Table of Contents
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Greek God
Jackie
Nick
Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
GREEK GOD
A SINGLE DAD, OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 34
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Greek God
1. Jackie
2. Nick
3. Jackie
4. Jackie
5. Nick
6. Nick
7. Jackie
8. Jackie
9. Jackie
10. Nick
11. Jackie
12. Jackie
13. Nick
14. Nick
Epilogue. Jackie
Extended Epilogue. Jackie
Extended Epilogue. Nick
Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2017 by Flora Ferrari.
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
Book 1: Baby Lust
Book 2: Veteran
Book 3: Built
Book 4: Bambino
Book 5: Rescued
Book 6: Leader
Book 7: Professor
Book 8: Burned
Book 9: Worldly
Book 10: Pistol
Book 11: Policed
Book 12: Driven
Book 13: Lucky 13
Book 14: Lumberjacked
Book 15: Protector
Book 16: Carpenter
Book 17: Italian Stallion
Book 18: Gardener
Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 21: Cocky CFO
Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
Book 23: Mechanic
Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
Book 32: Statham
Book 33: Bodyguard
Book 34: Greek God
Book 35: Cunning Linguist
Book 36: Mountain Man
Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
GREEK GOD
After a bad break-up over the holidays I head to Greece to get away from it all.
Once I step off the plane I realize it really is all Greek to me.
Especially him.
Who’s that Greek God who's an absolute Adonis? He’s staring at me like he wants to cover me in tzatziki sauce and lick off every square inch.
And who’s that little goddess who’s holding onto his pinky finger?
Like an oracle, he sees I’m lost and extends an olive branch.
And immediately this mythical man and his daughter have me philosophizing if this could turn into something much bigger.
Like his chest muscles that look like they’re sculpted from marble…or those big blue eyes of his that are as clear as the Aegean Sea…or that bulge in his pants that’s sticking out like Mount Olympus.
This Spartan single dad has me in unorthodox positions, tossing me around like a Greek salad as I turn into a nympho for him.
But now it’s time to go home and my head is spinning like the windmills on Mykonos. Will this odyssey end up like so many Greek tragedies…or will I become the Aphrodite to this Adonis with our very own big, fat Greek wedding?
*Greek God is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
CHAPTER 1
Jackie
“I have something very exciting to say to you on New Year’s Eve,” he said.
“It’s going to change our lives forever. Can you meet me at the base of the Space Needle at 8 p.m.?”
Of course I accepted. I even went out and bought a new dress, heels and expensive lipstick. It was our four year anniversary after all. I was expecting a proposal. Who wouldn’t be?
I got an Uber from Horse Heaven, Washington where I live all the way to Seattle. He could have offered to pick me up but as he’s noted before, ‘It’s kinda far from Tacoma.’ That should have been my first hint. That and that he teased me relentlessly about living in a town with a population that was less than our elevation. Nine hundred and four people versus eleven hundred eighty-eight feet to be exact. Our one claim to fame was being the community with the highest percentage of Greek born residents in the whole United States.
I waited over an hour for him in the freezing cold at the base of the Space Needle. I stood there with my wheeled luggage which I packed with everything I’d need for a spontaneous romantic weekend in the city to celebrate our proposal.
“Sorry. Traffic,” he said. Like I wasn’t coming from a considerably farther distance and had to pay an Uber for it.
And then we didn’t even go up! Nope. He took me to a Starbucks close by to say the ‘exciting’ things he had promised. And he didn’t even help me with my luggage.
A Starbucks in Seattle in the rain. Yes, it started raining. Not quite cold enough for snow, for some strange reason, although the ground was covered with about a foot of it.
‘So. We’ve been together a long time,’ he started.
I let all the problems of the day roll off my back and just prepared myself for biggest moment of my life up until this point.
‘And I’ve enjoyed every second of it.’
And you’re ready to turn these seconds into hours, years, children, and grandchildren after you get down on your knee and ask me to marry you? In a Starbucks no less? The worst part is I would have said yes.
