Hearts On Campus: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance by Flora Ferrari (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

“I’m gonna be a daddy and a husband?” he asks, finally speechless for the first time since I’ve known him.

Me, I just wanna cry I’m so happy. I was going to tell him, god I’ve been trying to tell him for weeks but it was just never the right moment.

“Are you mad at me?” I ask, worried I’ll spoil the wedding.

“People ready now,” the wedding planner’s voice chimes in again from behind the door. The doorknob rattling as he tries to get in.

“Not now,” Wes growls before he smiles at me, getting down on his knees and pressing his face to my belly, listening and feeling the life inside me we’ve made together.

“What D’you mean not now?” the voice hisses, knocking on the door with a nervous tap.

The soft sound of the organ starts, my wedding march.

“Oh baby, we’re gonna have a baby,” Wes says, almost unable to control himself, he’s even shaking.

“If we don’t get out there, we’ll both be single parents,” I remind him, knowing how much all of this means to Wes, and to me.

“Plus, I’m about to pop out of this dress,” I realize too.

“Oh, you won’t be wearing it too much longer,” he promises me, hurrying to get on his feet as I brush him off and he kisses me deeply before going out to wait by the altar.

“I love you, Mrs. Heart,” he whispers tenderly, his hand stroking my belly again. “And you too, little baby Heart,” he adds.

“And we love you, Mr. Heart,” I tell him, blowing him a kiss before he goes on ahead of me.

“Well, here goes little one,” I tell our baby.

“We’re gonna get married and make sure you have a mommy and a daddy waiting for you when you come out into the world. And after today, no more tight dresses, I promise.”

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

THREE YEARS LATER

Wesley

It’s a little less highbrow than her first book launch. That was a test of endurance.

Surrounded by a bunch of shirts, all asking me what I thought about Katelyn’s theory on the ‘ethics of quantum computes future in AI development’ and the influence of ‘self-programming algorithms in an existing and ever expanding webspace.’

Jamie was just a baby then, and Jane wasn’t even around yet so it was easy to get out of discussing stuff I have no idea about with anyone.

I mean, she never even talks about it with me because she knows it’s a waste of breath.

On cue, Jamie would holler or fill her diaper and I could excuse myself, with nobody wanting to hold up a six foot three man who smelled like fresh poop.

Jamie’s older now, but still likes her daddy to sit her on his knee while we wait for mommy to give her speech and sign some of her books.

Jane’s in her carrier, sleeping blissfully through the whole thing as usual.

Today is another book launch, but these titles are a little different and seem to be doing a little better, according to Petra, her publishing agent.

By the length of the line around the block, I’d say she’s doing alright by her readers. Giving them what they want.

Making sure I don’t miss out, I always have her sign the first print of the first edition.

I’m her biggest fan.

I found her first draft beside the bed one morning and thumbed through it.

It sounded a little familiar and made me hot as hell for her. By the time she came back to the bedroom after putting Jamie to sleep, I made her show me just what she had in mind during every bedroom scene.

I had her act out every position, scenario, and sentence as I filled her with the only thing I know that makes her scream louder than Jamie.

I suggested she submit her work for publication. Of course with different character names. I didn’t want people knowing it was my wife they were reading about.

“All names are to be changed, to protect the innocent,” those were my only terms.

She thought I was cracked, wanted to publish computer science textbooks instead.

After it cost us a few thousand and she’d sold all of three textbooks in her first year, the manuscripts started coming thick and fast once she clinched her first book deal with the story of how we met ‘Hearts on Campus’.

I can’t remember how many editions there have been so far. They sell out as fast as they’re printed.

Today is another day away from her real work as she calls it, taking more time out for her writing over computer science. Something I know she juggles because she loves both so much.

And her family, of course. We don’t miss out on anything just because mommy’s busy. No sir.

We all do what we can, and I help out around the house, looking after Jamie and cooking, cleaning up when mommy has to work.

“She’s coming, just a minute, baby girl,” I coo into Jamie’s ear. She’s starting to fidget, getting antsy because this is taking too long and the people clapping are probably hurting her ears.

“And so without any further introduction… Katelyn Webster, author of ‘Hearts on Campus’.”

I still get a kick out of watching her, before, during, and after these things.

She gets so nervous beforehand, got sick once and I thought we were having another baby but it was just nerves.

When she comes out, it’s all professional, cool, and calm like she’s got this in the bag because she does. She totally owns it every time.

And afterward, I take us out to dinner and put Jamie and Jane to bed once we’re home again, we sit up in bed late and talk about how crazy the whole thing is.

I tell her how crazy I think she is for sticking with the whole science thing, and she explains how much she loves both.

“And I love you, Wes,” she reminds me, kissing me tenderly as my own ears still ring from all the applause, my eyes stinging a bit but not from all the flash photography.

Stinging as I try not to shed