A/N: Now it's time for Tina's and Dwight's reaction. Please forgive all my mistakes. I so want to stop working on this and read all the great stories that are now on FFnet. Thank you Rontora and Keshbeast and everybody else who have been keeping this community thriving. I do so suffer from procrastination and ADD so it's hard for me to finish this story with so much temptation dangling in front of me, but I will try to persevere and finish this tale. Thanks for your continual support and please now I don't take credit for any of this. Just the hours it take to update. I don't know how the authors do more than one story. I am in awe and I hope you all are reading their stories and uplifting them as well. Whew!

Eleven

Mercedes

"Why didn't you come to me for help with Granny?" Tina snaps. She's never snapped at me before, and I almost take a step back.

"You've already done so much for me, and you were on your babymoon and told me not to call you unless it was an emergency." I say in my defense.

"What the hell? Your grandmother having a stroke and being in ICU is the definition of an emergency. Also, what exactly have I done for you besides getting your cousin hired?"

"You hired me at the hotel when I had no experience as a part-time manager. You include me and pay for me to attend all the things you and Marley do, so I don't feel let out. You—"

She holds her hand up, and I stop talking. "I interviewed you, and you crushed the interview. I thought I would be crazy not to hire you. And you have proved me right by doing an excellent job in both things at the hotel. You're my friend, so of course I want you to go places with me and have fun. And as for those expenses, Mike's family are billionaires. He pays for all of that. It doesn't come out of my salary. And if you can treat your friends and family, who can you treat? Bottom line is I would have helped you with Granny. She is very important to me. She always treated me like family. I thought we were family. You didn't have to sell your body and soul to Sam Evans. You could have and should have come to me first." She throws her hands up in defeat, and I hang my head. Not in shame, but because I've upset my very pregnant best friend who I loved like a sister.

"Please, calm down, Tina" I say. She's six months pregnant, and the last thing she needs is to get upset for any reason. "You are right about us being family. I married Sam. It's a decision I made, and it will be okay."

"It will be okay," she mocks. "You're a mother now, Mercedes. That's serious. Jessica already depends on you. She's already had so much loss in her life. You're not a babysitter. You're her mother. Do you understand that? You are Jessica's mother. Are you ready for that? And what about love? You deserve that and so much more." Her tone and eyes soften with the last question. She opens her arms and I go in. We're about the same height, and she is finally larger than me because she is pregnant with twins. So, she is the big sis this time. She hugs me tight, and I close my eyes and linger in her embrace.

I feel a lump in my throat because everything she says is true, but I did what I did for my grandma. She's always been an integral part of my life. She helped raise me and has kept me out of trouble. If the situation was reversed, my grandmother would do the same for me with no second thoughts.

"It's going to be okay," I say, trying to reassure my friend. "Sam and I will be fine, and I'm not going to turn my back on Jessica. I know it's a big responsibility, but I can do this for Jessica and my grandmother. Jessica is so easy to love and Sam is not so bad. I think I judged him a little too harshly in the past."

I pull away and look into Tina's eyes. She doesn't look more convinced than when we first started this conversation, but she looks away and nods. I'm pretty sure it's a nod of defeat and not acceptance, but I'll take it.

"Did you have sex with Sam the Lady's Man Evans?" she whispers. I am embarrassed to admit it but I nod. "So, he has you dickmatized. Your first dicking down was so good, and now you have lost your mind like his damn Sammyfans."

"I was wrong about him," I admit. "And the sex is great, but I agreed to marry him before we had sex, so I don't think I am dickmatized; although I admit to seeing it before I married him, and it is huge," I whisper. She widens her eyes in shock.

"Mercedes Antionette Jones!" she says, but she laughs.

"I know why all the fangirls who had him went on social media…everything they said is true, and the man can also cook and clean up after himself," I add.

"Okay," she says. "I won't tell you that I think you have made a mistake. I have been married before and I know how hurtful divorce is. The most important thing is I wish you had called me first." I arch an eyebrow at her. "I'm sure your mother's already told you, but I'm here for you. You're my sister, do you hear me?" I feel tears in the back of my eyes. My vision becomes blurry, and all I can do is nod. "You can talk to me about anything and everything, but don't ever again talk to me about the size of Sam Evans's dick again, you hear?"

