Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Don’t be a pretentious prick,” Sarah said, but the words were gentle and she soothed a hand over my back as she passed me to reach for the fridge.
I halted her before she could get to it, hauling her into my arms.
“I was very nice, little darling,” I murmured against her pretty mouth as I slid my hands down over her pert arse. “Even though I very much desired to be otherwise.”
She wound her arms around my neck. “What inspired the angel to kick the devil off your shoulder?”
“You.” I kissed her nose. “Don’t you know you’re my conscience?”
Sarah considered this. “I’m relieved you were kind. Not everyone speaks like a Shakespearean villain, Mr. Cavendish.”
“Our daughter will. She’ll be the finest Shakespearean villain in all the land.”
Her soft body pressed deliciously against the hard lines of mine as she laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Let’s start with contrectation,” I murmured huskily. “This evening. Ten o’clock. Our bed.”
Sarah’s cheeks flushed with arousal. “I think that can be arranged.”
“God, I love you so much it makes me sick.” I covered her mouth with mine, kissing the laughter right off her perfect lips.
JARED
While I was grateful that using some of our farmland to add developments and rentals had not only saved my grandfather’s farm but provided a very good income, sometimes I longed for the days when all I had to deal with were the stresses of the farm. At least then, I was outside, working physically hard and seeing the results of that labor.
Spending the day managing issues with rental properties was not my idea of farm life. By three o’clock that afternoon, everything seemed to be in hand. Allegra was working at her gallery in the village, and it didn’t close until six thirty in the summer months. New fencing was required on the border of Caledonia Sky, the field where we’d built the glamping pods. We rotated the farm fields every couple of years and the adjoining field would have livestock in it. The current fence required reinforcing, but we’d need to dig a trench along it. For the past week, I’d been acting like a manager rather than a farmer while Georgie, my farmhand, did most of the grunt work. I needed less paperwork and more dirt, so I changed into my outdoor gear and headed over to the field.
Two hours passed. I’d removed my shirt and sweat dripped down my forehead and torso. I probably had streaks of mud on my face, my hands were caked with it, and my back ached with the constant movement of digging.
It felt fucking great.
Wiping a hand over my forehead, I reached down for the large flask of water I’d brought with me and caught sight of two women sitting outside their glamping pod, blatantly ogling me.
I gave them a nod and turned away.
I could already imagine what Allegra would say. “Maybe they’ll book with us again in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the hot farmer.” My lips tugged up at the corner because that’s exactly what my wife would say. No jealousy. No insecurity.
She had no need. I showed her every day how much I loved her. Needed her.
An hour or so later, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. I had a text from Allegra to say she was home and that our son, Collum (named for my grandfather), was having dinner at Aria and North’s this evening. I immediately packed up to return home, my body already vibrating with anticipation. Allegra was four months pregnant and horny as fuck. She’d been the same with Collum. Honestly, if it were up to me, she’d be pregnant all the time.
Allegra home alone, though, meant we could be loud.
I practically raced home. As I burst through the front door of the farmhouse, I called, “Where are you?”
There was no answer.
Striding impatiently through the house, I moved into the kitchen and looked out the back window.
Tenderness clipped my impatience. Letting myself quietly out the back door, I watched as Allegra wandered up and down the chicken run, chatting affectionately with her hens. Her cap-sleeved summer dress fluttered in the slight breeze, the fabric caressing the gently rounded belly where our second child grew.
My wife was and always would be the most beautiful woman I’d ever known. It was the kind of beauty she couldn’t see by looking in the mirror, though she’d been very well compensated by the genetic gods. Allegra McCulloch’s beauty glowed from the inside out.
I was a blessed man.
She turned, her strands of dark hair falling from the messy bun on top of her head. She smiled slowly. “Hi, husband.”
“Hello, wife.”
With a skip in her step, Allegra strolled toward me. A heated look entered her eyes. “You’re all sweaty.”
“Been out in the fields.”
“Goody for me.” She wound her arms around my neck and drew me down for a hungry, slow kiss. With a hop, she jumped into my arms, legs wrapped around me, and I carried her inside. We didn’t have to say a word as I climbed the stairs to our bedroom. I pulled off my T-shirt, throwing it in the corner.