“I have some news you’re not going to be able to believe,” I tell them, deciding that the best way is to just come straight out with it.
“Oh really?” my mom asks, with that hint of curiosity and alarm in her voice that only my mother can mix together in one tone so well.
“Yes,” I tell her, and then I take Isaac’s ring out of my pocket. “Surprise.”
“What in the…?” my dad starts to say, but my mom rushes over and holds up my hand.
“Is that three carrots?” she asks me, astonished.
I laugh.
“I don’t even know,” I tell her. “But isn’t it beautiful?”
“It sure is. Where did you get it?”
“I think the better question is where did you get it from?” Dad asks. “Or rather, who gave it to you? Why have we never even heard of him before?”
His voice is stern so I look at my mom for reassurance. She’s just giving me a blank look, as if I have a lot of explaining to do. And I guess I do.
“I met a guy named Isaac when I was out with Stacy,” I tell them, which is the truth. “And, we got involved in a little whirlwind romance.”
“Well I’d say,” my dad says. “This explains why we never see you around here anymore.”
“I know you probably think I’m crazy,” I tell them, “but we’re in love. For real. And we’re getting married.”
“Well, that much is obvious,” my mom says, fanning herself at the sight of my ring all over again. “So why haven’t you told us?”
“He’s… older than me, for one,” I say. “And he’s… filthy stinking rich.”
“You don’t say,” my mom says, pointing to the diamond as if she still can’t get over it.
“I didn’t want you to think I was just…”
“Using him for his money?” my mom asks.
“Yeah, like I wanted to be sure this was real love. And I didn’t want you to talk me out of it. So we went ahead and planned a wedding date.”
“Veronica…” My dad starts, in a warning voice.
But my mom cuts him off.
“I think it’s rather romantic,” she says. “Your dad and I only dated for six months before we got married. But that’s because I was…”
She trails off.
“Did he knock you up?” my dad demands, raising his voice. “I’ll kill him if he…”
“No,” I tell them, quickly, “it’s nothing like that. We just don’t see the point in waiting. And also…”
“Woo hoo,” says my mom, interrupting me and hugging me as if she’d just won the lottery. “Because you don’t know how hard it is to start off a marriage with a baby on the way. No offense.”
I smile at her. If she knew how my fake- turned- real engagement had started off, she’d realize she has nothing on me.
“I’m just glad you’re not pregnant,” my dad says. “Do what you want, I suppose. You’re a grown adult. We did our part and now it’s up to you from here on out, kid.”
I laugh. I suppose I should have started out by making them think I was pregnant, so that they’d be this relieved and happy a lot earlier on in the conversation.
“Sorry,” Mom says. “The news of your non-pregnancy overshadowed something you were trying to say to me.”
“Oh yeah,” I tell her. “One reason we’re getting married so soon is that Isaac’s father is… not well.”
“I’m sorry,” Mom says, grabbing my hand in condolence. “I know too well how hard that can be.”
“Yeah, I guess we kind of bonded through that… common experience,” I tell her, but then I hurry to differentiate it. “But Isaac’s dad’s situation is… not good, whereas yours is good now. You’re going to be just fine, Mom. I know it.”
She smiles at me and I can tell she wants to believe it, that she’s close to believing it. She just doesn’t want to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed like last time. So I’d better tell her the rest of it.
“Mom, the good news is, that he’s offered…” I gulp, because this part isn’t exactly true, but close enough, “…to pay for your cancer treatments. Anything you want, we can take care of it.”
“Oh honey,” my mom says, throwing her arms around me. “That’s so nice of you. But you don’t have to. I don’t want to be a burden on you.”
“You’re not at all,” I tell her. “I want this for you.”
It’s the whole reason I did this, I want to tell her. But I ended up so glad I did it for me, rather than just for you.
“Okay,” Mom says, “Well, if he has the money, I guess why not.”
“Why not indeed?” I ask, so happy that things seem to be working out.
The first treatment has gone much better than the specialists could have even hoped, and they’re only supposed to get better from here on out, so long as there’s money to keep doing them. And now, there is.
“So, when do we get to meet him?” Mom asks.
“Well,” I say, grinning that the most surprising news of all is yet to be revealed. “Our wedding is this weekend.”
Epilogue
Veronica
Canon in D plays as my mom and dad walk me down the aisle in the elaborately decorated courtyard of the Ritz Carlton. I’m glad that my actual parents get to do the honors, rather than whatever fake couple Isaac was planning on hiring to play my mom and dad at our pretend wedding.
I never thought this would be my life, but I’m loving every minute of it. I especially love seeing Isaac’s face as I sashay down the aisle towards him. He looks as if he’s absolutely in awe of my wedding dress, and completely in love with me.
I can’t help but catch Stacy’s grin out of the corner of my eye. As my real maid of honor, she’s standing up there waiting for me, just like she would be if she was my fake maid of honor, but it’s even better now that it’s actually happening.
