Page 143 of Deuce

“D-Deuce… Stanley what are you doing?”

“Marry me?”

“Are— are you serious?”

“Why would I play about that? Do I ever play about you?”

“No.”

“All right then. You gon’ give me an answer?”

She looked from me to the ring, then back to me.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

I slipped the ring on her finger. She bursted into tears and fell against me, crying hard as hell. Her mother, mine, Grams, and my sisters all offered her comfort in the form of back rubs. Ms. Karen grabbed my hand and squeezed it as she offered me a warm smile. We had many conversations that week and a half I stayed with them and this was one of them. I didn’t know when I was going to ask Salima to marry me, but I knew eventually I would and I wanted her mother’s blessing.

Much to my surprise, she gave it only on the condition that I would keep her baby safe and never allow what happened with Mirron’s bitch ass to ever happen again. I put that shit on my life. Now that she was carrying my baby, she’d have a detail any time she went out without me. She would probably fuss or curse me out about that, but so be it.

Salima stared at the ring in amazement. “I can’t believe this.”

“Am I not a man of my word?”

“You’ve always been a man of your word.”

She cupped my face and kissed me like she was trying to have me break her off right there in front of our people. My grandmother cleared her throat.

“All right now! Remember where you’re at. Take that back to your house.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Grams,” I jested.

She shook her head. “I guess we have a reason to celebrate!” she exclaimed. “Everybody outside! Somebody put on some music! We’re having a party!’

My family immediately started moving to follow each other out back. Salima grabbed my hand and casually led me in the opposite direction, right out of the dining hall. A smirk played on her face as we ducked off into the downstairs bathroom.

“Whatchu’ on, ma?” I asked as she fumbled with my pants.

She snapped her fingers, and shushed me. “Can you keep quiet?” she asked, dropping into a squat and pulling my dick from my pants. “I want to show you how happy I am to be your wife.”

“You know they are gonna talk shit when we go out there, right?”

“You care?” she asked, stroking my dick. She slapped the head against her tongue as she peered up at me.

“Fuck no. Open that pretty ass mouth and show daddy some gratitude.”

Not another word was spoken as she deep throated every inch of me. As she sucked the soul from my shit, I thought to myself,“I get to have this shit for the rest of my life.”What could be better?

ONE YEAR OR SO LATER

I woketo the sound of “My Girl” by The Temptations playing through the surround sound. Rolling over, I noticed that the room was empty. After a good stretch, I got out of bed and slipped into my robe and house shoes before leaving the bedroom and following the sound of the music. What I was when I entered the kitchen warmed my heart. There was my husband dressed in nothing but a durag, basketball shorts, long ass socks and slippers, dancing with our baby girl.

Darlyn Dream Dillinger was three months old and her daddy was obsessed with her. My entire pregnancy, that man worked my nerves so damn bad that it was no surprise she came out withhis whole face. There was no way he could deny her even if he wanted to.

As he danced and sung to her, she stared in his face with a smile on her face.

“That’s Daddy’s baby,” he said, kissing her cheeks. “My favorite girl.”

I smiled as I made my way over to them. When he saw me, he maneuvered her into the crook of his arm so he could welcome me into a hug.

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