Sin City Baby: A Reverse Harem Accidental Marriage Romance by Rye Hart

Author:Rye Hart [Hart, Rye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-29T05:00:00+00:00

The End

STEP DADDY DESIRES

A Reverse Harem Romance

Ember

Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream started, and that was my cue. I stood at the end of the aisle, staring toward the front where the groom and his groomsmen were all waiting. As I walked, I smiled brightly, and clutched my bouquet tightly. The groom's sapphire blue eyes fell on me and a small smile played at his lips. That little gesture stole the breath from my lungs and I couldn't take my eyes off him.

Jude Calloway was the sexiest bachelor in all of Chicago, or rather, I should say he used to be the sexiest bachelor in all of Chicago. In just a few moments, he'd be a married man. Standing at the head of the aisle, staring back at me, he looked every bit as desirable as he had in the pages of Forbes magazine – short cropped brown hair that was so dark it almost looked black. A few, subtle hints of gray at his temples made him look even more distinguished and sexy, and a chiseled jaw line that looked like it had been sculpted from granite.

God, he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever laid eyes on, and my heart swelled as I reached the pastor. I took my place with the other bridesmaids and waited for my mom, the bride, to make her entrance. The music changed abruptly to the Wedding March and the four hundred or so guests all stood at attention, turning to see my mother walk down the aisle where she would join her future husband, Jude, at the altar.

Lydia DuBois, my mother, made a stunning bride and she knew it. Although she was a woman who was approaching fifty, you would have never guessed it. Her blonde hair was piled high into an intricate updo, soft tendrils falling around her face. She was petite, like me, but that's where the similarities between us ended.

While I never knew my father, I was told I took after him – the Irish side of my family tree. I was born with red hair, and my mom said she knew my name the moment she saw me – Ember, to represent the fire on my head and in my heart.

Both of us stood right around five-foot-three, but where my mom was waifish, I had curves. I would never be a size two like my mother was, a fact she enjoyed flaunting.

She walked down the aisle slowly, all eyes on her in a Chantilly lace, vintage-style gown. My mom was a former petite model back in the day. Had she had the height, there was no doubt she would have been on runways around the world. But, being under the five-foot-six minimum for runway models meant she never knew international stardom. It didn't stop her from using what fame she did have to build herself an empire though – complete with rich husbands.

Yes, I said husbands. This wasn't my mom's first rodeo, and I somehow doubted it would be her last.

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