Page 47 of His Little Stowaway

“Agriculture,” I explain to him every time as if he’s one of the kids.

He always makes an ‘Aha!’ face as if he’s just unraveled the biggest secret in the world by hearing what it is I do again.

“So daddy’s not the only one who gets to ride the tractor,” I tell Juliette and the twins, who are only just old enough to start asking the real curly questions.

Pearce had suggested finance, hinting I could even land a good job with a firm he knows…

“I know a guy. I could maybe hook you up,” he teased me but told me just as quickly that he fully supported whatever I chose.

“But… Agriculture?” he does ask sometimes.

Did ask when I first told him about it.

“Makes sense to me.” I shrug when he asks again, running my hand over my belly, wondering if it’s the right time to tell him about that little something else or maybe wait.

“I seem to be designed to grow things,” I remark, satisfying some of his curiosity and he admits that’s the truth.

“You sure are one fertile valley,” he grins, taking hold of my hand, and reminding me in a husky tone that the twins are asleep and the other two are watching a movie.

Even with a growing family, short on time, we do have alone time together, some moments longer and more useful than others.

And as busy parents, as well as two people who are still crazy about each other, Pearce and I, take every chance we get to share our love together and in private when everyone else is busy or asleep.

“Front door’s locked, the back door too,” he tells me. “Movie’s just started, it’ll be at least a half-hour before they want anything,” he adds hurriedly, already unzipping himself.

“Well? Don’t just stand there,” I pretend to scold him. “Pick me up and carry me over your shoulder to the bedroom… And show me just how fast you can go until we’re both...satisfied,” I coo.

He makes a familiar and powerful low growling sound.

The kind I never tire of hearing as it rushes through my body.

“I love you, Brynn. Wife. Woman. Little stowaway,” he grunts, hitching me over his shoulder caveman style.

I have to cover my mouth to stop from calling out, letting him manhandle me all the way to the bedroom. Only ever convinced I’m not dreaming once he’s holding me close again.

Inside me or spooning with me afterward.

Having a man like Pearce caress me in his arms, the family we’ve both dreamed of safe, happy, and healthy.

It doesn’t get any better than this, but it does.

“I love you, Pearce. Husband. Man of my dreams come true to life.”

Love of my life. My best friend.

My hero.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com