Page 111 of Cowboy Daddies

I roll my eyes and keep close by but let him walk up Marci’s driveway by himself. He’s nervous and I understand why.

The door swings open before we can decide whether or not to knock. Marci is standing there, cheeks flushed, apron around her waist, jeans hugging her curves. “Hi!” she says breathlessly. “I’ve been cleaning and moving things all morning. Come in, let’s get you settled.”

I take a moment to appreciate her, grateful for the distraction.

Tripp lets her take his hand on his good arm and lead him into the house. “Are you sure about this?” he asks gruffly. “The trailer is fine.”

“I’m certain,” Marci assures him firmly. “And the trailer may be fine when you are not injured, but you deserve to recuperate in a comfortable home where you have room to move around without banging your arm on something every time you turn around.”

She’s right, and that’s why we gave in when she insisted we move in with her once Tripp was out of the hospital. But I understand why he’s nervous. We’ve never been to Marci’s home before, even to visit, and now we’re moving in. It’s not how we thought our new life would start.

But as we enter, I stop to look around and my breath hitches. Marci’s home is just like her, bright and sunny and cozy, just like I knew it would be. But that’s not what stops me in my tracks. It’s not even the vases of flowers that seem to be on every available surface reminding me just how crazy I am for this girl.

It’s the casseroles lining the kitchen counters. The giant welcome basket in the center of the dining table. The bags with cards attached settled by the couch. Tripp notices it at the same time I do.

“What’s all this?” he rasps.

Marci shrugs. “Just gifts from members of the community. It’s the way Blue River shows up for its people.”

“We haven’t even met anyone,” I breathe. Aside from a few rodeo workers, the doctors and nurses at the hospital and the paramedic that transported us after Tripp’s fall, the only other contact we’ve had with anyone is when we met Marci’s friends at the diner that first night.

“You’ve met me. And you’ve made me happy,” Marci says. “This is just Blue River’s way of saying Thank You and Welcome.” She huffs out a laugh. “Honestly, they are all dying to meet you and say it in person. I had to chase them away when word got out you were getting discharged today.”

“Word got out about that?” Tripp questions, clearly wondering why anyone would care.

“Welcome to life in a small town,” Marci quips. “You’ll get used to it, eventually. But anyway, come on, let’s get you comfortable.”

She helps Tripp over to the couch and he looks decidedly uncomfortable. Marci’s clean, well decorated, somewhat girly home is a far cry from the trailers and crowded apartments we’ve spent most of our lives in.

But he sits anyway, and she sits beside him. I stay standing, looking at the picture the two of them make. It’s nice, but not quite right.

With a deep inhale, I roll back my shoulders and know what I need to do. I thought my taking charge would end once Tripp was out of the hospital, but it seems I’ve got more left in me.

“You know what might make for a real nice welcome?” I say with a twinkle in my eye.

Tripp frowns, his expression full of suspicion that he won’t like whatever we’re about to be up to. He’s wrong.

I cross the room in three long strides, until I’m directly in front of him and kneel on the ground, removing his boots.

“Undo his pants,” I instruct Marci, who quickly and happily complies. I help her work his jeans and boxers off his hips and down his legs until they’re at his knees and then I pull them off completely.

“What is going on here?” Tripp grumbles, but it’s clear he’s not as upset about it as he’s pretending to be.

“We’re giving you a proper welcome home,” I answer as Marci bends down, wrapping her pretty pink lips around his swollen cockhead.

“I thought I was the one in charge in this relationship.” His grumbling and groaning is getting less genuine with every passing second.

I smile, and wrap my hands around his cock, pushing his legs apart to make room for the things I want to do to him. “Guess not anymore. It’s high time for things to change around here.”

Marci pops up, her lips going from his cock to his cheek where she presses a sloppy kiss. “You can be my cowboy Daddy,” she tells him sweetly. “But I think Levi is going to be yours, at least for a while.”

“Damn straight,” I say, a second before my lips descend on his cock.

The End