We both burst into laughter at her last order. While we hug, Jessica runs into the office and wraps herself around my leg saying Say Say. Mike and Sam follow.

"How about we celebrate with some dinner?" Mike says. "Which restaurant should I make reservations for?" He puts a hand on Tina's protruding belly and quickly changes his mind. "Scrap that idea let's order in," he says before she can answer. "It was a long flight, love. Relax, and I'll take care of it. I'll order from that Caribbean place you love." He kisses her temple, and I swoon at the scene.

Sam comes over to me, grabs my hand in his hand and turns it over and kisses the back of it. This takes me by surprise, but I find that I like it. He lingers there nipping my hand with soft love bites.

Mike catches us, and he slowly shakes his head.

"I'm going to throw you guys a reception," Tina announces. "We can have it here. All you two have to do is give me a list of people you want me to invite."

I look into Sam's face and something changes. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was emotional. He lets go of my hand and pulls Tina into a hug. When he lifts her off her feet, she lets out a little shriek and threatens him to put her down ASAP.

I never thought I'd be inside the Chang's private plane. I've heard all about it from Tina. She's even sent me pictures, but being in it doesn't compare to her selfies. The only downside is that the trip to Tennessee where Sam is from only takes an hour and a half.

"I don't know how I can ever go back to commercial flights," I whisper to Sam.

We're ushered off the plane and into a waiting car while someone puts our luggage in the trunk. Jessica happily kicks her legs as she looks out the window..

Sam is being very pensive and unlike his cheerful man that I have gotten to know even better since we are married. We sit with Jessica between us, but something is different. It's like a switch went off when we stepped out of the plane. Just a few minutes ago, he was playful and light, now he's looking like he his about to face his executioner.

I reach past Jessica's car seat and put my hand on his knee. He puts his hand on mine, looks my way, and smiles. It's the same smile Jessica has, and I see some of his mischievousness return in that moment.

We don't speak, but he keeps his hand on mine. It's a hot and humid day as it's the first week of August. Despite his hand being warm, it's nice and comforting.

It takes us about thirty minutes to get to an upscale neighborhood. The houses are big, and after the driver turns down a few streets until we end up in a cul-de-sac. He stops at a big brick house and pulls into the long driveway that is big enough for three cars.

The car barely comes to a stop when I see someone peeking through the blinds. As far as I know, only Sam's father lives here, so it has to be him.

The garage door opens, but the driver does not pull in. Sam gets out and helps me and Jessica out while the driver puts our bags in the garage. I don't see a car in there. It's empty as we walk through it, up a few steps, and through a door. It opens into a laundry room, and that leads to a long hallway.

The house is nicely decorated, but it's dark. Sam turns on the lights while we walk into the living room. The man is still standing by the window, and his eyes light up when he sees Sam and Jessica.

"Ike," Jessica says, and he runs across the room to take her from Sam. He kisses her cheeks and she giggles. He puts her down and looks at his son. I can see some resemblance. They have the same hair color and nose. He's thin but has a bit of a belly underneath his plaid flannel like shirt. He also looks a little haggard, but he has kind blue eyes.

"Hey, Sammy," he says, his voice low. "I'm happy to see you." Sam doesn't say anything back, but his father opens his arms, and Sam goes in for a hug. Mr. Evans closes his eyes and tightens the hug, but it only lasts a moment. Sam pulls away and busies himself by pretending to look around the house.

I stand there and wait for an introduction, but their dynamic is foreign to me. No one in my family is quiet, and it will be a cold day in hell when my mother pretends to be shy around me or anyone I bring home. Had this been the other way around, she would have asked my guest about fifteen questions by now.

"Dad," Sam begins, "This is Mercedes. Mercedes, this is my dad, Dwight Evans."

When Mr. Evans smiles, he reminds me of Sam and Jessica. They all have the same smile, but where Jessica and Sam have mischief in their eyes, his are filled with sadness. He walks slowly to me and takes my hand in his. His hand is warm and when he squeezes mine, I get a good feeling.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Whorev—"

I feel a liquid heat spread across my cheeks. Sam snorts and starts to chuckle. Mr. Evans's grin deepens.

"Did you just call me a whore?" he asks, and I am even more embarrassed than before. I should not have had all that champagne on the short plane ride.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Evans," I say again, but I grin back this time.

"She calls me Whorevans," Sam says to his father.

