Trapped with My Best Friend's Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 258)

by Flora Ferrari

  Suddenly it’s too much for us.

  Millie and I let out a sob at the same time, the sound joining in a crackle, like the thunder which brought Roman and me together.

  We cry at the same time, the emotion bursting out of us.

  After a moment Roman stands and pulls me around the table to Millie’s side. She stands with Tanker cradled to her chest and the three of us – the four of us including the little terrier – embrace, holding onto each other.

  We stay like that for a long time, frozen, and then Millie leans back and giggles.

  “If you’d told me this was how I’d spend my first day at the cabin, no freaking way would I have believed you.”

  “Does that laugh mean we have your blessing?” Roman asks.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Millie says. “Yes, you have my blessing. I won’t say I don’t find it a little weird. But nobody could look at the two of you and see anything but happiness. And as long as you’re not going to break up and leave me without a best friend—”

  “Never,” Roman and I say at the same time, with the same passion brimming in our voices.

  “Then I have nothing to complain about. Just promise me you’ll be happy, both of you.”

  “Together?” Roman looks across at me, his lips twitching into a smile, not his usual smirk. “It would be impossible to be anything but happy.”

  I love you, I cry in my mind. So, so much.

  But I can’t push things too fast in that direction, because he might not say it back. Maybe the whiplash will destroy us both.

  For now, this is enough – the closeness, the emotion, the acceptance.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Roman

  “Dad, relax,” Millie says. “You’re going to go crazy. Just calm down.”

  I do my best to smile across at her, but I can’t stop the anxiety from bubbling up inside of me. We’re sitting in the living room, the remains of our breakfast on the coffee table between us. Tanker paces up and down near the table, glancing up at me every few moments as though checking if my attention has lapsed and he can hop up there and lap at the remains of our toast.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her.

  She laughs. “Liar. Her mom’s really cool. She’s going to be fine.”

  I nod, trying to take my daughter’s words and make them a truth within me.

  “I just wish she’d let me be there when she tells her.”

  “She knows her mom better than you. She’ll take it better if she hears it from Rayla first. I’m sure you will get a chance to talk to her after.”

  I’m going to make sure I get a chance… as long as it doesn’t all come crashing down before then.

  The hope that my daughter is right whelms up inside of me, as my mind drifts over these past few days – perfect days I wish would never end.

  After we told Millie about our relationship, I expected things to become stilted around the cabin, awkward, as she accustomed herself to this new arrangement.

  But it was the exact opposite. She fell right back into her friendship with Rayla and it’s like nothing has changed between us, as we banter just like we always do, as we discuss writing and books and life.

  We’ve spent the days walking Tanker, writing, and reading… and then, once the house is night-quiet and Rayla and I are alone, we devour each other.

  We sink into each other when the sun sets, blazing our hands across each other as more and more heated passion moves through us each time. We can’t stop ourselves the second we’re alone.

  But now she’s decided to tell her parents and I’m sitting out here like a douchebag, no idea if it’s going to go wrong.

  Suddenly she appears at the door. My eyes roam over her body like they always do when she first enters a room. She’s wearing jeans and a frilly top, making her upper half look like a gift I can’t wait to unwrap.

  When my gaze flows over her face, it’s like a series of fireworks go off inside of me, each one louder and brighter than the last. Her smile is wide and radiant, lighting up her whole face, making her look like she’s going to burst with all the joy flowing out of her.

  “It went well, I take it?” Millie says because apparently, I’ve lost the ability to speak as I drink in the sight of my woman.

  “Yes, very,” she says. “I knew Mom would be chill about it. She said that, as long as we’re happy, I should live my life any way I see fit. I mean, heck, Markus is quite a few years older than her, so she can’t exactly complain on that front. And she said the same thing you did, Millie.”

  “That you’ve never looked so happy,” I whisper, rising slowly and walking across the room. “That you’ve never looked so comfortable, so ready to face the future, so perfect.”

  My woman giggles, her starry voice dancing around the room. “Well, she didn’t put it quite like that. But yes, more or less, that’s what she said.”

  “She’s right,” I growl, reaching over and cradling her face in my hands.

  Her eyes flit over to Millie, and I remind myself to be careful, to try and tame the animal which tries to break out of me with more and more force each moment.

  I know it’s an impossible battle, so I quickly move my hands away.

  “Can I speak to her?” I ask.

  “What for?” Rayla replies. “I promise you she’s completely fine. She didn’t need any convincing at all.”

  “It’s not that,” I say. “I need to ask her something.”

  She narrows her eyes and a look glimmers across her face like she’s daring herself to hope, to dream she’s right.

  At least, I’m hoping, I’m dreaming…

  I’m dreaming that I haven’t misread my woman, dreaming that her mother gives me the answer I crave, dreaming that I never have to be apart from my Rayla for as long as we live.

  “Where are we going?” Rayla asks the next afternoon, gripping onto the edges of the canoe as I lead us across the lake.

