Free Father With the Naughty Bride by Valerie J Aurora Page A

I was losing two kids. Kind of.
    I stepped in my house, threw my keys on the table by the door and thumbed through the mail from the day that the kids brought in. I called out “hello” and heard from my sixteen-year-old daughter, Monica, who was in the kitchen.
    “Hi Dad,” Monica said with a smile as she looked up from her math textbook. “How was the dinner?”
    “It was good,” I said, kissing my daughter on the forehead. “You know Angela is a very sweet girl, and I think they’ll be very happy together. They seemed to be very much in love.”
    “I’m happy for Eric,” she said. “He’s too much of a pinhead brother to deserve Angela, but I guess if he can talk her into marrying him, then I guess there’s hope for all of us, eh?” She smiled.
    “Could you call him a ‘pinhead’ in a more sisterly loving way?” I teased. Monica just rolled her eyes. “Speaking of pinheads, where’s your little brother?”
    “Mark’s at the neighbor’s house; he’s having a sleepover there, remember?” Monica said.
    “Oh, right, thanks, I forgot,” I said. “Is there a number for me to call in case?” Monica nodded and pointed toward the refrigerator. I walked over and saw the cell phone number of our neighbor, Marcia, another single parent who has a son Mark’s age. I smiled; I remember a very nice date or two with her in recent weeks. Maybe I should call her for old times’ sake , I thought.
    “Great, thanks,” I said. “I’m going upstairs to wind down, OK sweetheart?” I said to Monica. “Anything you need from me before I go up?”
    “Nope,” Monica said. “I’ll be done here in a few minutes and I’ll get ready for bed.”
    “OK, sweetie,” I said, kissing her on the forehead ag ain as I walked to the fridge. Remember to turn the kitchen light off … and feed the cat, please.”
    “OK,” she said, exasperated. “But isn’t he fat enough already?”
    “He’s fat and sassy because he’s happy to be around your loving, sweet attitude,” I said, teasingly.
    “Yeah, yeah,” she said.
    I reached in the fridge and grabbed a can of soda, cracked in open and took a small sip before walking upstairs. I got to the top of the stairs and walked into my bedroom. I don’t usually glance around to see if things were in place, but this time I was compelled. I look around and I saw my pillows were a little askew from when I made the bed earlier in the day, and there was some black lace panties hanging on the headboard. I hadn’t had a woman in my bed in several weeks. I walked over to the headboard and took the panties off and inspected them. Just then, I noticed a condom wrapper on the floor next to my bed.
    My first thought was Monica – though I didn’t know she had a boyfriend, and I was pretty damn sure she shouldn’t bring a guy here to have sex in my bedroom.
    “Mon-i-ca!” I called downstairs. “What happened up …?”
    “Eric and Angela,” she called up. “I know because I heard them. Every move.”
    I walked down the stairs a few feet. “They had sex in my bed before they met me for dinner?” I asked. Monica affirmed.
    “It wasn’t just once, either,” she said. “It was twice. At least.”
    I climbed back up the stairs with a begrudged heavy-footedness. But, I couldn’t help myself, so I smelled the panties . The smell of sex burned my nose hairs. I went back to the bedroom and decided I had to check the bed, so I pulled the bed sheets back and I saw a wet stain and Eric’s boxer shorts. Aarrggghhhhhh , I thought. And that was all I could think.
    I threw the boxer shorts out of the room and replaced the bed sheets, muttering to myself that I just changed the sheets, and now I have to change them again and wash two sets of sheets. I shook my head. This is why you have an apartment, Eric, I thought. If you still lived here you would be sooo grounded.
    I had been reading on my bed for a couple hours when my cell phone gave me an alert that I had received a text