"Oh," he says. He squeezes my hand, but he pulls me in for a hug. He tightens his arms around me before he pulls back and kisses my cheek. "Well, he's done with that lifestyle," he says, defending his son. "He's a good boy, and the best son anyone could ask for. I gave him a good talking to after we found out about Jessica." Just as he says it, he scoops Jessica up and tickles her belly. "Even though I love this little girl more than anything, Sam, you're married now, so the only funny business you should be doing is only with your wife. And Mercedes, just call me Dwight."

Sam rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth, but he must think better of whatever he was going to say because he shuts it.

"I'm so glad you three are here." He takes Jessica and brings her to a corner of the living room where he has a mountain of toys. "I went a little crazy shopping for Jessica." He stands after handing her a stuffed animal. He looks around the place and says I even bought a grill and food to last a month for us to eat."

"That is nice of you, Mr. Evans," I say, trying to break the ice that Sam has buried himself in as he listens to his father.

"Please call me Dwight?" he asks me then continues talking a mile a minute. "You and I are going to be friends, and don't worry about me. I'm going to be the best father-in-law in the world to you. Not one of those pain in the ass ones who you dread being around." He smiles, and I can't stop myself from smiling back at him. "She's quite the looker Sam. Those pictures on the Internet don't do her justice. They were so focused on your backs and the rings. Good job." He gives his son a thumbs up.

Sam ignores his father.

"What Samuel Evans? You don't think I'm pretty?" I joke.

"I don't think it, I know it. Since the first day I saw you even though you didn't like me." My heart skips a beat at that. The first time I met him, I was singing at the hotel. In fact, I barely looked at Evans. The room goes silent, as I try to think of something witty to say to break the tension. "Let me show you our room. I'll bring our stuff up later."

Sam snatches my hand before I can say anything else. He practically pulls me to the back staircase in the rear of the kitchen. I barely have time to look around the house. When we get upstairs, I pull away from him. He stops and stares at me. When I stop walking, he gestures for me to follow.

"What's wrong?" I ask him. He sighs and looks away, and I realize I've never seen him like this before. He has never been cold. "Why are you upset? You've been in a mood since we got off the plane, and I don't get it. Why?" When he remains quiet, I inch closer and whisper, "Did he abuse you or something? If he did, we're getting the hell out of here. And I'm going to tell my mother and Tina you left Jessica alone around a child abuser."

I think my question shocks him. His head snaps up, and he looks into my eyes. "What?"

"I mean it. Did he hurt you? I'll beat his ass if he did?"

"Can you come into the bedroom please?" His words come out terse, but I follow when he stomps down the hall. We go through an open door into a bedroom. It's a spacious room with a king-sized bed and a recliner on the side. There's a big screen TV on the wall, and a crib in the corner.

"We can't leave Jessica with him if—"

"He's not going to hurt her. He's never laid a hand on me. He's not like that. All he's going to do to her is spoil her rotten by doing whatever she wants and laugh at everything she does."

"Then why are you so upset?"

"Have you ever seen my dad before? Has he ever been to one of my games? Do you remember seeing him at Jessica's christening?" I think back and can't think of a single time I've met his father. "Well, that's because he never leaves the house."

I tilt my head to the side and ask, "What? Is he on house arrest or something?"

He smiles for the first time since we got here. "God, no. I wish. At least that would make sense, but he's never been in trouble with the law. You have to leave the house for that to happen in most cases. He has all these issues. When I was a kid, he came home one day, sat his butt on the couch and never got up. Do you want to know why I had to learn to cook when I was so young? Because I had no one else to do it. My mom, or the woman I was made to believe was my mom, had moved out, but I'd see her sometimes. After a few years, that stopped. She met someone else, stopped drinking, divorced my dad, left town, and left me behind. She had another son, and I only saw Stevie like twice. She made sure to tell me he wasn't my real brother."

"Oh, Sam," is all I can think to say. "I had no idea."

"I didn't tell you all that so that you would pity me," he says.

I raise both hands in surrender. "Okay. You won't get any then," I tell him giving up on understanding him.

