“I hope I can do it.”

  “You can. I’ll have your back every step of the way. But, if you ever feel you don’t want to do the blog or the show or the book, you just say the word. We also need to figure out something else.” His hand runs down my back, and he shifts, turning me over to look up at him.

  “What else?” I ask, the excitement of a new life making me feel a little disconnected from everything.

  “This.” He reaches into the front pocket of his black slacks and brings out his hand holding something inside. I scramble up onto my knees as he turns and holds out his closed hand, fingers up. “Open it.”

  He’s smiling, and I reach out and pull back his index finger first, then his middle finger, and I see the sparkle.

  “You need to be my wife, Selma. I need to be your husband. I’ve never felt so right about anything in my life, and I’ve felt pretty right about a lot of things. Marry me, baby. Let me give you the world.” He opens his hand and reaches to hold up the ring, then grabs my left hand and pulls it between us.

  “Yes,” I squeak, nodding so hard my hair covers my eyes.

  The diamond is enormous, pink surrounded by smaller white diamonds, and I wonder where it came from because no jewelry store around here would have a ring like this.

  He slips it on my finger, and the weight is surprising.

  “Where did you get this? It’s so beautiful, if I dreamed of a ring, this would be it.”

  Ash shakes his head and pulls me into his lap, an arm around my shoulders, the other around my knees, curling me into a ball as I hold out my hand and admire the ring.

  “The day I left New York to come find you, I had some business to take care of from my parents’ estate. They weren’t rich, but my mother had collected a few valuables over the years. I was donating some of her jewelry to a local charity for an auction. She was a kind lady, one of her passions was working with homeless mothers, and one of the charities she worked with contacted me and asked for a jewelry donation for their auction. I knew she wouldn’t want me to just hold on to her jewelry for sentimental reasons, so I had dropped a couple rings off at a jeweler to be cleaned and boxed.”

  He kisses the side of my head and squeezes me tight against him, then continues.

  “Anyway, I went to get them so I could drop them at the charity center. When the young woman at the jewelry store came out with the box and opened it, I was shocked. There was some mix up, because the box wasn’t the rings I dropped off, it was this ring. When I pointed out the error, she quickly apologized and found my mother’s rings. But, as soon as I saw this ring, I knew it would be yours, so I bought it then and there, and I’ve been carrying it around ever since. Waiting to put it on your finger.”

  My heart beats so hard it feels like it’s coming out of my chest.

  “You bought this ring for me, before you even met me?”

  He nods as I look into those silver-gray eyes. “I knew, Selma. And when I know, I know. I trust my gut. It never leads me astray.”

  “Life is so weird, isn’t it? You come down to meet Anastasia Snow, food blogger, and YouTube starlet, and you end up engaged to Selma, the preacher’s daughter.”

  “I did, and now I’m going to marry both of them.” He kisses me softly, and it feels like home. When he pulls back, he’s smiling.

  “What?”

  “Are you ready for another surprise?”

  I sit up in his lap and clap. “Always.”

  “Okay, I want to show you something I bought. For you. For us. Get dressed, we’re actually going to leave the hotel.”

  S I X T E E N

  Ash

  EPILOGUE ONE - TWO Months later

  From my seat in my office at the new house, I watch her wander around on the front porch wearing a yellow apron and white sundress, and it has me harder than usual.

  I finish off an email to the coordinator at The Food Network about Selma’s—or Anastasia’s, to be more precise—upcoming feature and send it off copying Cameron as I have hired him as one of her staff because he keeps things straight and everyone around her straighter.

  She’s singing and spinning around. Her red hair is flying in the breeze as our new puppy, Oscar, nips at her ankles.

  That last day in the hotel, I brought her here and told her I’d bought the house for us. I let her know we could stay in it as much as she liked, or not at all for that matter.

  She cried. Then I cried because she was so happy.

  Her ties here to Thomas Valley are still strong, and we are renovating and decorating and also building a recording studio kitchen for Anastasia to do her video blogs and feature spots. Her best friend Libertine comes to visit a couple of times a week and has taken Selma to have her nails done for the first time as well as getting a facial and a few other girly services in a posh salon in Cleveland. All paid in full of course.

  I read through another couple emails, then hear the front door slam shut. My girl doesn’t know how to close a door quietly, but it works for me. I always know when she’s coming and going, which has become mandatory for me. I’m still obsessed with her, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

  There’s a soft knock on my office door, and I shake my head before I answer, “Come in, baby.” Her smiling face pops through, and she walks on her tiptoes to my desk, Oscar following close behind. “I told you, you don’t have to knock. Come in anytime.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t want to disturb you if you are doing something important.”

  I reach up for her hand and pull her behind the desk, leaning her ass on the edge as I roll my chair back a few inches.

  “Listen to me.” My voice is deep. “Nothing is more important than you. I hope, in time, you will understand what that means.”

  She scrunches her nose and nods. “I’m trying.”

  “Good girl. Now, what’s going on with you? I’m done with my work.” I look over and watch as Oscar flops on his belly, back legs out behind him, closing his eyes.

