I lift the sandwich to my mouth and take a big bite, making sure he’s watching.
His pupils dilate, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. I also know I’ll be coming so hard I can’t see straight in less than an hour.
“Eat,” he orders with a shake of his head.
“Yes,Daddy.”
He laughs, but I know his cock is probably hard as a rock already. “You’re such a brat.”
“Just the way you like me.”
He waits until I’ve eaten half my sandwich before he speaks again. “You working on something good?” he points to the notebook next to me.
“I think so.” I hesitate. “It’s different. But I like it.”
Returning to the cabin was like magic when it came to my creativity, but I haven’t been able to settle on just one thing to write about. Until recently.
“It’s about a young woman who sets out to find herself.”
His brow lifts. I laugh.
“It’s not an autobiography,” I say. “Thiswoman doesn’t settle down. She keeps traveling.”
His expression changes. “You regret coming back?”
“Not for one second,” I answer without hesitation. “Do you regret coming after me?”
“Never.” His answer is faster than my own, and I believe him.
From the moment I saw him standing in front of me, the ocean behind him, I’ve never once doubted his love for me. He chose me, and he continues to choose me with every move he makes. He’s softened since the first time I met him, too. Not dramatically, just in little ways. The lines around his mouth have lessened. He doesn’t hold himself so tight. And more often than not, he sleeps through the night again.
He’s settled.
My dad’s noticed it, too. Not that he likes to admit it.
It took a little time. And he still grumbles when he comes over. Still shakes his head when he sees Holt touch me or pull me in for a kiss. But he’ll stay for dinner now. And I no longer feel like the two men I love most in the world are going to break out in a fight when they’re in the same room together.
Their relationship is coming back, too. Maybe even stronger than ever because now they actually see each other regularly. Because of me.
I know it’s not what any of us planned, but it works.
Our little family.
At the mere thought of the word, my hand goes to my stomach. Holt notices, too.
“I was thinking,” I say slowly. “Maybe we should have a family dinner on Sunday?”
“A family dinner?” He’s watching me carefully.
I nod. “You, me, my dad and…”
“And…”
That’s when I look up and smile. I wasn’t sure until this morning, but my period is officially three weeks late. Frankly, I’m surprised it took so long.
“And our baby—” Before I can even get the words out, Holt is pulling me up off the couch and swinging me around until I’m laughing.
“I’m going to be a father?” he asks when he finally stops and cups my cheeks in his huge hands. “Really?”