"I spent my childhood taking care of him. We were almost homeless because he didn't work. I'd have to get on my bike and go to the store for groceries. At least we qualified for food stamps, once he got on disability. Instead of being a kid and being carefree, I was turned into his caregiver. The worst part is, I'm stuck with his ass because he has no one else. I wish I didn't give a damn, and I could live my life without him. Lord knows I've tried." He drops himself on the bed and covers his face with his big hands. I sit next to him, putting my hand on his thigh and rub it.

"You've had a traumatic childhood," I say. "I won't pretend to understand how you feel because that's not my experience, and I don't want to minimize what you've been through."

"I never had a chance to be a kid. Now, I'm a dad, and that's fine. I love Jessica, and she's my responsibility. She didn't ask to be here, and she deserves everything." He sits up abruptly. I move my hand from his lap, but he lifts it and puts it back there. "But I was supposed to be his responsibility, not the other way around."

"You're right. That's the way it should be. You deserved a childhood." He rests a hand on mine.

"And he just expects me to come here to him every time so he can play the part of a doting father and grandfather. I still have to take care of him when I'm here. I do all the cooking because he claims I'm better at it than he is. I make sure he's taking his medication and seeing his therapist."

"How does he see a therapist if he won't leave the house?"

"One comes to him. It costs me an arm and a leg." I know the last part is his resentment talking. The man makes more than a million dollars a year, and that doesn't include endorsements. "Did you know he refused treatment at first? He had a full-on meltdown and ugly cried. I threatened to cut him out of my life if he didn't. I wasn't budging on that."

I look around the room and ask, "This can't be your childhood home. How did he move in here?"

"I have no idea," he admits. "He was freaking out about it, and I lost my patience. I told him if he tried to stay at the trailer, he would never see me again, and that I would have the movers club him over the head and drag him out unconscious for all I cared."

"Sam," I say, shooketh to the core.

"Not my best moment, but I was dealing with a lot at that time."

"I am trying to understand." We sit in the room in silence, and I inch closer. I remember how my mom would just sit with me in silence whenever I was upset. She would listen and even if she disagreed, she never minimized my feelings. I decide I'm going to do the same with Sam moving forward.

There's a knock on the door, and Sam groans.

"Sammy," Dwight says from the other side of the room, "come have a snack. I've missed you, Son. It's so lonely around here. The housekeeper is great, but she's not family. One time she brought her little grandson because there was no one to watch him. I told her she could bring him anytime. He's four and we spent the day watching cartoons."

"You can come in," Sam says, and the door opens. He's holding Jessica, who holds her hands out to Sam when she sees him. Dwight puts her down, and she runs to us and tries to climb on the bed. Sam lifts her up and sits on her on his lap, and she lays her head on his chest.

I smile at the two of them and run my hand over her little head. She gives me a smile that's just like her father's.

"Nom nom," she says.

"Maybe you can make us some sandwiches for lunch," Dwight says to Sam.

"You know what, Dwight? I can make some delicious sandwiches. Come show me around your kitchen, and I'll make us some for lunch."

He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. I follow him out the door and down the stairs. I finally get to look around downstairs, and it's a beautiful, clean house. I open the fridge and pull out things to make sandwiches with, and I put them back in when I noticed a rotisserie chicken and I pulled it out to prepare instead.

"How do you feel about chicken salad sandwiches? I make really good ones."

"Sounds good to me. I'm not much of a cook," he says. He looks toward the stairs and back at me. "Sam's a good boy," he whispers. "And you seem like a nice girl." He smiles, and I see some of Sam in him. I smile back.

"Well, I'll keep all my dark secrets to myself and let you believe the best of me, Dwight." He laughs and sits down.

"Tell me how you met Sam. He never tells me anything. It's like pulling teeth sometimes with that boy." He surprises me when he reaches across the island and rests a hand on mine. "I really do want us to be friends."

This man never leaves the house, so I'm going to assume Sam and Jessica are his only friends. And Sam is only in this out of obligation mostly. I'm certain of it.

"Well, as your friend, I promise never to lie to you. I did not like your son at all when I first met him. In fact, I disliked him way before I ever laid eyes on him."

His eyes widen, but then he gives me a lopsided grin.

"It was because of all the girls, wasn't it?"

"Bingo. I judged him so hard. Let me tell you about the day we actually met—"

Sam

Jessica giggles when I tickle her belly and toss her over my shoulder. I spin around, and she lets out a big belly laugh just like I knew she would.

"More," she yells, and I do it again, but stop when I start to get dizzy. I take her off my shoulder and put her under my arm like a football.

