Chapter One
Big Jim DuVal loved his firstborn daughter. Hell, he loved all his daughters. Equally. But the moment that first one, his Molly, was born, she captured his heart with a fierceness he didn’t know existed. With that thick patch of rosy hair and those blue-green eyes, she looked just like her momma, and he figured he must be the luckiest man alive to have two beautiful females carrying his name.
So he doted on them both, chuckling at his wife’s frustration when their baby daughter crawled away during her diaperings to hide her naked tushy behind his legs. And then later, when as a toddler Molly'd scramble into his lap laughing so cute he'd just have to join in as she'd tear off her clothes tossing everything pink and ruffly to the floor. She’d even kick off her shoes and socks, preferring to be unhampered by any clothing as she scampered around the house naked and giggling.
By the time Molly was four, she was prone to pulling her shirt up over her head in public, exposing her chest and her little round belly. But Big Jim just laughed and took those opportunities to nuzzle up to his exasperated wife’s ear and whisper that Molly reminded him a lot of her.
His little darling grew up sweet and kind. All of Molly’s teachers claimed she was the one who would befriend the new kid in the class and pick the less fortunate athletes for her kickball team. She insisted on inviting all the girls to her birthday so no one’s feelings got hurt. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was becoming on the outside, and he was so proud of all of it that he paid zero attention to his wife’s concerns. All of his wife’s carryings-on about Molly’s predilection to short shorts and cropped tops didn’t faze him. In his opinion, she looked adorable in whatever she wore.
But Big Jim remembered well one hot summer day right before Molly entered eighth grade. The day when he got an inkling of what his wife had been frettin’ about all those years. That day spent around Henderson Country Club’s pool with his beautiful family opened his eyes…but good. Because when he tracked the appreciative stares from a bunch of young yahoos to a gaggle of pretty girls chatting around the snack bar, he saw it.
His sweet little Molly stood half a head taller than the rest of those young ladies, and her baby-girl belly had somehow turned into a tiny tucked-in waist. From her lean, shapely legs to her strawberry-blond curls, his darlin’ Molly had suddenly blossomed into a voluptuous young woman.
Just like her mother.
Wearing the skimpiest bikini ever known to man.
He turned to his darling wife who was stretched out on the lounge chair beside him, planning to complain for the first time ever about what their Molly was wearing. But he quickly bit his tongue because there was nothing Molly was showing off that his beautiful bride wasn’t. And that’s when it hit him. Molly was indeed just like her mother.
Lord Jesus.
That’s when his own teenage years began flashing before his eyes, and Big Jim started backpedaling. Fast.
That evening, once the girls were in bed, he opened a nice bottle of wine and set out to have a heart-to-heart chat with his wife. He suggested that the time had come for her to have a conversation with Molly about dressing appropriately, about propriety, and about the importance of maintaining a good reputation, especially in a small, gossipy town like Henderson. He rambled on, stating his case and his concerns for their eldest daughter and her lovely figure, until he noticed the stony silence and stiff posture emanating from the woman sitting next to him on the back porch.
Lori Bamberger DuVal, his bride of fifteen years at the time, didn’t mince words. No, she reminded him that her skimpily clad figure and questionable reputation were exactly what had attracted Big Jim to her in the first place. Then she reminded him that he was no damn saint himself. And if he thought she would ever play the hypocrite
Big Jim DuVal loved his firstborn daughter. Hell, he loved all his daughters. Equally. But the moment that first one, his Molly, was born, she captured his heart with a fierceness he didn’t know existed. With that thick patch of rosy hair and those blue-green eyes, she looked just like her momma, and he figured he must be the luckiest man alive to have two beautiful females carrying his name.
So he doted on them both, chuckling at his wife’s frustration when their baby daughter crawled away during her diaperings to hide her naked tushy behind his legs. And then later, when as a toddler Molly'd scramble into his lap laughing so cute he'd just have to join in as she'd tear off her clothes tossing everything pink and ruffly to the floor. She’d even kick off her shoes and socks, preferring to be unhampered by any clothing as she scampered around the house naked and giggling.
By the time Molly was four, she was prone to pulling her shirt up over her head in public, exposing her chest and her little round belly. But Big Jim just laughed and took those opportunities to nuzzle up to his exasperated wife’s ear and whisper that Molly reminded him a lot of her.
His little darling grew up sweet and kind. All of Molly’s teachers claimed she was the one who would befriend the new kid in the class and pick the less fortunate athletes for her kickball team. She insisted on inviting all the girls to her birthday so no one’s feelings got hurt. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was becoming on the outside, and he was so proud of all of it that he paid zero attention to his wife’s concerns. All of his wife’s carryings-on about Molly’s predilection to short shorts and cropped tops didn’t faze him. In his opinion, she looked adorable in whatever she wore.
But Big Jim remembered well one hot summer day right before Molly entered eighth grade. The day when he got an inkling of what his wife had been frettin’ about all those years. That day spent around Henderson Country Club’s pool with his beautiful family opened his eyes…but good. Because when he tracked the appreciative stares from a bunch of young yahoos to a gaggle of pretty girls chatting around the snack bar, he saw it.
His sweet little Molly stood half a head taller than the rest of those young ladies, and her baby-girl belly had somehow turned into a tiny tucked-in waist. From her lean, shapely legs to her strawberry-blond curls, his darlin’ Molly had suddenly blossomed into a voluptuous young woman.
Just like her mother.
Wearing the skimpiest bikini ever known to man.
He turned to his darling wife who was stretched out on the lounge chair beside him, planning to complain for the first time ever about what their Molly was wearing. But he quickly bit his tongue because there was nothing Molly was showing off that his beautiful bride wasn’t. And that’s when it hit him. Molly was indeed just like her mother.
Lord Jesus.
That’s when his own teenage years began flashing before his eyes, and Big Jim started backpedaling. Fast.
That evening, once the girls were in bed, he opened a nice bottle of wine and set out to have a heart-to-heart chat with his wife. He suggested that the time had come for her to have a conversation with Molly about dressing appropriately, about propriety, and about the importance of maintaining a good reputation, especially in a small, gossipy town like Henderson. He rambled on, stating his case and his concerns for their eldest daughter and her lovely figure, until he noticed the stony silence and stiff posture emanating from the woman sitting next to him on the back porch.
Lori Bamberger DuVal, his bride of fifteen years at the time, didn’t mince words. No, she reminded him that her skimpily clad figure and questionable reputation were exactly what had attracted Big Jim to her in the first place. Then she reminded him that he was no damn saint himself. And if he thought she would ever play the hypocrite
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