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I saw it every time I looked at them, even as it killed a part of me to admit.
A father.
Thirty-Six
Ryker
Floating on cloud nine, I went through the motions of my morning. They unfortunately did not involve the pony I'd intended to have delivered for Ines.
Apparently, ponies were brats and a ton of work.
Who knew?
It would have to wait until Ines was old enough to help, otherwise Calla might have to quickly become a cowgirl. As much as I enjoyed the thought of her in boots, I suspected she might chafe a little trying to ride a pony naked.
Boots with clothes lost some of the effect.
I'd just have to buy her the boots, anyway. I was sure we could find a use for them.
"Ryker!" Calla shrieked, following me into the bedroom where I stripped the T-shirt off my head. "We have to talk about this."
"Nothing to talk about." I told her, ignoring the way her arms flailed in frustration.
"There is a wedding dress hanging in the closet! You can't just keep steamrolling over me and getting your way. When does it stop?" she yelled, her hands landing on her hips as she glared at me. My cock hardened in my sweats, the sight of her attitude doing the same thing it always did.
It made me want to fuck her into obedience, but the kids made that difficult to do at most hours of the day. "When you're my wife," I grunted, shoving the sweats down my legs. Calla averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing like I didn't have boxer briefs on. I'd have much preferred to go without them around the house, but I didn't need to traumatize the kids with my dick swinging.
That shit was noticeable.
I made love to her most nights, but Calla was still unsure with me. Like she didn't quite know what to do, when all she had to do was be herself. Her cautious, light touches threatened to make me shoot off like a rocket. It was a crime that at her age she was still as uncertain as a virgin because of the number that shit ex had done on her.
A woman like Calla was made to take what she wanted, and I was determined that I'd teach her how to do just that.
Starting with finally getting her mouth on my cock.
"Ryker," Calla sighed, exasperation in her voice. "We are not getting married on Saturday."
"We are," I said as I walked away to grab my jeans out of the closet. I stepped into them as I made my way back into the bedroom.
"So what I want is irrelevant? Again?" There was genuine pain in her voice, like she thought I didn't care what she wanted. The truth was the opposite, I cared enough to see the difference between what she said she wanted and what she actually wanted.
I saw through her bullshit, and her strong, independent woman act. She could be all those things.
Just not when it came to me.
"You said you didn't want to be with me. I pushed you. Did it turn out so horrible?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I stepped into her and tilted her chin up to meet my gaze. She averted her eyes, too stubborn to admit that I'd been right when I told her we would have a beautiful life together. "Did it, Sunshine?"
"No," she said grudgingly, and I could see just how much it pained her to admit that I'd been right. I knew my methods were extreme.
I just didn't care.
"This is the same situation. I'm doing what's best for us in the long-term. I know it seems fast to you, but it's not to me. I waited four years to have you.”
“But I didn’t,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with me to understand. But I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t.
"I'm not saying I won't marry you. We’re just getting started. I’m just asking for a little more time before we make this into something permanent.”
Her eyes widened as mine narrowed on her, and I drew in a deep breath to calm myself before I said something I regretted. That had been the wrong thing for her to say. "This," I said, pausing for emphasis as she connected the dots, "is already permanent, Tesoro."