I ran out of the room, down the hall, and down the stairs. I hear laughter and chatter when I get there, which is not a sound I'm used to in this house unless it's Jessica's baby giggles.

"No way," I hear Mercedes say.

"It's true. He struggled with reading and writing his entire life but my boy is a math scholar. Everything that deals with math and sciences my boy could do. If he hadn't been good at baseball, I bet he could have become a doctor. Lord knows they can't write well either." I turn the corner in time to see my father standing there, proudly puffing out his chest at my accomplishments. "I don't know where he got that from. Not from me or his mom. I barely graduated from high school."

"I don't believe any of that," Mercedes says. She holds a bread knife and homeruns it at me. "Sam Evans? A math genius? No way." She grins, and I smirk. "All he does is play ball and dance like this." She exaggerates rolling her hips, and my dad bursts into laughter.

"Well, I never said he was emotionally mature. That's an awful dance, too. The Sammyfan thing is behind him or he's going to have to answer to me." Dad looks at me, and I almost want to laugh. As if he ever had any authority over me. For as long as I can remember, I've always been the one telling him what to do. "I'm gonna go find his report cards to prove to you that my boy is a mathematical genius." He hops off the stool and starts to walk away, but Jessica runs after him. He stops long enough to pick her up along his way.

Mercedes slices a sourdough baguette, and I go behind the counter to help, but she puts the knife down and puts a hand to my chest. Something about the gesture shocks me. She pushes against me, and I wrap my hand around her wrist. I show her how powerless she is as I pull her into my body. I put my hand on her ass and gyrate.

"Is this what you were talking about?" I whisper in her ear. I continue my slow grinding until I hear her moan. She bites her lip, and I lower my mouth. Her eyes stay on mine until I get close to her lips. "You're gonna have to wait." Then I let her go and move away to reach for the knife again. "Let me do it."

"No." She snatches the knife before I can get to it. "I've got it. Sit your rhythm challenged ass down." She points to a chair, and when I continue to just stand there, she snatches my wrist and starts to pull me.

I let her, and she leads me to the couch. When she motions to it, I sit, but I pull her onto my lap. She feels good. I always knew she would. Holding a woman like this has never interested me. Only children are supposed to be held like this. At least that's what I think. It's not like I have experience sitting on a loved one's lap, but having her like this, I realize that intimacy is not a bad thing.

She looks into my eyes, and I hold her stare. My hand travels up her spine until I cup the back of her head. I tilt my head up, and she leans down. The kiss is slow and sweet. One of her hands lands on my chest, and I wrap my free one around it to keep her there.

I never realized touching without the intentions of sex could be so intimate. We continue to kiss and my mind melts when she moans against my mouth. I start to think of other ways to make her moan. If my dad and daughter weren't upstairs, I'd lay her on the couch and make slow, sweet love to her. I'd hold her underneath me, and I'd hold her through her orgasm, but that will have to wait until tonight.

"You're going to make me lunch?" I ask when we finally break the kiss. She nods and rests her forehead on mine. "You don't have to."

"I know," she says, "but I am going to."

I shrug but don't argue. I shock her when I take her chin between my teeth and start to growl like a dog.

"Oh my god. Let me go, you mangy mutt." I pull on her gently. She could easily pull away and run, but she doesn't. She wraps her hand around my shirt. I throw her on the couch and straddle her. I take both her wrists and lift them above her head. She starts to laugh and scream. With my free hand, I lift her shirt and start to tickle her. "I'm so gonna kick your sorry ass, Sam Evans," she says between laughs.

"I'm so scared." I drop her wrists, take one of her legs, and throw it around my waist. "Come on. Fight me." I put my full weight on her, rendering her completely immobile.

"Get off me, you giant." I don't. I press harder, and a carnal moan slips out of her lips, suddenly awakening my body. Uncaring that we're not alone in the house, I kiss her again.

I kiss her until I hear a loud throat clearing. I look up to find my dad smiling down at me. He's holding a folder in one hand and Jessica in the other. He puts her on my back.

"Horsey," she says.

"I found those report cards," he says. Come on." He gestures for Mercedes to follow, and I slide off her body while still keeping Jessica on my back.

"Horsey," she says again, and I give her a horseback ride while pretending to act like a horse.