Glancing at the clock on the wall, I decided five minutes was plenty of time for a little preview.
Epilogue
Sienna
Flowers, candles, romance, rings, heels, and fucking... it all became a tradition for Owen and me. It was how we celebrated our official engagement, our wedding, the birth of our baby girl—although we had to wait six weeks for the fucking part—and now our first anniversary.
We were cuddled together on a bench seat in a little French bistro that was owned by one of his chef friends. We’d been seated at a table in the corner with plenty of privacy. Ours was the only one with a huge bouquet of soft pink Sophie roses as a centerpiece, and I knew Owen had gotten them for me because they were one of my favorites. All the tables had candles, but I was still going to give him credit for it since he’d definitely nailed the romantic mood.
“You can’t keep buying me rings for every occasion. I’ll never be able to wear them all.”
“Sure I can, baby. You keep wearing those heels and letting me fuck you in them when we get home”— he slid his hand down my leg and squeezed—“and I’m going to keep finding rings to slide on your finger.”
“I’m going to run out of fingers to use!”
I felt the loss of his warmth when he lifted his hand from my leg, but not for long since he dropped it onto my belly. “If this one’s a little girl, too, then we’ll have another set of fingers on a daughter who will eventually grow up and want to wear her mommy’s rings—just like Ciara will.”
My heart melted at how his voice softened when he talked about our six-month-old baby girl and the pregnancy we’d just confirmed with a test that very morning. My super sexy husband had turned into an even sexier baby daddy. I’d just about ruined my panties when he’d told me he wanted to get a full sleeve tattoo, and then swooned when he showed me a design that incorporated me and Ciara into it. He waited until I’d recovered from her delivery and then took me with him to the tattoo parlor while he had it started. The artist finished a big section of the artwork, from his shoulder to his elbow, with an intricate design in black ink.
I’d been ready to combust, sitting there and watching him have it done. We hadn’t even made it back home before Owen had pulled over onto a secluded road so we could rip each other’s clothes off and steam up the car’s windows. It hadn’t mattered how many times we’d had sex the night before—which was a lot since I’d finally gotten the doctor’s all clear that morning—we couldn’t wait the extra ten minutes before we got home.
“If you don’t stop being so damn romantic, we’re going to have a repeat from tattoo night on the way home,” I warned him.
“And that’s supposed to make me stop? Or give me an incentive to ratchet it up a few notches?” His green eyes twinkled naughtily, and he winked at me. “Because that night was hot as hell. It definitely isn’t going to dissuade me when I’d like nothing more than a repeat of it.”
“Stop,” I chided, feeling my panties grow damp. “You can’t talk like that here. You know how horny I get when I’m pregnant.”
“Fuck, yeah I do. It makes me want to keep you knocked up even more than I already planned on doing.”
“It’s a good thing I graduated a month before our wedding, or else I’d have to keep my legs shut around you, force a condom on your dick any time it came near me, or start taking birth control pills. If I didn’t already have my degree—”
“But you do, baby. I waited patiently for you to finish it before I slid that wedding band on your finger.”
“Patient?” Throaty laughter burst out of my mouth at his description. “Telling me you’d give me one month past my graduation to put together an entire wedding is the furthest thing from patient.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t toss you over my shoulder in L.A. and march us straight to the courthouse.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I am lucky.”
We both knew I wasn’t talking about our wedding anymore. I was talking about him, and the life we were building together.
“No, baby. I’ve been thanking my good luck since the moment I saw you sitting in my office.”
He bent low and captured my lips in a passionate kiss. When he lifted his head again, I gripped the back of it and whispered in his ear, “And we’re both going to get even luckier on the ride home tonight.”
Keep reading for a limited time bonus book, My Father’s Best Friend!
My Father’s Best Friend
When Ethan Parker’s investigation leads him to Delilah Brooks, he hopes he’s finally found his best friend’s long-lost daughter. What he wasn’t expecting was to want her for himself—with an intensity that drives him to get her pregnant before her father finds out about the two of them.
Delilah falls hard and fast for Ethan. But she isn’t sure what to think when he confesses his connection to the father she’s never met. Or how her father is going to react when he learns she’s having his best friend’s baby.
Prologue
Bonnie
I stared down at the cashier’s check, the white paper stark against the gleaming dark wood of the desktop. I could barely process what was happening. Holy cow. Apparently, getting rid of me was worth a whole lot of zeros. Despite my shock, anger rose to the surface and I glared at the stuffy man in the immaculately pressed suit sitting in front of me.
“I don’t know what makes you think I can be bought,” I said defensively. “But, I’m not with Sam for his money. We’re getting married, becoming a family, and raising our baby together.”
He laughed and shook his head, then smiled at me sympathetically. “Everyone has a price, Ms. Hart. Samuel isn’t the type to ever settle down. Much less at twenty-two. Do you think you’re the first woman who showed up claiming to be pregnant and demanding marriage?”
