I know she’s watching. I can feel her eyes boring into my skin. Her gawking started when I took my shirt off. Frankly, it’s too hot to be working outside with one on, and with no neighbors as far as the eye can see, who cares if I’m shirtless?

Zara cares, that’s who, and each time I walk by the deck where she’s pretending to read a book, I make sure to run my hand over my stomach or flex so she can get an eye full. Guaranteed I’m hotter than any guy she’s reading about in that book of hers.

Last night was a game changer for us. After the debacle at Chet’s, she opened up when I thought for sure she was going to shut right down and tell me that we’re moving too fast. That would’ve been the conventional thing to do. Put on the brakes, lock feelings down and go our separate ways. But Zara is anything but conventional and shocked me by telling me she was falling in love. And boy do I want her to fall.

I told her I’d catch her, and I meant it. If she wants to jump with two feet, I’ll be right there to hold her hand and take the leap with her. I’m there, and my love for her is growing exponentially every single day.

Every. Single. Day.

I don’t care how long it’s been, even though I know we haven’t reached a month yet, I feel like I’ve known her for years, that we’ve been traversing our lives together for eons. Not hours and days. Ridiculous numbers that people think have to be met can’t measure what we have. We’re falling in love with each other, and it’s the best damn feeling in the world.

I disappear into the barn to muck stalls. It’s not fun, but it keeps my mind focused. Right now, I’d rather have Zara spread out on my bed and writhing beneath me. Last night, after the club, I thought about taking her to a hotel but felt that I’d be cheapening what we are building. Instead, we went home and acted like parents who had to tuck their children in. After my mama left, Zara and I met in my bedroom where I helped her out of her dress and heels before I carried her into my shower and made love to her.

Now with Willow being at my mother’s and Stormy training, I’m asking myself why the hell I am doing chores when my house is empty, and my gorgeous girlfriend has been eye-fucking me for the past hour or so.

Just as I decide to give up and go inside to find her, she comes trotting into the barn as if she owns the place. She’s wearing a cowgirl hat, probably one of Stormy’s or Willows, with her hair plaited, along with cut-off shorts that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination to go with a plaid shirt that is tied in a knot, showing just enough skin to make my mouth water.

“Howdy,” she says, coming to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips.

I do everything I can to contain my laughter, but none of it works. “You’re really fuckin' cute,” I tell her as I pull her closer to me.

“And you’re sweaty,” she says as her hands rest on my chest.

“I think you need to be as well.” I pick her up, making sure my fingers are nestled into the opening seam of her shorts, finding out immediately that she’s gone without any underwear. “Jesus, Zara, you’re killing me here,” I say, only for her to place open mouth kisses along my neck until she reaches my ear.

She tugs gently and whispers. “Yeah?” she asks.

“Ye-yeah,” I grunt, pushing my fingers into her core. She bites down on my ear and starts moving up and down slowly as I fumble our way to the back of the barn where the stairs will lead up to the hayloft.

Each step is more agonizing than the previous. The rough exterior of my jeans is rubbing against my hardened shaft; creating the friction I need right now. The caveman in me is tempted to toss her over my shoulders and run fireman style up the stairs.

As soon as I step on the platform, I pull my hand out gently and set her down, only for her to go right for my jeans, working the buckle open and then the button and zipper. Zara pushes my jeans open and grips my dick, pumping me softly. My eyes are rolling back in my head, throwing me a bit off balance. I wobble, only to right myself by grabbing ahold of the overhead beam.

“Have you ever fucked up here?” she asks, bringing out a side of her that she saves for the bedroom. Zara is the most prim and proper woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing until the proverbial door is closed, then all bets are off with what may come out of her mouth.

“No, but I’m about to.” Reluctantly, I step out of her grip and stagger over to a few of hay bales and rearrange them for what I think will be comfortable for Zara.

“Come here.” I beckon her with my finger. As she draws close, I reach out and pull the knot that is holding her shirt together, loosening it so I can take off her shirt. Her barely there bra makes my mouth water, and as much as I want to make love to her right now, I can’t. Stormy isn’t far from the barn with her trainer and Willow could come back from my parents’ at any time.

“Put your hands on the hay bale.” My head nods toward the stack I created, and Zara obliges. With her back facing me, she shimmies out of her shorts and looks at me over her shoulder. The sight of this woman that I love, dressed as a cowgirl, showing me her ass and knowing that her pussy is glistening for me, has my cock leaking.

Bending over and rifling through my pocket to pull out my wallet, I realize that I don’t have it, which means I don’t have a condom. Zara notices the instant look of contempt.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “No condom. I left my wallet on the dresser.”