But that wasn’t what he had to say at all. Nope! He got a job offer at some tech company in San Francisco and he realized this was his true calling in life… and that he’d been seeing someone down there for the last few years. What? And to add insult to injury he just had to tell me her name was Kyle. Wait…Kyle? That’s sounds like a guy’s name.
Because it is. He’d turned gay two years ago without telling me. Or at least he was still ‘figuring it out’ back then. Well now he’s sure and he’s free and aren’t I so excited for him?
Uhhh…no!
I mean that’s great and all that he found his soul mate or whatever, but why did he drag me along for the last two years? I turned down internships in New York and Boston, a holiday in Whistler that I would be on this very moment, and basically everything else that didn’t pertain to him and our relationship. At least I thought we had a relationship. How wrong I was.
And to add insult to injury, again, he told me I was boring. He said that I’m too conservative and never take any risks. Well getting involved with him most certainly was a risk, wasn’t it? And look where that got me.
I grab my luggage and storm out of the Starbucks never wantin
g to see him, or another man, as long as I live.
Jerk!
Well, my entire family is in Whistler. I’ve got two choices. I can find a way to get up there and admit that I was wrong…he didn’t propose, or two…I can go back to Horse Heaven and spend New Year’s Eve watching reruns and eating popcorn until my own stomach pops.
No and no.
I go into McDonalds and order a cherry pie. I need time to think and for ninety-nine cents and a chance to get out of the cold I’ll take what I can get.
The cherry pie is scorching hot as they always are. This thing’s going to need at least fifteen minutes to cool. I whip out my phone and look up flights to Whistler on kayak.com.
A text comes in.
Where are you?
It’s my best friend Emily.
At the McDonalds in Seattle
I hit enter.
I wait for the results for the flight to load. Wow, it’s expensive!
I scroll up to see if they’re cheaper tomorrow. Wait a second? It’s showing me flights to…Athens. In Greece. What the heck?
How did that…oh wait! I open the window for my chat to Emily. I didn’t respond there. I started typing At the McDonalds in Seattle and I was on the wrong tab. Instead the booking site took the At the and somehow autocorrected it to ATH…the code for Athens.
Wow…Greece sure would be nice right now. I’ve always wanted to go, and it sounds way better than the cold of Canada.
I scroll back down to the flight information.
Delta flight 34 to Paris followed by Delta 8683 to Athens. The second flight is operated by Air France. I look at the times. Holy Toledo! If I hurry I can be having champagne on my flight out of Paris on New Year’s Day! Okay, it’s not New Year’s Eve, but it’s darn close.
Delta. Didn’t I open a credit card with them awhile back?
I dig through my purse and find it. It’s buried in some interior side pocket all the way down at the bottom with…a traffic ticket I forgot to pay? Great, just great.
When does it expire? Next month!
I immediately call Delta and get a friendly representative. I like how this is starting. The woman informs me I did indeed sign up during a promotional period and was awarded quite a few free frequent flyer miles, but I’m literally just one mile short of what I need to get to Greece…for free!
I look down at my ninety-nine cent cherry pie. It looks lonely.
“Let me call you right back,” I say.
I order an apple pie to keep the cherry pie company while I call Delta right back. I even get the same representative. She laughs.
“Looks like you’ve got enough now. When would you like to fly?”
“How about now?” I say.
“Now that’s what I call a New Year’s resolution!” she says. “You go girl!”
Not five minutes later I’m confirmed on the next flight. I have to hurry, but I’ve got one more thing to do first.
I text Emily back.
On my way to Greece. Happy New Year’s! xoxo
CHAPTER 2
Nick
“You want some yogurt with honey and walnuts, don’t you?” I say as I look down at Sophia.
She nods her head three times. She grabs onto my little finger and pulls on it before using it for balance as she spins around in a circle.
We had a great time in Paris visiting her grandparents but I’m glad to be home. Paris is beautiful but my heart is Greek. And apparently Sophia’s taste buds are too.
I stand at the baggage claiming keeping an eye out for my wheeled luggage and her Hello Kitty wheeled luggage for kids. We must be a sight when we walk together rolling our luggage through the airport.
She’s such a great kid. She never acts out and is always so well behaved. There’s really nothing more that I could wish for…except for her to have a mother, and me a wife.