I gasped and recoiled in my chair. “I never once brought up marriage, it was Sam’s idea. He loves me.” Even I could hear the note of uncertainty in my voice. Sam had a reputation as a ladies’ man, but he’d settled down when he met me. We were in a committed, monogamous relationship. Weren’t we?
Sam was the most affectionate, loving man I’d ever known. He made me feel like I was the center of his universe. He was certainly the epicenter of mine. The last few months had been a dream and I clung to it desperately.
“Ms. Hart, I’m doing you a favor here. I have no doubt Samuel will marry you and stay married just long enough to be able to easily gain custody of your child when he eventually files for divorce.” He paused and pushed the check a little further towards me. “Take the money, go somewhere he won’t find you, raise your baby in peace.” His voice was gentle but I wasn’t fooled, the snake was poised, ready to strike any moment. “I’ll even help you change your identity so that he won’t ever be a threat to your daughter.”
At my continued hesitation, he sighed and pulled out a sheaf of papers, laying them on top of the check. “This is the prenuptial agreement he had drawn up. I can only imagine that he assumed you wouldn’t read it thoroughly.”
With shaking hands, I grasped the stack and lifted it to scan the contents. Pieces of my heart chipped away with every turn of a page. Until I reached the section that broke it altogether. It was buried in legal jargon, but I was smart enough to recognize the basic points. In the case of divorce, I had to prove my ability to provide for my child, in equal measure, what could be provided from her father. Otherwise, custody would default to the paternal parent.
I would receive a tiny settlement, but it wasn’t even in the stratosphere of what I would need to fight for my baby. There was more, but I couldn’t continue reading through my tears. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no way I was going to sign this document. I took a deep breath and calmly tore the packet down the center before flinging it on the desk.
Jumping to my feet, I threw my shoulders back, gathered my coat and purse, and snatched the check. Carefully, I smoothed over my face, leaving no expression. It was easy since I had no feelings to express, my heart
had turned to stone.
“I’ll handle the details. I certainly don’t want anything more from you, or anyone associated with Samuel Wentworth.” Spinning on my heel, I marched out of the office and into the pouring rain. I stood for a moment, letting it cleanse me, while my hand rested tenderly on my belly. We’ll make a fresh start, baby. Just you and me.
Chapter 1
Ethan
Bonnie Hart (Hanna Brooks), age thirty-eight, passed away on June 3rd at the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York. At age twenty-five, she received her degree as an RN and spent her life caring for others, even after she was forced to stop working due to her cancer. She was a loving mother and loyal friend. Bonnie is survived by her daughter, Delilah Brooks.
Services will be held…
I read the obituary twice more before reclining in my desk chair. My head fell back and I stared at the white ceiling, contemplating my next steps.
It was about fucking time.
I’d been waiting ten years for this, for the moment when the name Bonnie Hart was flagged on my system. Obviously, I didn’t expect her to be the only woman with that name, but this time, things lined up. The ages matched. The picture printed with the obituary resembled the picture Samuel had given me the day he hired me to continue his search for her.
Even the fact that her daughter didn’t share her name fit the circumstances, since it was likely she changed her name before the baby was born. But. . . Delilah. It was Samuel’s mother’s name.
Bonnie had disappeared without a trace, her cold trail leaving me no clues. I’d basically had nothing to go on when I started my search for the love of my best friend’s life. I questioned why she was being buried under her real name for half a second, then decided to forget it and take the win.
Samuel and I had grown close over the years—eventually becoming best friends—and I’d watched his hope die bit by bit until there was nothing left. He became convinced that she hadn’t loved him after all. But, I’d seen the photos of them together, heard the stories he’d shared about her. It sounded to me like Bonnie and Samuel had walked right off the set of a sappy, romantic, chick-flick.
I didn’t think she just simply up and left. Samuel was a hard man to fool. I found it hard to believe he’d been so wrong about the woman who’d stolen his heart. I couldn’t give up completely. Something went wrong, and I was determined to find out what.
In all these years, this was the first time I felt that niggling sensation I get when I’m grasping at just the right straw. I needed to get to New York.
I stood back, away from the graveside and shadowed by a crop of trees. Waiting.
Even though I’d never met Bonnie, I knew the girl was her daughter. Her long, silvery-blonde hair was pulled back from her stunning face in a low ponytail that hung down to her waist. She wore a black wrap dress that showed off a pair of gorgeous legs and clung to her curves, causing my eyes to linger on them for far too long. I imagined my hands running over those soft hills and valleys, those legs wrapped around my waist as I drove deep inside her.
Whoa! Shut that shit down right now, Parker.
I shook my head to dispel the daydream. She was barely fucking legal, having only turned eighteen three days before her mother died. Not to mention the mental sucker punch I gave myself for forgetting that she was my best friend’s daughter. For fuck’s sake, I was almost twice her age. Seventeen fucking years older than her, Parker.
Samuel had only just inherited his father’s investment firm when he met Bonnie. After she left, it took him years to realize how badly their security team had dropped the ball on the search for Bonnie. He’d wanted someone to give it another go. A mutual friend steered him in my direction.
