The doorbell rings and I take a deep breath before answering.

  “Hi Mom, hi Dad! I’m so glad you’re here!”

  Jonathan and Zara each squeeze me tight in a hug. “We wouldn’t miss a gender reveal party for anything in the world. This is our first grandchild after all!”

  I smile with tears in my eyes because to say my parents were shocked to find out about Marcus and me would be an understatement. They knew him, of course, but only as my best friend’s dad. However, once they got over that initial surprise, they were happy for me. They adore Marcus now, and have realized that the two of us are great for each other.

  Marcus shakes my dad’s hand and hugs my mom.

  “It’s good to see you Jon. How are you, Zara?”

  “Overwhelmed to meet my new grandchild! Excited. You both look amazing. Especially you, darling,” my mom coos. “How are you feeling?”

  I rub my enormous belly. According to the doctor, I’m seven months along right now, and I nod.

  “I feel good. I definitely have some weird food cravings, but other than that, it’s been wonderful. I’m never sick and sleep really soundly at night.”

  At that moment, Faith walks in and greets us.

  “Hi Mommy-to-be! How are you? And how’s the little bugger?” she asks, indicating my big belly.

  I laugh.

  “I hope you don’t call him or her ‘bugger’ after they’re born.”

  “Of course I won’t,” Faith chortles. “I’ll just call them ‘Bug’ instead.”

  I laugh and clap my hands. “Okay, okay. We’ll have to talk about that more, but is everyone ready to eat?”

  “Bella cooked a feast for us, so I hope you’re all hungry,” my boyfriend growls. “There will be leftovers for sure.”

  “I’m starving,” Faith exclaims while following her father into the dining room. We rarely use this space because we usually eat in the kitchen, or on the couch in front of the TV. But since tonight is a special occasion, we decided the formality would be nice. Our guests ooh and ahh as we serve the scrumptious meal: there’s roasted chicken, potatoes, broccoli and a gooey mac and cheese that has my friend gasping with delight. Faith can’t even get out any words, merely a long moan of enjoyment as she gobbles down the cheesy deliciousness.

  After dinner, we chat lightly until my mother jumps up, her hand trembling a bit.

  “I want dessert!” my mom announces.

  I shoot her a smile.

  “Mom, we just finished eating. Just give me one second to digest,” I laugh. But my mom shakes her head.

  “Make room for cake, honey. It’s the special one, remember?”

  My eyes widen. Marcus and I gave my parents the envelope with our baby’s sex in it and asked them to make a gender-reveal cake for us. That’s right, I’d forgotten in the flurry of preparation.

  My mom re-enters, bearing a huge cake in her hands, and Marcus reaches over to hold my hand. I can barely breathe as he squeezes my small palm.

  “Alright, you two. Here we go!”

  Smiling, we take a knife together and slice into the cake slowly. The interior is a gorgeous shade of light blue.

  “We’re having a boy!” I exclaim with tears in my eyes, throwing my arms around Marcus’s neck. We nearly fall out of our chairs, but everyone is laughing in excitement.

  “A little brother!” Faith chortles. “That’s awesome. He’s going to have the best big sister ever.”

  “Yes, he is,” I say, squeezing her hand. “And the best grandparents too.”

  My parents have tears in their eyes as they hug one another, almost as if they’ve won a grand prize. As Marcus divvies the cake, I beam happily. How could life get any better? But when I bite into my slice, my teeth crunch into something hard. It’s metallic and oddly slippery too.

  “What the heck?” I say, spitting out the object. And there, on my plate, is a little plastic egg. “Mom, what is this? Did you drop something in the batter?”

  My mother smiles at me mysteriously. “I think you should open it, sweetheart.”

  My heart’s beginning to race because I have an idea of what I’m going to find. With trembling hands, I pull the egg open, and suddenly, there’s a touch at my elbow. Marcus is kneeling beside me, his handsome face expectant. Sure enough, when I look down at the open egg in my hand, there’s a beautiful, sparkly diamond ring.