But the world doesn’t work like that. We’re right in-between Christmases, the one most of the world celebrates on the twenty-fifth of December, and the one those of us that follow the Orthodox religion in which case we celebrate Christmas two weeks later than most of the world. Christmas is a time for giving, but the gift that I’ll have to wait another year for is a woman for the both of us. It’s not like I can just order one anyways. It takes time and chemistry to build that connection. I learned the hard way already. I rushed into things with Sophia’s mother. It was hot and heavy and then it flamed out like all fires do.
Her mother is off acting in Hollywood now, ‘too busy to be burdened with a family.’ I can’t believe I ever got involved with such a person and am glad she’s no longer in my life or my daughter’s. Goodbye and good riddance.
I watch as the bags come out onto the carousel. Still nothing for the Samaras family. Samaras literally means saddle maker, and I’m ready to saddle up and get on home.
I see a pink bag on the other side of the carousel that looks like it could be Sophia’s. I focus on it more closely, following it’s path, and quickly realize it’s not Hello Kitty. It’s My Little Pony. I laugh at myself that I even know such things.
But my laughing stops immediately when my eyes rise up from the bag and see the young woman standing just behind it. The carousel keeps spinning, but my eyes don’t. My stomach is another matter.
I feel a tightness in my gut and my temperature rise.
Who is that?
She’s got on a winter jacket and she’s looking at a map. It looks like the kind they sell in duty free, but I can clearly see from here that it’s in Greek. She’s certainly not Greek. How do I know? She’s got the map upside down.
There’s something different about her. An innocence or a cute naivety that makes her very down to earth, and very attractive.
Is this her first time traveling? Is she completely lost? Who is she?
I’ve got so many questions and only she has the answers.
“Dad. There’s our stuff,” Sophia says pointing furiously towards the carousel.
It’s just come out and has to make almost a complete loop around to get to us. I calculate the conveyor speed and look back at that girl who’s caught my attention…and then some.
“Let’s go grab it,” I say to Sophia.
I take off around the carousel towards the girl. Sophia’s still hooked to my right hand like it’s some sort of metal bar at the jungle gym.
I time my steps so I arrive in front of the girl at the same time as our luggage.
I lean forward and grab Sophia’s luggage and quickly sit it beside me. I lean forward again and grab the handle to my luggage, but suddenly I feel a small hand on top of mine.
The touch of the woman sends a warm pulse straight up my arm and I feel myself getting aroused immediately. What the heck? That never happens.
I grab the handle tighter and the smaller hand tightens on top of mine. I rotate my body to remove the luggage and to see who’s trying to play patty cake with me. I know it’s not Sophia.
“That’s my bag!” she says. It’s the girl I was checking out. Is she flirting with me?
“I’m afraid this one is mine,” I say.
“Black Samsonite with a dent on the side. It’s definitely mine.”
“I also have a black Samsonite with a dent on the side,” I say. I notice the girl still hasn’t removed her hand from on top of mine and my arousal is only getting stronger…and more visible.
“Is everything okay over here?” one of the airport agents asks.
“This is my luggage and he’s trying to take it.” the girl says.
“It’s my luggage,” I say. “It even came out right next to my daughters.”
“Have either of you tried opening it?” the agent says.
I’m not about to argue with a woman, either woman for that matter. “Please, be my guest,” I say.
“Maybe it’s better if you try first sir. It was next to your items,” the agent says. I’m happy to let the girl try first. Ladies first after all, but the agent has other ideas. She suddenly thinks this
is an episode of Cops and I’m just waiting for her to whip out a Taser.
“Certainly,” I say.
I flip the bag over and enter my code. 7-7-7. I feel the lock unlatch and I look up at the girl. I’m still not sure how to react because I’m still very interested in this feisty young lady. Maybe this is some new way of flirting that the kids are doing these days and I’m just not aware of it.
“Just a bunch of souvenirs,” I say as I fold back the top half of the luggage only to see a pair of sexy red lingerie, a bottle of perfume and some candles.
My jaw hits the floor and the girl’s face instantly turns as red as the panties which are now draped across my forearm.
Greek God Page 1