She and I had joked that Madame needed to come teach me the right way to walk down the aisle. But now that I’m staring at Isaac, I realize any way is right, as long as I make it up to the alter to marry my groom.
I can’t believe I’m actually marrying a multi billionaire. And not just any multibillionaire at that. But one who is handsome, strong and absolutely in love with me.
His dad is in the audience, with Cora at his side. His mom is sitting at the other end of the row. They were actually cordial to each other at the rehearsal dinner, which Isaac says is a small miracle. Dan and Ed are standing beside Isaac as his best men, and they never let him forget that they’re the reason he and I are together. If they hadn’t encouraged him to go the Exchange Club that night— where money can buy you anything, even a fake fiancée— he’d never be having this very real wedding.
The sun begins to set on the ocean behind us as the very real officiant starts the ceremony. When it comes time to say our vows, I look Isaac in the eyes and say the ones I wrote myself.
“I never thought I would get married so soon, and I know you never thought you’d get married at all,” I tell him, while our guests laugh. “But I’m very thankful for each and every circumstance that brought us here today.”
He nods at me, and I can tell he’s trying to choke back tears.
“I promise to be your wife and your faithful companion until my dying day,” I tell him. “I’ll help you with your business.”
At this, we both look at his father, who gives us the thumbs up sign. He’s had a good week and I think that now that things are settled with Charles and with Isaac, however long he has left will be well spent.
I look back at Isaac.
“I’ll help you in life, with whatever you need. And I’ll always be the most caring, compassionate, most down to earth, totally real bride that you married today.”
“And with that,” the officiant says, as everyone starts to clap. “I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your down to earth, totally real bride.”
And he does. Now and for the rest of our lives.
Isaac
I’m not th
e type to get nervous, but right now, I’m fucking nervous. I bought a fake fiancé, but it’s my real wedding day.
As soon as I see Veronica walking down the aisle, though, I know I’ve made the right choice. Everything is going to be okay because she and I are together.
She looks beautiful in a white lace gown with a long veil over her head. She went for the traditional look, as a reminder that this thing is for real. As if I needed any more reminders.
Dan elbows me and whispers to me for what has to be thousandth time, “I told you the Exchange Club had everything you needed.”
I grin and hiss at him through my teeth, “Dude, shut up. I’m getting married over here.”
As soon as Veronica’s in front of me, I want to take her in my arms and kiss her. But I remember I can’t do that until we’re officially married. As the officiant speaks, I realize it’s almost time to say my vows.
Shit.
I hope I can remember them.
When the time comes, I stare at her, momentarily frozen. But then she smiles at me, and I open my mouth to let the words flow out.
“I know we had a fast and unorthodox beginning,” I tell her, and she smiles as if to say, you’re telling me. “But I don’t regret a second of it. I love our past— as short as it might be—”
At this, we both pause to laugh.
“I love our present, and I’m looking forward to a long future together. I’ll protect you, love you, cherish you. I’ll be everything you ever wanted a husband to be, and everything I never even knew I could be—and that everyone else probably doubted I’d ever even want to be.”
Here, I look at my dad, and everyone laughs.
When we’re pronounced husband and wife, I can’t believe I have a real bride. A real marriage. A real life unlike any I’ve ever known before.
***
We party late into the night, and our reception is epic. Dan and Stacy appear to be getting it on, and they’re not even two of the most sloshed wedding guests.
I’m tipsy, but not too drunk to be turned on by my new wife. As soon as we get to our hotel room, I carry her over the threshold of the door and she laughs.
“I love you, husband,” she says, as I take off her beautiful wedding dress, being careful not to tear it.
“I love you, too.”
I’ve waited for this night ever since I first took her virginity— even if I didn’t consciously know it. Every time I reached for a condom, I would wish I could fuck her for real – raw, bare, without protection. And now I can.
I take her to the bed and use my tie to bind her wrists to the bed.
“We’re going to react the time I took your virginity,” I tell her. “But this time, I’m going to take all of you. Nothing is going to stand between us. Because we’re husband and wife now.”
“What if I get pregnant?” she asks, turning around to look at me.
“What if?” I ask her, spreading her legs apart.
I take her ass cheeks in my hand and spread her ass and pussy open wide.
“Here’s my pussy that I took for the very first time,” I tell her, slapping her ass with one hand while I stick my finger inside her with the other.
“Oh, my God. Isaac.”
I reach up and play with one of her nipples while kissing her shoulders and her back. I take off my pants and feel my cock hard and strong up against her ass.
This is it. I can take her without protection. She’s my wife. It’s real.
I slip my cock inside her and she whimpers.
“That’s a good girl,” I whisper up close to her ear. “Let your husband fuck you without a condom on.”
“Yes sir,” she says, as I watch my cock slide deep into her eager, wet pussy.
I push it in and pull it out, staring at it as her juices gather on it, making it slippery. I hold one hand on her ass and the other on her nipple as I thrust it in and out of her.