  “Well, the foreman has some questions about the kitchen. He wants our final appliance choices, and I just am not sure what to choose.” She holds the back of her neck with one hand.

  “Okay, we can go over that. Easy, baby. Why do you look so distressed?” I’ve never been happier than I have since I came to Ohio and taking care of Selma has brought me a joy I never knew before. Making her happy, taking away her worries, feeds me in so many ways I’ll never tire of being her guardian and protector.

  We got married two weeks after leaving the hotel, in a courthouse in South Carolina where you can marry the same day as you get your license flying Cameron, Libertine, Olivia, my assistant, and Deacon my housekeeper as attendants.

  After that, I flew them all to a private island resort off the coast, all expenses paid. I couldn’t bear to share Selma with everyone for a week after the wedding, so we flew off to the south of France and holed up in my villa there. Even without us, from all reports, our four friends managed to turn into their own little family and had more fun than my credit card had expected.

  I would have married her the day I got her from her father’s house if I could, but we had a hell of a time obtaining her birth certificate since her mother had her at home and they never bothered to register her birth.

  It pissed me off for a while because what I found out is all the children in the community are homeschooled as well. Which is all fine and well, but basically there was no record of Selma Hoffner anywhere. I thought it was hard finding Anastasia, but creating Selma turned out to be as much of a challenge as finding her alter-ego.

  I reach forward and rest my hands on her hips, pulling myself closer in my chair. My mind is already focused on laying her back, flipping up the fabric that covers that sweet cunt between her legs and having a snack.

  “I got a letter. From Papa.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, and?”

  Another shrug from her and her eyes well up, breaking my heart. “He just said he’s not ready to see me, but he’s praying for me. But he sent this.”

  I look up and see her force a smile as she holds up the necklace I gave her that day in the hotel.

  She looks so sweet and beautiful:;I restrain my groan. “Well, baby, at least he wrote you back. You’ve extended the olive branch, that’s all you can do. Give him time. It’s progress.”

  I reach out for the necklace and secure it back around her neck.

  “Yep. I just want him to be happy, but I want to be happy too.”

  “Exactly. you deserve your happiness, and he’s responsible for his.”

  She plays with the engagement ring and matching wedding band, twisting them around her finger.

  “You want some good news?” I squeeze her hips, and she nods.

  “Always.”

  “You have the feature on The Food Channel. We will shoot it here in your home kitchen. They are very excited.”

  “Yippee!” She claps. “Did you get the charity stuff set up?”

  “Yes, I did. The attorneys are overnighting the paperwork for us to look over, then we will file it, and all your profits will be paid directly to Anastasia’s Angels. I’ve copied Cameron on everything. He’s on it like a pitbull.”

  “Thank you. It just doesn’t seem right to keep any money. After all, you have more than we will spend in ten lifetimes.”

  “Yes, I have some other news as well.”

  “Okay. I love your surprises.”

  “I’m accepting the ‘give half away’ challenge. I’m working with my legal team to divest half of my net worth to charities as well. I will need your help to choose where the money will go. I want us to do that together.”

  “Oh! I’m so proud of you! We don’t need so much money, and it makes me feel better knowing we can do good deeds with what you have.”

  “I hope so. And...” I run my hands up her sides. “Cameron called. He’s coming to dinner tonight.”

  “Wow! It’s a good day after all and becoming a great day.”

  I hear the sound of a helicopter in the distance and watch as Selma rolls her eyes.

  The press have been hounding me since we got back to New York with Selma. I’m an unlikely celebrity, known for nothing but running my businesses and my wealth but seems the public can be voracious when it comes to a rich man and a young girl.

  At first, Selma didn’t do well with the scrutiny, but she’s tougher than she gives herself credit for, and she has since taken to the mindset of if they want a show, she will give them a show.

  I was called a cradle robber and plenty of other things, but I don’t care. I’ve never lost one minute of sleep over it, unless it upsets Selma. Which at this point, it doesn’t.

  “Shall we?” she asks, and I nod.

  “Whatever makes you happy.”

  “Good answer.”

  I follow her out the front door and onto the front lawn as the helicopter hovers, and I make a phone call.

  Selma spins in a circle and waves at the helicopter. She gives them peace signs and sticks her tongue out. She does the same thing every time. In her opinion, if she gives them a whole lotta crazy every time they stalk us, sooner or later it will be boring, and they will give up.

  Whatever makes her happy.

  I don’t particularly like them invading our privacy, but I have to admit, they are becoming less and less frequent, so maybe her angle is working.

  She turns and gives me that smile that melts my heart and heads back toward the house. I reach for her hand, and we go back inside together. My dick is rock hard, and it’s been two hours since my mouth was on her pussy, and that’s about my limit.

  Once inside, we hear the beeping of an alarm on both our phones, and we turn to smile at each other.

  Selma races to the master bedroom, yelling, “It’s that time!” And I follow close behind.

  She’s already in the bathroom when I get there, and a couple of minutes later she emerges with the plastic stick in her hand.

  “You didn’t look, did you?” I ask, squinting an eye at her.

  “No. I didn’t. Like every day, we will look together. It’s been thirty seconds, are you ready?”