  I grin over at her, savoring the way her body moves for me in that flowing dress. It has little roses, her dress, which is fitting. She’s as fresh and radiant as the flowers which bloom alongside the lake, as though pointing us in the right direction – the only direction that matters.

  Our future.

  But what will she say?

  “Do you want to ruin the surprise?” I tease.

  She rolls her eyes and leans forward, shooting me one of her sassy looks, so new, so beautiful. Watching her let her defenses drop and become this more confident, sassier version of herself has been like heaven.

  I guide the canoe across to the other side of the lake, until our cabin – and it will always be known as our cabin – recedes and becomes small. Right over to the other end, I steer it toward the shore, my heart beginning to drum in my chest.

  What will she say? Is this the beginning, or the end?

  “Come on,” I whisper, climbing from the canoe and then reaching down for her.

  She gives me a daring look as she takes my hand as if she’s ready for anything. Maybe she thinks I’ve brought her all the way out here just to claim that curvy body again… and I will, once I’ve asked the most important question of my life.

  Squeezing her hand tightly around mine, she follows me as I walk toward the forest, between the pine trees. The underbrush crunches and squelches as we walk, and Rayla giggles as I spin around and lift her into my arms.

  She clutches onto my chest, smiling down at me, and then her smile shifts. Her eyes widen as we round the corner and the scene comes into view.

  She just felt it – the ring, in my pocket. She just felt it.

  Fuck.

  I guess it’s now or never.

  I put her down and gesture to the clearing.

  I’ve placed an oak table and chairs here, with a silver platter and a bottle of champagne on ice to cool. She’s twenty but this is a special occasion – one that will never be repeated.

  “I wanted to wine and dine you first,” I tell her, smoothing the wild hair from her face as
she stares up at me. “But I think fate’s just made the choice for me, angel, just like it always does with us.”

  Her eyes sparkle as she tries to hold back her tears.

  She turns to the table and then back to me.

  “This is beautiful. Like a little world all to ourselves.”

  “Of course,” I whisper passionately. “That’s what we had in the cabin, a universe all our own, and that’s what I want with you for the rest of our lives. I love you, Rayla. I love you more than anything.”

  She gasps and stares up at me, her mouth hanging open. “What?”

  I chuckle, moving forward. “You didn’t hear me? I said I love you, angel.”

  My hands make deep impressions on her hips as I pull us closer together, so intimately connected now I can feel her heartbeat hammering against my midriff.

  “I love you too,” she whispers. “So much.”

  A weight drops away from me, all the pressure of her answer releasing in a torrent. “Thank God.”

  “You’re surprised?” She gasps. “Of course I love you, Roman. I’ve loved you for freaking years, it feels like. I know that’s impossible. But it feels like forever. I was waiting – hoping, praying – for you to say it so I could say it back. I love you so, so much.”

  “I love you,” I growl, and then take a step back.

  She lets out a whimpering noise when I fall to one knee, reach into my pocket and curl my hand around the ring box.

  “Before I met you, I had this emptiness inside of me, Rayla. I can’t explain what it was. It was like a hole, a black hole, sucking away the goodness of so much of my life. Maybe it’s always been there, but I was able to beat it back. But then the writing stopped, the words stopped, and I knew only a miracle would bring it back.

  “That’s what you are, my perfect woman. You’re my miracle. You’ve changed me for the better in a hundred different ways. You’re kind and funny and sassy and shy, talented, beautiful, and mine. Forever.”

  “Forever,” she whispers.

  “Which is why I had to talk to your mom privately and ask her for something very important. I had to ask her for her blessing.”

  A sob cracks in the back of her throat as I reveal the ring box, opening it to display the elegant diamond set within the glistening band. It cost a whole year’s worth of royalties, this elegant and full ring, and it was worth it.

  She’s worth the world.

  “Rayla Davis, make me the happiest man alive and become my wife. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” she cries, throwing herself at me. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  I chuckle and catch her as we both roll around in the grass, wrapping my arms around her and somehow finding her lips in the mayhem. She giggles and sits up on top of me, staring down with that just-Rayla mixture of hope and love, warmth, and perfection.

  Her eyes are alight as she stares down, and then she looks off to the side.

  “Where is it? Oh, no, I haven’t lost it, have it?”

  I smirk. “You knocked the ring box out of my hand, angel, but I managed to save this.”

  I produce the ring with a flourish and reach up for her hand, laughing when I realize I’ve got the wrong one. She giggles and offers me her left hand, and then I slide the ring on, my soul singing as it glistens down at me.

  Then I sit up, wrapping my arms around her so she’s straddling me, so we’re as close as it’s physically possible for two people to get.

  “I love you so, so much,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to start a family together, a life together.”

  “I love you too. And you’re mine as well, Roman. I want you to know that.”

  “Your what?” I say, voice heavy and deep with emotion, leaning forward to fuse our lips together again.

  “My miracle,” she whispers.

  We kiss deeply, passionately.

  We kiss like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

  Epilogue

  One Month Later

  Rayla

  I walk through the apartment and stand at the window, looking down over the apartment building’s courtyard. The flowers are verdant and luscious, giving the place a welcoming and homely feel, and the rest of the apartment is the same.

