My fucking girl. The pride in my heart was almost too much. I squeezed Bee and kissed the top of her head.

"I fucking love you, Bee."

"I fucking love you, too, Jake.”

TWO

"Is now a bad time to tell you we should've used a condom?"

"Why? You got the clap?" I teased. Bee's little giggle lit up my dark soul.

"No, but I'm not on anything," She said. Oddly enough, this time around the thought never occurred to me to use protection. This was my woman. I had no plans of ever wrapping it up again. We needed to be as close as possible, skin to skin, and whatever happens, happens. Georgia was by far the greatest gift in the world. An amazing little girl that a bastard like me didn't deserve. I wouldn't mind another just like her, especially since this time I would be able to see Bee with a big baby belly, her tits soft and swollen.

I was getting hard again.

"I figure I would get you barefoot and pregnant as soon as possible anyway. You wouldn't understand. It's a man thing," I joked.

"Oh yeah? So that's your new goal? To knock me up, again?" she asked.

"No, if that happens, it happens. That would be great, but my new goal is actually something else." My stomach had fucking butterflies in it as I prepared to say what I'd wanted to say for so fucking long.

I'm such a motherfucking pussy.

"Oh yeah?" Bee yawned, stretching her arm out over my chest. "What's that?"

I never expected to feel the way I felt about Bee. I never expected to love anyone so completely. She made me feel like at least a part of me was capable of some sort of normal, and since I was able to experience such great love, maybe I wasn't such a monster after all.

Maybe.

Probably not.

"Marry me," I whispered.

Bee froze. I didn't know if she had faded into a sudden deep sleep or was holding her breath. She had about one more second to answer before I shook her awake and demanded a response. It seemed like an eternity before she lifted her head from my chest. The most amazing pair of blue eyes, the eyes I fell in love with four years ago, gazed up at me like I'd hung the fucking moon.

"Okay," she said simply. A tear rolled down her cheek. Her perfect pink lips formed a huge smile meant only for me.

I loved the shit out of this girl.

I reached down and lifted her up on top of me until we were eye to eye. "Okay," I said, pushing her hair behind her ear, then covering her mouth with my own in a deep all encompassing kiss.

The need to be inside her again took hold, my cock harder than the first time around. Rolling over on top of her, she eagerly spread her legs for me. I entered her easily and completely, sheathing myself to the hilt. She took all of me, but gave me even more.

She always had.

I planned on making up for lost time all night.

And then forever.

THREE

One year later...

Reggie and I were at the shop working on our new pet project, restoring an old Shelby Mustang that some kid had blasphemously turned into a fucking donk. A hydraulic system was hooked to the suspension so the car would hop up and down on the tires, the body was painted a matte black from a fucking spray can, and when Reggie pulled it into the lot of my shop and put it in park, the twenty inch gold rims continued to spin. The six inch lift made it almost as tall as my truck.

I imagine that when I died someday, the hell that was waiting for me looked very much like the purple velvet ridiculousness that covered the entire interior.

My stomach rolled when I thought back to the condition it'd been in when I first saw it. Reggie felt the same way because when the kid who was driving it pulled into the parking lot of Bert’s Bar one night, Reggie had flagged him down and offered him way more than what it was worth. Thank fucking god the stupid kid accepted his offer, handing over his keys as soon as I rode in with the cash.

I wasn't even mad that Reggie made the deal without asking me first. I'd gladly have paid twice that amount for the opportunity to turn it back into what both God and Ford had intended.

Maybe not necessarily in that order.

I'm glad Abby and Georgia weren't there when the Sheriff showed up that day, fish-tailing his old patrol car into my gravel parking lot like he was a fucking stunt driver for Dukes of Hazard, dust and dirt billowing from under his tires as he skidded to a stop, lights and sirens blaring in the middle of the fucking day. The Sheriff’s only deputy followed closely behind him with the only other patrol car in Coral Pines.

Sheriff Fletcher and Deputy Harbord got out of their cars and drew their guns, shielding themselves behind the open doors of their vehicles.