  We do a pregnancy test every day. I’m so fucking ready for her to have a baby inside her; it’s become my new obsession.

  “I’m so ready.”

  She walks to me; I slip a hand behind her neck as we both look down. Then she twists her wrist, flipping the stick over, and I immediately feel the tears stinging my eyes.

  “Two lines.” I manage, choking on the words.

  Selma looks up at me, gripping my wrist with one hand.

  “You’re going to be a daddy.”

  “Fuck, yes.” I take the stick from her hand and set it on the chair next to our bed, undoing the apron and pulling it and the dress off her body.

  “You’ve knocked up the preacher’s daughter,” she teases as I march her to the bed and put her on her back, taking her legs in my hands and spreading them wide.

  I drop down and take a long slow lick of her already juicy cunt, listening to her moan as her hands come to the sides of my head. I lick and suck, then realize something is different.

  “Baby.” I kiss her inner thigh, and she looks down at me. “I didn’t think it was possible, but your pregnant pussy is even sweeter than it was before. I hope you like being pregnant because I think I’m going to keep you knocked up for the next twenty years or so.”

  “I love you so much,” she answers so sweetly it hurts my heart.

  “I love you more, my sweet Selma. My naughty Anastasia. I love you more.”

  S E V E N T E E N

  Selma

  EPILOGUE TWO - SEVEN Years Later

  I’m still drowsy when I look over at the clock and see it’s nearly nine am. I scramble out of bed and grab Ash’s dress shirt that is hanging on the bedpost and put it on, buttoning a couple of the buttons halfway down before racing down the stairs.

  I haven’t slept past seven am in as long as I can remember. With five kiddos running around, the oldest being only six, there is never a quiet moment around here.

  As I hit the bottom of the stairs, I hear laughter and voices from the backyard. As I walk through the kitchen, looking out the back windows, I see our three oldest: Lukas is six, and he has Molly and Avery on the tire swing, spinning them around while they squeal and laugh.

  I step out onto the back porch, the spring breeze and warm sun hitting my face. The scent of the enormous lilac bushes hits me. They line the back of the house I’d fallen in love with, that Ash bought the day after I left home with him. Oscar is laying on the porch, looking up at me with a lazy tail wag.

  I wave, and Lukas and the girls wave back as I reach down and rub Oscar behind the ears.

  “Where’s Daddy?” I yell.

  “He took the babies to bed,” Lukas shouts back.

  He’s a little man, taking after his father, so protective of his siblings. Don’t get me wrong, they drive us crazy with their bickering at times, but he’s older than his years.

  I’m three months pregnant now with number six, and we’ve not yet talked about stopping. I’d love to have ten, and Ash is content to keep going as long as I’m healthy and we are happy.

  And we are so happy.

  Before I turn to walk back into the house and check on the babies, Ash grabs me from behind and drags me in a hug back through the door.

  “Good morning,” he growls into my hair, one hand sliding up under his shirt to grip my milk-filled tits.

  “Good morning. Thank you for letting me sleep.”

  “Of course, you were sleeping so sweetly. I fed Jack and Lily, and they are down for a morning nap.”

  “Okay, but you know I’m overflowing now.”

  He squeezes my breast, and I feel the milk streaming out. I’ve been nursing since our first and never dreamed I would enjoy the process so much.

  Neither did Ash.

  “I know. I’ll help you with that, just need a little something else right now.”

  He holds my hand and pulls me through the living room, behind the bar that lines one wall before placing my hands flat on the counter in the back and flipping the tail of the long shirt up over my ass.

  “Bend over. I’m needy.” Ash grunts and I feel the head of his cock line up with my soaking opening right before he thrusts home in one motion, leaving me breathless.

  He’s always hornier when I’m pregnant, if that’s possible. But then again, so am I.

  “You’re so beautiful. You are truly my angel,” he whispers as he fucks into me from behind.

  He reaches under the shirt and grabs both my breasts, squeezing them and making me moan as he slides in and out, hitting that perfect spot inside of me.

  His cock still stretches me to my limits, and I long for the feeling of his cum dripping out of me.

  “God, Ash...” I groan, dropping my head to the cool counter as he drives the air from my lungs with each thrust. “You’re fucking me like a rabid dog.”

  “I’m an animal for you, baby. You know that. Quit teasing me, wearing my shirt around with nothing under it. I know that pussy is wet, I know your tits are full. What’s a dog to do when you bait me like that?”

  I giggle a little and give in to the growing tension his cock is creating. He’s milking my tits and fucking into me so hard I have to grip the edge of the counter, pushing my hips back into each thrust.

  This is a special spot for us. A place where we can have each other while the kids are out back or in the adjoining family room, and they can’t see us. After all these years, Ash still can’t keep his hands off of me, and I think I only enjoy our intimate life more as time goes on.

  “God, baby, you’re so fucking warm and tight. Milking my cock.”

  “Of course, I am. It’s all for you. I want it all inside me.”

  I crave his cum. In my mouth, on my tits, my body, inside me, anywhere really. I never understood what sex could really mean before. My upbringing only taught me the shame of it all, when in fact, it is the beauty that only we share with each other.