  “Oh my goodness,” I gasp with tears in my eyes. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Yes, honey,” Marcus growls beside me. “Bella Grace Samuels, I love you with all my heart, and I can’t wait until our baby is born to make us even more of a family. I want more children with you, and I want to spend my future with you as well. Will you marry me? Will you make this wretch a happy man?”

  I’m so delighted that I can’t speak for a moment. But finally, I get the words out.

  “Yes!” I say in a soft voice. “Yes, I’ll be your wife. I love you so much.”

  With that, my fiancé takes the ring and slips it on my finger. It’s a beautiful princess cut diamond on a silver band, glimmering in the light. My parents and Faith ooh and ahh, delighted by the turn of events. Meanwhile, I look at my man once more, and see that he’s gazing back at me with tears in his eyes. One big hand goes to cover my distended belly, while the other raises my fingers to his lips.

  “I love you, Bella,” he murmurs, for my ears only. “It’s always been you.”

  With a happy sigh, our lips meet because I was meant for this man, and he was meant for me as well. Yes, he’s my best friend’s father, but in the end, it didn’t matter. What matters is our love for one another, and the deep passion that will carry us through the rest of our lives together.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

  Did you like Faith? The sassy girl gets her own tale next in My Mom’s Ex-Husband, available here.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, you’ll also like The Baddest Bad Boy (Troy’s story) and My Stepmom’s Boyfriend (Travis’s story). They all take place in Medina, the most romantic small town in the United States!

  * * *

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  Sneak Peek: The Sweetest Revenge

  Dakota

  In a horrifying discovery, Dakota catches her boyfriend and her mother making out upstairs.

  * * *

  Pulling into the driveway at home, I drop my head back and close my eyes. I love my job at Red Bean Coffee. My co-workers are great, and so are our customers. Plus, being a trained barista has its benefits because when my own caffeine cravings hit, it’s easy enough to pull a shot. But today was a long day, and I didn’t have a chance to take a lunch so I’m starving and grateful to be home. I’m just thankful that our last customer got their latte and left without lingering around the shop.

  Opening my eyes, I take in the mansion I live in with my mother and shake my head before heading inside. After my parents divorced, Denise, as my mother prefers to be called in front of others, became a realtor. It wasn’t long after when she bought this house. The place is over the top with its seven bedrooms and six baths, but she insists that good realtors have to live in extravagant homes if they want their clients to trust them. Of course, in her opinion a house is either palatial, or it’s a dump; there’s no in-between. I guess it doesn’t matter that these digs have her overextended with a massive mortgage she can barely cover.

  But hopefully, I’ll be able to move out soon. Living with my mom has never been easy, but now that I’m in community college, it seems like her bitchy attitude has taken on new strength. Particularly when it comes to my weight. Denise is as thin as a whip, and in her opinion, skinny is the only acceptable weight for all women. She keeps her figure paper-thin through a steady diet of nothing at all. I swear, she lives on water and punishing workouts. I’ve seen her suck the flavor out of an almond here and there, but I’m certain she’s never been bold enough to actually swallow one. Calories are a girl’s number one enemy, after all.

  By contrast, skinny and I do not belong in the same sentence. I am, and have always been, a curvy girl, much to my mother’s dismay. No matter how many diets I’ve tried, or how much I exercise, I cannot make the number go down on the scale. In my mom’s opinion, that means I’m not trying hard enough, a.k.a., I haven’t thrown myself into the diet where I starve myself completely while working out more hours a day than I sleep. I just can’t do it. I like food, and I absolutely detest being hungry.

  But at least Denise isn’t home right now, so I can cook in peace. Putting a pan on the stove, I pour in light olive oil, and put the heat on medium. Then, I grab a chicken breast from the fridge and season it with garlic and rosemary, as well as a dash of salt and pepper. Even though I can’t lose weight, I still appreciate eating delicious, mouthwatering meals, and enjoy preparing food too. After all, life is short and eating is one of the great blessings of being human.

