Dropping a kiss on my lips, he lingers until I sigh and start feeling better. “Our attorney will give them a call and make sure they leave us alone.”
“We have a lawyer?” I’ve never even spoken to one before.
“We do. I had a chat with those guys this morning. Had I known you were on their list, I’d have warned you.” He brushes my hair back from my face and presses his lips to my forehead, the reassurance of his love making everything better.
“When can we get married?” My question shocks him. I seem to do that from time to time. “Because I think the courthouse is still open.”
“Right now? You don’t want all the bells and whistles? Big fancy affair?” My head shakes vigorously. “Sugar, you can have anything you want.”
“I just want my Daddy.” Sighing into a kiss as I make love to his mouth this time, he groans and agrees.
And that’s how we wound up married in a quick ceremony, with Karma as our witness and a honeymoon in Tallahassee, celebrating with my mom before flying to Las Vegas so I could meet Vito’s brother and his wife.
Growing up, I never had the picture-perfect family, but I had my mom, and even with all her faults, I never felt unloved or unwanted. Now, Vito and I are determined to give our children everything we never had and so much more.
Epilogue 1
VITO
Eight Years Later.
“Come on, Dad, you’re too slow,” my seven-year-old son growls as he carries the overflowing food tray to our room to surprise his mom for Mother’s Day. He made her breakfast all by himself.
“Patience, boy.”
Lord, one boy, two girls, and he’s the one to test my patience most. It’s my own fault. I’ve spent his life teaching him that his mother is the most important woman in his life, and he’s to treat her like a queen always. She’s his favorite person in the world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Opening the door for him, he quietly enters as his sisters follow with a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag. Each of them is excited about what they’ve picked out for her. The girls are spitting images of my wife with their strawberry-blonde curls, cute button noses, and those ice-blue eyes. In comparison, our son mimics me in his dark hair, sharp jawline, and identical chocolate-brown eyes.
“Momma.” Our youngest climbs on the bed with help from me while whisper-calling her name.
“Mmm, do I hear my babies?” Stella opens her eyes. I already knew she was awake and faking it for the kids.
“Happy Mother’s Day!” they cheer together.
I take the breakfast from our son so he can climb up to give her a hug. The bed is a mess of flower petals, but I don’t care, and I know Stella won’t either.
“Thank you, darlings. What a beautiful way to wake up.” Sitting up, she leans against the headboard and accepts her flowers, then her gift bag, pulling out a heart-shaped locket with a picture of the kids in it. I nearly panic when tears spring to her eyes. “This is amazing.” Kissing each of the kids on the head, she looks to me for one, and I’d never deny her.
“Love you, sugar.” Murmuring against her lips, I know exactly what she’s about to do.
“Love you more, Daddy. You’ll need to update this in about seven months, though.” Stunned, I drop to my knees and stare at her in awe as she smiles big. “You’re getting a vasectomy next week, too.”
Maybe I was wrong and can’t predict everything she says.
“Whatever you want.” It’ll be in fate's hands after that because there’s no way I’ll ever wear a condom when I’m inside her body, and hey, sometimes these things fail.
Epilogue 2
STELLA
Three Years Later.
“I never should have listened to you.” Grunting through the pain, I’d like to throttle my husband in the moment.
“I love you,” he smiles while brushing my sweaty hair off my face and rubbing a cool cloth along the back of my neck.
“Shut up!” I pant and drop back onto the bed, trying to breathe with my eyes closed when another contraction hits hard. Screaming through it, I push, and the pressure builds until it feels like I’ll explode before blessed relief and a tiny wail.
