to eye with me standing on the rung. “I love this house almost as much as Ilove you.”
“I’ll make an offer next week.” He kisses me softly before sinking to his knees. “And since the house is almost technically ours…”
He lifts my dress and whispers to my belly. “Cover your ears, little ones. Mommy and Daddy are about to christen our new house.”
“Reno, I’m not sure we should—ohhh.” I don’t finish my sentence because he already has my panties pulled to the side, and his tongue is going to town on my clit.
Looking up at me, he grins wickedly. “I want my bride’s taste on my tongue when I go to sleep the night before I wife her up.”
I groan as he laps me slowly. “Only if you promise to fuck me over that desk. I want to walk down the aisle with my husband’s cum inside me.”
“Mmm, that’s a promise I’m happy to keep.”
Thirty minutes later, we both have satisfied smiles on our faces when we go outside to look at the back yard. I look to the right and gasp when I see the fenced-in enclosure about twenty yards away.
My feet are already moving, and I hear Reno chuckle as he follows.
Unlatching the gate, he swings it open and we walk through. Two pygmy goats run up to greet us. One of them is small and quite young, though not a baby. The other is a little bigger.
“Oh my god,” I squeal excitedly, bending to pet their heads. “What are their names?”
Reno pats the smaller one's side. “This pretty girl is Jean, and the bigger one is Billy.”
Jean lets out an adorable bleating noise and prances in a circle. A pink tulle skirt encircles her waist. I laugh and ask, “Why is she wearing a tutu?”
My future hubby grins like the cat that ate the canary. “You know how we don’t have a flower girl for the wedding?” I nod, confused, and Reno sweeps a hand toward the female goat. “Meet Jean, our flower goat.”
I cover my mouth and squeal in delight. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Baylor and I rigged up a small container with a fan in it that Jean can wear on her back. It will blow the rose petals as she walks down the aisle.”
“That’s adorable. And what is Billy wearing to the wedding?”
Reno’s expression flattens. “Billy is not allowed at the nuptials because of his attitude and disrespect.”
He looks so serious I have to work hard not to laugh. “Okay, if you say so.”
“Anyway, I wanted you to see Jean’s skirt, but I need to get it off her so it doesn’t get dirty before tomorrow.” He bends and begins to try and get the tutu off the little goat, but she’s not having it. She wiggles and turns as Reno attempts to gently wrestle the poofy garment from her body.
It’s hilarious to watch, but also incredibly endearing because in my mind, I’m picturing my husband trying to wrangle a wiggly toddler out of their clothing for bathtime. He’s going to be such a good daddy.
Hmmm, Daddy Reno. I might have to call him that later tonight. It always gets him going.
