EPILOGUE
Jude
Iwoke upeven earlier than I had planned to on Christmas morning.
Today’s the day. The day I’d been planning for months. It was a lot of firsts all rolled together. My first Christmas with Marly. Her first Christmas without her father. Her first time meeting my parents. Her first trip to Montana.
I slid out of bed as quietly as possible, so as not to wake her and crept across my childhood bedroom to the bag which housed seven small, wrapped presents—all for Marly. It was only six a.m. My sister was spending the morning with her in-laws and she and the rugrats wouldn’t be here until lunch.
Despite my light footstep, Marly stirred, rolling onto her left side, blinking her eyes open and yawning. “Jude? What time is it?”
I dropped the bag near the door and knelt beside the bed, pressing my lips gently to her smooth, makeup-free forehead. “Early. Too early. Go back to sleep.”
“I’ll get up if you’re getting up.”
My cock stirred, seeing the way she lifted her slender arms over head, her small perky breasts stretching with the movement, her perfect rosebud nipples hard and pushing against the thin cotton of her shirt. “Stay,” I said, smoothing my palm over her hair. Then I grabbed two quarters from the nightstand and placed them on her closed eyes. “Stay. Go back to sleep. And I expect those quarters to still be there when I come back up.”
Her mouth tilted into a smirk. “Or else what?”
I flicked her nipple—hard enough to cause her to gasp. To cause the small of her back to arch off the mattress. “Try me and find out.” I whispered the threat, my voice playful and my body wanting to forget all about my plan for today and instead sink my cock deep inside of her.
“I’m excited about our gift to your mom,” she said, out of the blue.
“Me too. She’s never going to see it coming.” I leaned down, kissing Marly deeply. “Now, go back to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, her voice thick with grogginess.
I waited there another few moments before gathering the gifts and tip-toeing my way downstairs. Even though I was thirty years old, there was something about being back in my parent’s house that made me feel like I was eight again. As though I wasn’t supposed to be awake at this hour, sneaking around the house like a cat-burglar.
“Morning,” my mom said, nearly giving me a heart attack.
“Holy shit.” I clutched my chest, feeling each heavy thudding heartbeat slam into my palm from behind my breastbone. “Mom, what are you doing awake so early?”
My grip on the bag of gifts tightened.
Mom shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m usually up at six every morning. Especially with guests visiting. I like to have the coffee brewed and breakfast made in case someone wakes up.”
I shook my head, laughing. “You really are supermom, you know that?”
“If we’re comparing me to superheroes, I’d rather be Wonder Woman. Without that stupid leotard, though.”
“You can be whatever the hell superhero you prefer, mom.”
My mom stood up from the kitchen table and shuffled over to the French Press, pouring me a mug of rich, black coffee and sliding it across the kitchen island. “This girl’s the real thing, isn’t she?” she asked.
“Yeah, mom. She is.”
She held my gaze for a long moment—her eyes a slightly darker shade of green than mine. “Good. I like this one.”
I smiled. Most people assumed I inherited most of my attributes from my dad—they couldn’t be more wrong. My mom and I were so similar that it was sometimes painful. She needed the control, the power. She ran this family as well as the State of Montana.
“I love her,” I admitted. “I love her more than I ever thought I was capable of.”
“Oh, sweet boy.” Mom brushed her palm to my jaw. “Just you wait until you have kids. You don’t even know what love is yet.”
I smiled, imagining Marly pregnant with our child.
“She’s good for you,” Mom said. “I can tell.” Then she added after a pause, “We just need to get her to stop with all that yes ma’am and yes, sir crap. What is this, the military?”