Zara pushes off the hay bale and shuffles over to me. Her hand caresses my face, her lace clad breasts push against my skin, and my dick jumps to attention at the fact that she’s so near. “I was tested after I found out about Van. My results came back that I’m clean.” She closes her eyes, and I get the feeling that she’s not only berating herself for bringing him up at a time like this but also thankful that he at least saved her the agony of a disease. “What I’m saying is that I’m clean, and I’m on the pill. If you want…”

Hell yes, I want, but I can’t exactly say that out loud.

“If you’re sure, Zara.”

“I am. I want this between us.” She leaves me standing there and returns to her previous position, again throwing me a look over her shoulder. There is no second-guessing, no apprehension on my part. I saddle up behind her and rub the head of my cock between her folds until she bends down even further, giving me an optimum angle.

I sink into her without abandon, moaning at the feel of her walls welcoming me. My hands rest on her hips, and I slowly move in and out until Zara slams herself into me.

“Harder,” she demands, biting her lower lip.

She could ask me anything right now, and I’d give it to her. My fingers dig into her skin as I use her hips as leverage to pound into her. Her sweet moans and the sound of our skin slapping together fill the barn. I lean forward and pull the cup of her bra down and grasp her nipple, tweaking it between my fingertips. Zara cries out more and reaches between her legs to play with her swollen bud.

The crunching of gravel catches our attention. Zara’s head shoots up, and she looks at me. “Hurry up,” she says. I do as she says and replace her hand with mine, massaging the hell out of her clit to make her come because I know that when she does, I won’t be far behind.

The slamming of not one, but two car doors has me thrusting faster than I ever have before. Zara is watching me, with a mixture of pleasure and fear etched across her face. When she nods, I know she’s about to peak, and I pray that once she starts, I’ll be right behind her. The thought of walking around with a raging hard-on doesn’t seem pleasurable to me right now.

Zara bits her lower lip to keep from crying out as her orgasm takes over her body. Her hand covers her mouth to muffle her sounds. I pound harder and relish in the feeling that I am doing this to her, for her, and that’s enough to push me over the brink.

We stay this way, breathing heavily, rocking in and out of each other until I pull out and quickly bring my jeans up. Zara does the same, and before we know it, we’re laughing our asses off.

“That was close,” she says.

“It was thrilling, but I need to finish the job.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Zara heads down the stairs before me, and I breathe a sigh of relief when she yells Willow’s name. We need to be more careful when the girls are around. We could’ve been easily caught, and I don’t know how I would explain the situation to them.

I stay in the loft, moving hay around until I’ve created a wall facing the interior of the barn. I fully intend to bring Zara up here again but want to make sure that we are barricaded from prying eyes.

When I finally walk into the house, it’s noisy, and I find that I love it. I have missed the constant chatter; the feel the house has when people are in it and the love that comes with having a family.

I find Zara and the girls in the kitchen, baking. I kiss Willow and Stormy on the tops of their heads and can’t help myself when it comes to Zara. I kiss her on the lips, much to the snickering and dare I say, delight, of my children.

“Daddy’s kissing Zara,” Willow mocks.

“Yes, he is,” I can’t help but say.

“Does this mean you’re like an official couple?” Stormy asks.

I look at Zara for confirmation. “Yes, we are. Are you girls okay with that?”

Stormy shrugs, but nods while Willow yells out a resounding yes!

“Perfect. Let me go fire up the grill.” I take the tray of meat that I put together this morning out of the refrigerator and head back out to the deck. The window is open, and I can hear my girls, all three of them talking.

Zara is inserting herself into their lives, asking about Stormy’s training and what Willow did with her Memaw. I crack a smile when Zara uses the southern term for grandma, loving that she’s trying to acclimate.

When Stormy asks Zara about continuing her dance studies, telling her that she’s afraid to bring it up to me, I feel about two feet tall. I never meant for Stormy to only focus on barrel racing, but knew she has a passion for that as well.

“I can make some calls for you tomorrow if that’d be okay,” Zara suggests.

“I’d like that. I think I can do both,” Stormy says.

“You can do anything you want,” I tell her as I stand in the doorway. “You can do both or either one.” I shrug. “Or maybe somethin' different. The sky’s the limit, Stormy. I will support whatever.”

It’s at that moment that I know I’ve finally broken through with Stormy. She comes up to me and wraps her arms around me.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispers in my ear.

She will never know how much I love her. It can never be told in songs, words, or even material things. The day she realizes the depth of my love will be the day that she becomes a mother and can experience the instant connection she has with her own child.

Before I can tell her that I love her, Willow wraps her arms around both of us, joining in the lovefest.

“Come on, Zara,” Stormy says, inviting her into our unit.

Right there, in my kitchen I have two of the most important women in my life, welcoming the one I’m in love with into our family.