  Suddenly, a loud thumping sound distracts me right as I’m about to add the chicken to the hot oil. I groan to myself. We had raccoons in our attic last year, and it was awful. They’re probably back again, and my heart sinks because getting rid of rodents when your mother refuses to pay a professional exterminator is a huge pain. I’m not looking forward to confronting the varmints all over again, but what choice do I have?

  Sighing, I turn off the stove to be safe and stick the plate with my still uncooked chicken breast on it back in the fridge before heading upstairs to look for the raccoons. Hopefully, they’re friendly this year.

  I trudge to the main landing upstairs, but surprisingly, the sounds aren’t coming from above my head. Last year, I could definitely hear the raccoons scurrying about on the roof, and it was awful. It’s hard to fall asleep when the scuttle of small rodent feet keeps scratching relentlessly. But today, the noises are coming from down the hall this time. Really? Did the raccoons find some way to get into the walls? God help me, but I hope they’re not indoors. I would absolutely scream.

  Tentatively, I creep down the hallway. I don’t want to confront the rodents, but I know I have to because Denise certainly won’t, that’s for sure. Some things don’t bother my mom at all. She likes her life to look nice on the outside, so our house always has a perfectly manicured lawn and an immaculately swept driveway. But on the inside, things could be falling apart and she wouldn’t care. We could live in a dump, as long as people don’t see.

  Slowly, I stalk closer to the master suite in the back. By now, the scratching sounds have turned into odd thumps, and I pause. The raccoons must have gotten a rock, and they’re banging it against the carpeted floor. But why would they do that? Creeping closer, I lean forward and peer into the master suite. I half expect to see rodents riding around on tricycles, but a gasp escapes me instead because it’s not raccoons at all. It’s my mom and my boyfriend Eddie humping like rabbits!

  “Unnnh,” Denise moans in a low voice as Eddie drills her from behind. She’s on her hands and knees, trying to muffle her moans in a pillow, but my boyfriend grabs her hair then, and jerks her face up.

  “You like it, don’t you, you naughty MILF?” he rasps in a low voice. “Who knew you were such a slut?”

  Denise can’t respond, but her expression is one of pure ecstasy.

  “Mmmm!” she cries again. Then, Eddie pounds especially hard, and I realize what the thumping noise was – the bed frame, knocking against the wall. At that, I let out a shrill scream as the blood runs cold in my veins.

  “Mom? Eddie? Oh my god! What are you doing?”

  It’s a stupid question because I can see clear as day what they’re doing, and the sight is absolutely horrific. How can this be happening? After all, Eddie is my boyfriend, not hers. My boyfriend, whom I hardly ever have sex with because he has a problem getting his dick to stay hard.

  But they keep going, so I scream again. “Mom! Eddie! Stop, STOP!”

  Another millennium passes and they don’t even look up. They’re going at it like wild beasts, their flesh slapping together as the headboard bangs. Finally, Eddie grips my mom’s narrow hips and lets out a huge groan.

  “Unnnh!” he bellows. “Fuck!”

  Clearly, my boyfriend’s just come, and something’s happened to my mom too because Denise shudders violently as her pussy pulses. She lets out a small mewling noise, her tiny frame trembling, and then they pull apart and collapse on the bed, sweaty and naked. Only then, do they see me standing there, my mouth gaping open.

  “Mom?” I whisper in horror. “Eddie? What’s going on?”

  At that, Denise reaches around, pulling a blanket over herself as she sits up against the headboard, looking a bit embarrassed. But of course, it’s too late. I’ve seen more of her than any child ever wants to see of their parent.

  Meanwhile, Eddie isn’t as modest and scrambles up next to my mom in all his naked glory. He’s got your typical high school jock good looks with blue eyes and blonde hair, and a decent six-pack of abs. But none of that matters because he was just diddling my mom! Who does that? Denise has got to be at least twenty years older than him.

