Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3) - Page 189

All the girls at Crystal and Morgan’s wedding in Jamaica.

Devon’s first nationally recognized article on the US families affected by terrorism.

Devon and Quinn’s first award–winning piece on child prostitution rings.

All of us at Nate and Jamie’s wedding three years ago.

Quinn and Dean holding their son.

When we get to the eight by ten frames hanging over the fireplace, I stop and take Emma’s little hand and point.

“That’s your mama and daddy on our wedding day.” Then I turn. “And this, little girl, is the day you were born. Look at that princess.”

My eyes get misty at the portrait of the three of us in the hospital bed. Emma was so small and wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket.

“That’s also the day I lost my mind because I agreed to name you Emma Quinn. But when your mama looked at me with tears in her eyes, full of so much love, I’d have agreed to anything.”

Emma giggles and slaps me playfully.

“Okay, little one, we need to brace. Your mama is going to get up any second, and when she sees the present I left on the bathroom counter, she’s going to flip. So I think we should start the French toast now.”

I sit Emma in her high chair with some cut up bananas and hurry to get Devon’s favorite breakfast ready. Emma and I both go still when the shout roars through the house.

“BRYCE DAVID RANDOLPH!”

“Oh yeah, I’m in trouble. Stick with me, baby girl.” Emma spits and wriggles excitedly at Devon’s voice.

“What the H-E-L-L is this?” Devon waves the box at me from the kitchen doorway.

“Babe, we’ve used them before,” I say seriously. We should buy stock in those little sticks after the dozen Devon used with Emma.

“Don’t be cute. You used to give me diamonds and pearls. Now, you give me pregnancy tests?”

“It’s really a formality. I already know the answer.” I shrug and plate the toast.

“How can you possibly think you know more than me when it comes to my own body?”

I hang my head and debate how far to take this. When I peek back at Devon, it’s undeniable. Even aggravated, she’s glowing.

“You really want to know?”

“Absolutely!”

I go to her and lean into her ear, shielding Emma. “Babe, your tits are so sensitive they’re always hard.” I run the tip of a finger over one to prove my point. “This morning, the second my tongue circled your nipple, you moaned with pleasure and pain. The last two days, you’ve let me fuck you everywhere, practically begging for it. We left a dent in the bedroom wall. Then, this morning, you took control and rode me so hard I came twice.”

“Oh my.” She braces on my chest, and I can tell she’s turned on again.

“See, you’re ready to go at just my words.”

Her eyes lock with mine, and she clutches my neck, rubbing a thumb over my jaw. Understanding washes over her face. “Are we ready for another baby?”

“Been ready since we left the hospital with Emma. And when it’s confirmed, we need to start looking for that house you mentioned.”

&n

bsp; “House?”

“When I was in a coma, I remember you mentioning three kids and a Victorian home.”

Tags: Ahren Sanders Finding our Way Romance
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