  Bright and airy and letting in all the sunlight in the world, it’s the perfect place for Roman and me to stay together while I continue my studies. When the semester started and he suggested that we move from the cabin – where we stayed for a whole month – to an apartment near my campus, I screamed yes.

  The same way I screamed yes when he put his glittering diamond on my finger.

  I sigh, turning away from the courtyard when I see he isn’t home yet.

  He’d gone to have a private lunch with his agent, talking over his latest book. He’s been writing at warp freaking speed ever since he first broke through his writer’s block, his fingers clattering over the keyboard as I sit in the room with him, giving all the support he deserves.

  My mind flits back over the past month as I pace around the apartment, strolling over to the wide cream couch and dropping down next to Tanker. The sleeping dog harrumphs and climbs into my lap, resting his snout against my legs.

  This apartment is far more modern than the cabin, with an open-plan look and wide windows which look out upon the city.

  Everything is sleek and stylish and I love it, love that we’re staying here until my studies are done, but there’s no freaking way I can claim not to miss the cabin.

  Tanker makes a soft purring noise like he often does in his sleep, and my heart swells with even more love.

  Love, love, love.

  The word hasn’t stopped flowing around me ever since Roman threw it at me, hurled it like a Cupid’s arrow, and changed our lives forever.

  “You had a part to play too, little man,” I whisper as Tanker rolls onto his back and shows me his belly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you always managed to disappear when Roman I wanted to be alone.”

  His lips twitch and for a moment I’m sure he’s about to break into laughter. But then he leaps up and runs across the floor, pausing at the hallway, staring down at it with his tail pricked.

  My chest tightens and my heart drums through me.

  Roman must be home.

  I stand just as the front door swings open, my man striding into the apartment in a suit the same steel-gray as his hair. He let his beard grow out a little at the cabin, but now he’s shaved it close again, letting me see the strong square shapeliness of his jaw.

  After he kneels down and says hello to Tanker – with lots of neck and ear scratching – he walks over to me with a wide smile on his face. A smile, not a smirk, because my fiancé is far freer with those than I ever could’ve dreamed of before.

  “Hey.” He grabs my shoulders, looking closely at me. “What is it, miracle?”

  The nickname whispers over my skin, the same way it did when he proposed to me. He’s been calling me his perfect miracle ever since, and each time it sends more and more contentment glimmering through me.

  “I have some news,” I whisper, reaching up and stroking my hand along his face.

  His eyes widen for a beat. His cheeks quiver as though he’s holding back a roar – like Tanker in his dreams. “Tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I cry, unable to withhold the emotion bubbling up inside of me. “I found out this morning. I’ve done three tests, just to be sure. All three were positive. Roman, we’re going to have a baby.”

  He lets out a shivering breath and then squeezes me against him, hugging me so tight it’s like he’s trying to transmit emotion directly from his heart to mine.

  I reach up and grip onto his back, closing my eyes and letting my cheek rest against his drumming heartbeat.

  “Does this mean you’re happy?” I giggle.

  “Happy doesn’t even come close,” he says passionately. “All my life I was searching for you, Rayla, and now we’re going to have a family together. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

&n
bsp; “I’m the luckiest woman.” I lean back in his embrace, confident he’ll catch me. He’ll always catch me. “And I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he growls, voice deep, and then he smooths his hand down my body, to my belly.

  He leans down and lays a tender kiss against the fabric of my dress.

  “And you, little man or lady. I love you too.”

  I place my hand on his head, staring down at him, as love flows endlessly through me.

  Extended Epilogue

  Over One Year Later

  Roman

  The sound of the applauding crowd is quieter up here, in the private booth, but no less magical and life-affirming as it echoes around the theater.

  I hold little Liam in my arms, close to my chest, peering over his head as I look down at the stage. I chose this booth specifically for how much quieter it is than the rest of the theater – to protect little Liam’s ears – but the view is a welcome advantage.

  Rayla stands at the front of the group of actors, taking a short bow, filling my whole body – my whole being – with starlight and love like I never could’ve felt before I met my woman.

  It’s the first performance of the play she was working on when we met. Well, the play she said she was working on.

  It turned out it was all still in the ideas stage, but as the pregnancy wore on, amidst college and wedding planning and the craziness of our wonderful new lives, my special miracle somehow found a way.

  I was so proud of her when she rushed into my office, the finished play in her hand, waving it around like a prize.

  Reaching down, I softly take Liam’s hand and clasp it against the other. He murmurs in his sleep. I kiss him tenderly on the forehead and then reach down and tickle Tanker behind the ear, letting him know I haven’t forgotten him.

  “What do you think, guys?” I whisper. “Shall we go wait for Mommy?”

  I head out to the parking lot, walking to the very rear where I’ve parked my sedan. Tanker hops up into the passenger seat and then I drop into the driver’s seat, handling Liam carefully. It took me a month of being a father before I believed Rayla when she told me I wouldn’t hurt him.