“That’s a good little slutty wife,” I tell her. “Let your husband do what he wants.”
“I’m coming,” she moans, as I reach around and slap her pussy with one of my hands while I twist her nipple with my other hand.
“That’s it,” I tell her. “Come for your husband.”
I grab hold of her ass and bear down into her, pushing and thrusting, being rough with her because I can. I can do anything I want to her, now and always.
As my cock begins to throb, she leans her head back against my chest and looks up into my eyes.
“I’m going to come in your pussy,” I tell her, as I feel the orgasm starting. “I’m going to shoot my load into you.”
“Oh, my God,” she says, “I’m going to come again too.”
I feel myself pulse inside her as my cum shoots into her.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I call out, feeling better than I ever felt before, when the condom blocked the full sensation. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.”
We moan together and then fall onto the bed, both of us exhausted after a full wedding day and the best sex of our lives.
“That was amazing,” she says, as I curl my arm around the back of her neck. “I want to do that every night.”
“Me too,” I tell her, looking deep into her green eyes. “And now we can. Because you’re my very real wife.”
“And what if you put a very real baby inside me?” she asks, smiling that devilish, flirtatious grin I love so much.
“Then that would just be the icing on top of our very real wedding cake.”
THE END.
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Hot Single Daddy: A Second Chance, First Time Romance
Chapter 1 – Emily
I tap my foot and stare at the clock on the wall of my classroom, which reads 5:03 pm. I’m late for work. Again. I know that by the time I change and head from campus to the hotel, I’ll be so late I just might get fired this time.
It’s all Stacy Peterson’s fault. If I have to hear one more annoying question coming out of her overly lipsticked mouth, I think I’m going to snap.
“I’m just confused about the part of the project where we talk about the different parts of Albuquerque,” she says.
That’s it, I think, and then I remind myself to take a deep breath.
The thing that I really want to do— which is to rip out Stacy’s highlighted hair, strand by strand— might feel good in the moment, but it won’t get me out of here any faster. I try to think fast: how can I to get her to shut up?
“Emily, the locale differentiation portion was your idea,” says Professor James. “And a great one at that. Why don’t you explain it to Stacy?”
Oh, great.
While I’m pleased that Professor James— who is not only the teacher of this class but also the head of the entire Social Work Master’s Program— has noticed my ambition, and while I want this project to be a success, I really don’t have time to explain such obvious matters to Stacy— who will undoubtedly be asking me the same question tomorrow anyway.
She is definitely the weakest link in our group, and the main reason we had to stay after class and ask for extra help from Professor James. When I agreed to do it, I’d had no idea we would be here for two more hours. I’d obviously underestimated her stupidity.
It’s always the rich girls who are clueless. Somehow a guy just like Stacy swindled my own dad out of his life savings in some kind of ponzi scheme. He hadn’t had a lot of money but what he had is gone now. And that’s why I think rich people are shameless: they look for any chance to make more money, even by taking advantage of poor people like my dad.
“Our program should identify different areas of town and incorporate plans for each of them, so as to show where the are
as of need are greatest,” I explain, although the dumbfounded expression on Stacy’s face remains the same. “The needs of girls in the South Valley, for instance, will be quite different from those of girls in the Northeast Heights.”
“Because…?” prods Stacy, her face a blank look.
Oh, my God. I want to explode.
I want to tell her, “Because girls from the South Valley— like me— have poor parents and poor school districts and underfunded resources, whereas girls from the Northeast Heights— like you— have rich parents and rich school districts and very well- funded resources.”
But I don’t. There are some things that someone like Stacy will never understand— not just because she’s an airhead but also because she has no clue. She’s never had to understand them. And I have no idea why she’s enrolled in this class or why she wants a Social Work degree. I have an instant distrust of rich people and I almost wonder if she’s here to spy on us poor people, or work against our efforts.
Figuring out Stacy Peterson is not my problem right now, I remind myself. Making it to work as soon as possible is. So, I throw out an idea.
“Let’s get together to discuss this further, and I can answer your questions one on one,” I tell her.
I instantly regret my offer, but at least it works.
“Sure,” says Stacy. “Professor James, will you be able to meet with us too?”
So that explains it, I think.
Perhaps the entire reason Stacy wanted to have this after- class meeting was to get up close and personal with the professor. Maybe that’s the sole reason she enrolled in his class. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was also the main or only reason she’s pursuing a Social Work degree.
“Of course,” Professor James says, and I swear he blushes a little. “Just let me know when works for both of you. And anyone else here who would like to come,” he adds, looking around at the rest of the group members.
But I have no time to compare schedules. I’m already tossing my laptop into my bag and starting towards the door in a hurry.
If I lose my job, I won’t be able to attend school here, and school’s my life. At twenty- four years old, I have no husband, no kids— not even a boyfriend. I hate to admit it even to myself, but I’ve never even had sex.
SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance Page 68