  Unfortunately, Eddie doesn’t even appear embarrassed. The arrogance in his stare as he tosses an arm around Denise’s shoulders makes me want to slap him and scream while crying at the same time.

  “What the hell are you guys doing?” I shriek again. “Mom, why? You’re old enough to be his mother!”

  The skinny woman immediately sits straighter, clutching the sheet to her breasts.

  “Watch your tone, young lady. I am not old. Are you implying that I’m old?”

  I roll my eyes through the tears. “Yes, because you are old! You’re two decades older than him!”

  Meanwhile, Eddie squeezes closer to her on the mattress.

  “Ignore your daughter, Denise. Dakota’s just pissed because you’re hotter than her.” He runs his eyes up and down my body with a look of disgust and grabs his crotch in a vulgar manner. “No matter how much I tried, my dick couldn’t get hard looking at her fat ass. It was that bad. None of this is your fault, sweetie.” Leaning over, he kisses my mom’s cheek, and I nearly puke when she blushes. “Guess my anatomy knows quality when it sees it.”

  I swipe at the tears streaming down my face because this is absolutely unbelievable. Can this really be happening? Did my boyfriend just bang my mom and blame it on me?

  “What is wrong with both of you?” I scream again. “This isn’t how a mother treats her child!” Then, I narrow my eyes at Eddie. “And you have erectile dysfunction! I don’t know how you got it up this time, but it was probably using drugs! Tell me, was it a blue pill? Cialis? Viagra? Something illegal from Mexico? Don’t you dare blame me because we both know the real problem is yours. You are nothing but a tiny little boy with a tiny little cock. We are so done!”

  Eddie’s face turns red and you can tell I’ve hit a sore spot. He makes to get out of the bed with a threatening expression on his face, but it’s too late because I’m out of here. In a rush, I turn around and take off down the stairs, grabbing my keys from the entry table before dashing out to my car. I don’t care what happens now. The ultimate betrayal has just occurred, and it’s time to escape the scene of the crime.

  * * *

  To be continued …

  The Sweetest Revenge is now LIVE! Pick up your copy here.

  Sneak Peek: Falling for My Beautiful Ward

  Tristan

  Daisy is curvy and irresistible, but I’m also the sweet girl’s legal guardian.

  * * *

  I wasn’t wrong when I said Daisy had plans. It all came out at dinner one night, over some medium rare steak. Chef had done well, the beef juicy, red, and so tasty it melted in your mouth. I could feel Daisy watching my every move, those brown eyes warm and luscious.

  But I kept cool, eating like nothing was wrong.

  “How was school?” I asked casually through a forkful of the good stuff, chewing thoughtfully. Before she answered, I glanced over at Daisy’s plate, steak untouched, growing cold. I raised an eyebrow.

  “Something wrong with your food?”

  The girl bit her lip slightly, that pout pillowy and soft. How I’d love to take them between mine and taste the sweetness, run my tongue along the seam before thrusting inside, sampling the hot heat within. But I shook myself. How fucked-up was that? I was twenty years her senior, and it was so damn wrong.

  Daisy’s shake of her head was silent, her eyes nervous.

  “No, the food’s good,” she said softly, looking down at her folded hands. “How was work today?” she asked.

  I kept eating.

  “Fine, I got out early and decided to come home instead of heading out to a client dinner. You can’t eat every meal out, it’ll kill you,” I said smoothly, forking up some mashed potatoes. It was rare that I indulged in any type of carbs because carbs aren’t great for maintaining muscle mass, but hey, every guy’s gotta have weaknesses, right? And the brunette smiled.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’ve been showing Mrs. Potter how to cook healthy, even those mashed potatoes you’re eating are better for you than you think,” she said with a playful smile. “They’re not made with butter, they’re made with extra virgin olive oil instead, it cuts out a lot of the saturated fat. Can you tell?”