Hot Single Dad(31)

By: Mia Madison

“Would that be this place?” Fuck! She’s already so wet for me.

“It might be. You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

And so I do, and another siesta goes by without a single wink of sleep.



I love being married to Reid and playing Mom to Katie and Jack. I would love to adopt them, but I doubt Mercia will ever allow it. Whatever, I will be like a mom to them, better than their real mother.

That’s not difficult, because I see them every day and play with them, whereas Mercia rarely bothers with them at all. We see more of her in the newspapers and on TV than we ever do in person. I feel sorry for the kids, and I would never try to keep them from their mother, but it suits me not to have much contact with her.

What really bothers me about Mercia and the whole incident at the beach house is that I don’t think she wanted Reid at all when she tried to come between us. She wasn’t jealous because she wanted him back. She just wanted to ruin everything because she didn’t want anyone else to have him.

I heard recently, she’s getting married to a rock guitarist, but I don’t know if it will last. I hope so, for her sake and his. I’d like everyone to be as happy as I am, even Mercia.

Reid catches me playing with the kids one afternoon when he comes home early from the office. We are playing Twister and getting into all kinds of contortions, and end up laughing and collapsing in a heap, game over. The kids give their dad a kiss and run off to play. They are never still for long.

Reid kisses me. “You know I think you’re a perfect mom and a perfect wife,” he says.

“Never perfect. Sometimes, I can be very, very bad.”

“Yes,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s a wonder we haven’t worn out the new naughty step already.”

And I blush, because of the things we have done on stairs in every one of our houses–and not just the stairs—on the weekends the kids have been at their grandparents’.

Iris is still with us during the week to help out, too, though she works fewer hours than she did, giving her more time with her soon-to-be husband. But having her there means that when I’m working, I can disappear into the studio that Reid had made for me, overlooking the apple tree in the garden of our beautiful new house.

Sometimes I go into New York, when I want to see clients or Pablo. I loved working for him and I progressed from intern to designer on his team, but ultimately, I wanted to break off and do my own thing, and he respects that.

I’ve just started out on my own, specializing in the wedding dresses and evening gowns I was always sketching, and so far, it’s going well.

“What have you been working on today?” Reid asks. He doesn’t have a clue about fashion, but he likes to see my drawings, so I fetch the new sketchbook I started this afternoon after I found out and show him the three designs I’ve been working on.

“But those are not wedding dresses,” he says, stating the obvious.

“No, this is a personal project…” I’ve done three designs for maternity clothes, the sketches showing moms-to-be in full bloom.

“You mean…”

“Yes, I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” I stopped taking birth control a few months ago. We decided to see what happened, and now it has. Katie has been saying she’s desperate for a little sister. Jack hasn’t mentioned anything, but I’m sure he’ll be good with a baby too.

Reid gives me a big hug and then eases off. “I’d better not hug you too tight.”

“All hugs are good.”

“What about your studio? You just got going.”

“I can still design. Being pregnant won’t get in the way of that.” I have a lady who makes up the designs, so all I have to do is draw and meet clients. What does he think will stop me? Honestly, men!

“All the same, you’d better be careful, eat well, avoid all the things you’re supposed to avoid. I’ll have to be gentle with you.”

“Reid, you’ve got to stop this. You’ll drive me crazy. Besides…”


“I have plans for you later, to celebrate, and I haven’t got gentle in mind, far from it.”

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

“In that case, Mrs. Marshall, it will be my pleasure.”

“And mine, Mr. Marshall. A thousand times mine and then some.”

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