It didn’t take long for us to develop a friendship. We had similar backgrounds, both of us trust fund babies who grew up to be irresponsible playboys. I’d gotten myself into all kinds of shit, and I’m positive there were times my parents despaired that I would even reach the age of twenty-one. My juvenile record was quite colorful. From what he told me, his wasn’t far off from mine.
We’d both attended Harvard, though five years apart. His wild reputation practically made him a legend. However, he’d cleaned up his life after meeting Bonnie, going on to graduate and keep his family’s company successful. It took me a little longer to get my college career on track. My parents died my freshman year and I’d gone a little off the rails. Partying, drinking to excess, and never fucking the same woman twice.
Maturity crept in there somewhere though and I managed to graduate, a stipulation for accessing the rest of my inheritance. I took the money and opened Parker Security and Investigations. I left behind most of my vices, but I still never found myself sticking with a woman more than one night.
I hadn’t looked too deeply into the reasons behind my lack of commitment, and it was actually Samuel’s determination to find Bonnie—eight years after losing her—that was my wake up call. Though, the lesson learned could have easily been not to give your heart, I ended up learning something else. I wanted what they’d had, with a different final outcome, of course.
Samuel remained alone until a year ago when he met his fiancée, Lola. After I realized what I wanted, I’d dated for a few years, but no one ever kept my interest. I hadn’t even bothered in quite some time. Some time, meaning at least six years. This is what I blamed my runaway thoughts and suddenly hard cock on.
The crowd eventually thinned and Delilah stood alone, head bent, hands clasped tightly in front of her. I gave her a few moments alone, then began to slowly make my way towards her.
I made sure to announce my presence by deliberately stepping on a few twigs. Her head lifted as I neared and my heart ached at the sight of watery pain in her blue eyes. They widened a little as she surveyed me. I wasn’t a small guy and in my black, tailored suit, I knew I looked intimidating.
Stopping a few feet away, I softened my expression and murmured, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her had canting slightly. She looked up at the cloudy summer sky and blinked back her tears. After a moment, her gaze returned to mine and she smiled softly, a dimple popping in her let cheek. “How did you know my mother, Mr…?” she trailed off, looking at me expectantly.
I hesitated, suddenly unsure about the lie I’d prepared. Being dishonest with her didn’t sit well, but until I could confirm her identity one hundred percent, I wasn’t ready to lay everything out in the open. So, I decided on a half-truth.
“Parker,” I informed her, holding out my hand. “Ethan Parker.” Her skin was soft as we shook, and I had to stifle the urges to lift her hand to my lips and test the silkiness against them. Instead, I pulled away. “I didn’t really know her. I was in town and came at the request of a friend to pay their respects. I’m told your mother touched a lot of lives.”
Delilah’s smile grew and she nodded. “She was pretty amazing.” A horn honked and drew her attention to a black Town Car idling nearby. She waved before turning back to me. “I’d better go. Will I see you at the luncheon?”
I shook my head and took a step back, a little overwhelmed by the jealousy swamping me. Who was in the car? A boyfriend? Fuck. What was the matter with me? I needed to get the hell out of there. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it.” Disappointment flashed across her face, almost making me smile. In the few minutes I’d been talking to her, she’d telegraphed her every emotion, she was an open book and I found that I liked it. A lot. “It was nice meeting you, Delilah Brooks.”
“Lilah,” she corrected sweetly. “You can call me Lilah. And, I’m glad we met too.” With one last smile in my direction, she turned and hurried over to the waiting vehicle.
I watched until her womanly body disappeared inside, and then headed back to my own car. My plan was to give her a few days, get some distance from the funeral, before approaching her again. It was clear from my body’s reaction to Lilah that I needed to take the time to get my head on str
aight. To shake off this attraction.
The last complication in the world I needed right then was to fuck my best friend’s daughter.
Chapter 2
Delilah
The apartment was silent. Still. Empty. Just an hour ago, it had been filled with all the people whose lives my mom had touched. They’d come to the funeral in droves to pay their respects. Many had stopped at our place afterwards, bringing casseroles and soups. Pastas and salads. Desserts and more desserts. More food than we needed for the luncheon. So many dishes that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to squeeze the leftovers into the fridge and freezer.
A couple of the nurses who’d worked with my mom had offered to stay and help with the clean-up, but I’d wanted to be alone. Or at least I thought I did. The home I’d shared with my mom had always been my safe haven growing up, filled with her love. Even after we moved to the city so she could start her cancer treatments, she’d made our modest, two-bedroom apartment seem like a cozy home in the country. Only it wasn’t the same anymore. She was gone forever, and when everyone else left, the silence became deafening. It made me second-guess my decision.
A loud knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts, giving me something else to focus on besides my loss. I smoothed a hand down my dress, tugging at the front to make sure my boobs were fully covered by the material, and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear as I made my way to the front of my home. Our apartment had a separate entrance from the rest of the building, exiting straight out to the sidewalk. A quick glance through the peephole had butterflies swirling in my belly as I recognized the man standing on my porch.
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