Sugar Daddy(248)

Gage and I sleep in the master bedroom downstairs. We make love in a king-sized poster bed, beneath hand-stitched quilts. Sensitive to my mood, Gage takes it easy and slow in the way that never fails to drive me crazy, drawing out every sensation until my heartbeat is hammering in my throat. He is strong and hard and deliberate, every gentle movement an assertion of something beyond words, something deeper and sweeter than mere passion. I go rigid in his arms, muffling a cry against his shoulder while he coaxes long, delicious shudders from my body. Then it's my turn to hold him. I put my arms and legs around him,

wrapping him tightly in myself, and he gasps out my name as he surges and quickens.

We both wake up at daybreak as the wintering snow geese honk and flap across the fields on their way to breakfast. I lie snuggled against Gage's chest, listening to the mockingbirds serenading us from the oak tree by the window. They are relentless.

"Where's the gun?" I hear Gage mutter.

I hide my grin against his chest. "Easy, cowboy. It's my ranch. Those birds can sing all they want to."

Just for that, Gage replies, he's going to make me go with him on an early morning ride to check out my property.

That causes the smile to fade. There's something I've wanted to tell him, but I haven't been sure how or when to do it. I am quiet, playing nervously with the hair on his chest. "Gage.. .1 don't think I'm up for riding today."

He lifts up on one elbow and looks down at me with a frown. "Why not? You feeling okay?"

"No—I mean yes—I feel fine." I take an uneven breath. "But I have to ask the doctor if it's all right before I do anything that strenuous."

"Doctor?" Gage rises over me, taking my shoulders in his hands. "What doctor? Why the hell would you..." His voice fades as it dawns on him. "My God. Liberty, sweetheart,

are you..." He immediately moderates his grip, as if he's afraid of crushing me. "You're sure?" I nod, and he gives a delighted laugh. "I can't believe it." A flush of color has made his eyes startlingly light by contrast. "Actually, I can. It was New Year's Eve, wasn't it?"

"Your fault," I remind him, and his grin widens.

"Yes, I'll take full credit for that one. My sweet girl. Let me see you."

I am immediately subjected to an inspection, his hands sweeping over my body. Gage kisses my stomach a dozen times, then levers upward to pull me into his arms again. His mouth descends to mine repeatedly. "My God, I love you. How do you feel? Do you have morning sickness? Do you need crackers? Pickles? Dr Pepper?"

I shake my head and try to talk to him in between kisses. "I love you...Gage...love you..." The words catch sweetly between our lips, and I finally understand why so many Texans refer to kisses as "sugar-bites."

"I'm going to take such good care of you." Gage lays his head gently on my chest, his ear pressed to the rhythm of my heart. "You. Carrington, and the baby. My little family. A miracle."

"Sort of an ordinary' miracle." I point out. "I mean, women have babies every day."

"Not my woman. Not my baby." His head lifts. The look in his eyes takes my breath away. "What can I do for you?" he whispers.

"Just say a simple 'thank you/" I tell him. "and have sex with me."

And he does.

I know without a doubt this man loves me for exactly who I am. No conditions, no limits. That's a miracle too. In fact, every day is filled with ordinary miracles. You don't have to look far to find them.



The End