Page 25 of Ash's Angel

“I don’t think Becca’s old enough to watch them yet, but we can watch them after she’s gone to bed,” he replies.

“Then let’s do that,” I state.

After the movie is over and the credits are rolling, I help Becca to the bathroom, then head into ours once she’s gone potty then washed her hands. Laughter spills from my lips when I see what Ash is wearing while sprawled out like a starfish on the bed.

“What on earth?” I ask through my continuous giggles while I close and lock our door. We’ll unlock it eventually, of course, but I refuse to traumatize our girl with our after-hours activities.

He’s in a provocative pose, wearing a pair of boxer briefs with a sprig of mistletoe right over his dick. The writing says, ‘kiss me here’ and since I believe in obeying signs like that, I find myself crawling up the mattress until I’m crouched between his thighs.

“I like these,” I murmur, my finger reaching out to stroke along his burgeoning dick.

“Well, Santa said you’ve been averygood girl this year, so he wanted to leave you with one more gift,” Ash teases as he pulls me down so he can kiss me.

“He did, did he?” I ask, already breathless as my heart rate speeds up.

“Yeah, he did,” Ash replies. “Now, let me get you unwrapped so you can better appreciate your gift.”

The end… for now

EPILOGUE

Prophet

While I’m thrilled for my brother and his ol’ lady getting hitched today, I could’ve done without Marnie’s color scheme. Wearing a deep pink shirt is definitely not in my wheelhouse, but when Becca walks up to me and says, “You look so handsome, Prophet,” I decide I’ll live with it.

“Thank you, Becca,” I reply. “You look like a fairy princess,” I tell her, taking in the poofy gown she’s wearing.

It doesn’t escape my notice that her braids have the same color ribbon as my shirt in them, nor do I miss the bow on the back of her dress that’s almost as big as her. “Mama Marnie says because it’s Valentine’s Day, we have to wear pink!” she exclaims.

Personally, I’d have gone with red myself, but nobody asked me for my opinion. Then again, ever since last year when Rosa and I broke up the way we did, I’ve been a bit… surly. Except where this little girl is concerned, that is. There’s something about her that reminds me of the countless foster kids my grandmotherhelped raise. Most of them went on to have extremely successful lives thanks to Granny’s love, including me. She raised me and my younger brother when our parents died, and I developed my love for all things artistic, as well as working out because of her.

I know I’m a bit of an anomaly to my brothers. I’m a licensed tattoo artist, but I used to be an MMA—mixed martial arts—champion. While I’ve been toying with opening up another shop, my position as the club’s Enforcer has me wondering if I’d have the time necessary to devote to slinging ink again. It’s something to talk about in church and get my brothers’ opinions, I guess, and I make a mental note to add it to the next agenda.

“Well, I think you’re beautiful in pink. Me, not so much because I’m a guy,” I reply.

I hear a voice clearing and turn, startled to find a curvy blonde standing there, a baby in her arms. I don’t recognize her at all, but I’m shocked into silence when she asks, “Are you… are you Eli Benson?”

“I am,” I reluctantly reply. “Who are you?”

“Phoebe Carter,” she says. “Here, she’s yours,” she states as she thrusts the baby into my hands. “I can’t… no, that’s not right, Iwon’tcontinue to keep you in the dark like Rosa wanted. Since she’s not here anymore, I don’t have to. Everything you need to know is in the papers that are tucked in the diaper bag. I’m sorry I interrupted your day since it looks like you’re about to have a party or something.”

With that, she turns and rushes out the door, leaving me with so many fucking questions and absolutely no answers.

What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?