Page 49 of Small Town Daddy

We turned back to our work. The glasshouse was done, but the decking needed some attention. The easy flow from earlier was gone, replaced by a heaviness that pressed down on me. I picked up a hammer, focusing on the task at hand, hoping the physical work would clear my head.

Lucy was deep in her own world, lost in thought as she measured and cut wood. I could see it in her eyes, the way they flicked between the task and some distant place only she knew. I wondered what was going through her mind, if she was thinking about selling the house or something else entirely.

Should I say something? Tell her what I felt? It seemed too soon, too much pressure. But the thought of her leaving gnawed at me, eating away at my resolve.

The rhythm of our tools filled the air, a constant backdrop to my swirling emotions. Each thud, each scrape, punctuated the distance between us. I stole glances at her, wanting to reach out, but unsure how to bridge the gap.

"Lucy," I started, then hesitated. The word hung there, unfinished, as she turned toward me. Her expression was open, waiting, and it tugged at something deep inside me.

"Yeah?" she asked, meeting my gaze with those searching green eyes.

"Do you want to talk about what Vanessa said?" My voice was cautious, careful not to push too hard.

Her gaze wavered, confusion and anxiety flickering across her face like shadows. "I don't know," she admitted, dropping her eyes to the ground. "I wasn't expecting that. It just . . . threw me off. I didn’t even know that real estate agents made prospective visits like that."

"Yeah, I get that." I stepped closer, wiping my hands on my jeans, the denim rough against my skin. "It's a big decision. But whatever you choose, I want you to be happy."

She sighed, leaning back against the porch railing, her shoulders drooping as if under some invisible weight. "Part of me feels like I should sell and go back to my old life," she confessed, each word a little heavier than the last. "But another part of me feels connected here—in this town, in this house . . . with you." Her voice softened, her vulnerability laid bare. "I'm afraid of making the wrong choice and regretting it later."

Her honesty hit me square in the chest. I felt a swell of hope, mixed with empathy. "I can't make the decision for you," I replied, choosing my words with care. "But I can tell you that these past weeks have meant a lot to me."

The air between us seemed to hum with unspoken possibilities, charged with something electric. I wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but I held back, letting the moment breathe.

We stood there, both caught in the tension of choices yet to be made. The sound of the river murmured in the background, an echo of the life continuing around us, even as we paused on the brink of something new.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. My heart pounded in my chest as I turned to face Lucy. Her eyes were still locked on the river, distant and thoughtful.

"Lucy," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "I've realized that I care about you—deeply." The words hung in theair between us, heavy with meaning. She shifted her gaze to meet mine, and I saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Working together, getting to know you again . . . it's made me see what I've been missing." I hesitated, unsure if I was saying too much, but the truth pushed its way out. "The thought of you leaving makes me realize how much I don't want that to happen."

Her expression softened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. I searched her face, hoping for some sign that I'd reached her.

Then she stepped toward me, her eyes brimming with emotion. "I feel the same way," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of unsaid things. "Being here with you has changed everything for me. I don't want to go back to how things were."

Relief flooded through me, washing away the tension that had been building inside. Without thinking, I pulled her into an embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Our lips met in a soft, heartfelt kiss—a connection that seemed to erase the world around us.

Our kiss deepened, emotions quickening between us. Lucy's fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Her body pressed against mine, fitting perfectly. I could feel the rapid beat of her heart, matching my own. Every touch sparked something electric, a connection that went beyond words.

"Marcus," she murmured against my lips. It was more than just my name; it was an invitation.

I lifted her effortlessly, carrying her inside, feeling the strength of her trust in every step. The house felt alive around us, shadows and light playing across the walls as we moved. We paused at the bedroom door, breathless but certain. I set her down gently, our eyes meeting in silent agreement.

We undressed slowly, savoring each moment, each revelation. Her skin was warm under my hands, soft like silk. She shiveredas I traced a line down her spine, a delicate dance of fingers against flesh. Her scent filled the air—something floral, mixed with earth and summer rain.

"Are you sure?" I asked, needing to hear her say it, needing to know we were crossing this threshold together.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice steady and sure. "I'm sure."

With her consent echoing in my ears, I laid her back gently on the bed. Her eyes were bright with anticipation and trust, urging me forward. I kissed her again, a slow exploration that spoke of all the things I couldn't put into words.

My lips traveled lower, along her neck, pausing to savor her soft gasps. She arched beneath me as I continued downward, worshiping each inch of her skin. When I reached her breasts, I took my time, kissing and teasing until she was writhing beneath me, her fingers clutching at my shoulders.

"Marcus," she breathed, almost a plea, and I answered by moving further down her body. Her thighs parted for me, welcoming, and I settled between them, tasting her sweetness. Every flick of my tongue drew a new sound from her—breathy, urgent sounds that fueled my desire. She held me tight, her voice rising as she whispered, "Daddy."

Hearing that name, edged with need, sent a shiver through me. It was intimate, tender—a bond forged in trust. I moved back up to kiss her, feeling the heat radiating from her body, the way she responded to every touch.

"Lucy," I said softly, positioning myself above her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes held mine, wide and vulnerable, but filled with a fierce determination that took my breath away.

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