His Daughter’s Best Friend Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
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He waited.

“You can’t tell her I told you, but Halley has a secret she keeps from you, too.”

“I don’t want to hear about my daughter’s love life, Lily,” he said warningly.

“No. It’s about her career. She wants to be an actress, and she’s terrified to tell you. Just like you’re afraid to tell her about me.”

Con stared at me. “Halley wants to be an actress?”

I nodded. “It’s all she’s ever wanted to do. She said you told her she had to go to college, no matter what. She was afraid if she tried to go in LA, the temptation to join the industry would be too much. But once she graduates, that’s her plan.”

Con shook his head, his mouth thinning. “I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do about it. She went to college like I asked.”

“Do you think there’s any scenario in which you tell her about me, and she doesn’t like it but accepts it?”

Neither of us could answer that question, so we pushed it away. It felt too good to be together again to let anything ruin it. We fell back into our old pattern of spending every minute together that we could and acting like polite near strangers at work. We still had sex every chance we got and ordered food from all over the city, but things were deepening between us, too. He even opened up about what was going on with Halley’s mother.

“You gave her a million dollars to sign an NDA?” I gasped.

“I’d give her twice that to go the fuck away,” Con said grimly, “but she cares about Halley just enough not to take it.”

I’d met Kim a few times. She was beautiful and terrible. Halley couldn’t see it, but I did. She loved Halley like her daughter was a commodity. A designer purse. A luxury vacation. I shivered with anger, thinking about how casually she was willing to hurt Halley. No wonder Con went to such lengths to protect her.

“At least she signed it,” I said. “And once Halley graduates, she’s out of your life, right?”

“She’s out of my wallet anyway, and that’s all I care about.”

Though Con didn’t show a flicker of emotion, I felt wild, defensive anger on his behalf. I kissed him gently and loved him more tenderly than ever before. I wanted to protect him from things that had already happened. Kim. This city. Himself.

At night, when he fell asleep, I whispered what he wasn’t ready to hear when he was awake. I love you. His slow, steady breathing never changed.

Early one Tuesday morning, I woke up with my mouth watering. It wasn’t from hunger. My stomach was roiling, and I could already feel vomit climbing up my esophagus. I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up. Then I sagged against the porcelain toilet.

“Oh, don’t,” I moaned when Con appeared in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep, the lower half of his face shadowed with stubble. Looking way too good to see me looking my worst.

Ignoring my protestations, he crossed the tile to the sink and wet a washcloth. Squatting down beside me, he pressed it to my forehead. The cool water sank into my hairline, drip dropped down my cheeks, but it made me feel better. No less embarrassed, but better.

“Do you think it was the fish?” he asked with a frown.

I shrugged weakly. “Maybe, but we had the same thing.”

When I was sure I wasn’t going to throw up again, he helped me back to bed. “I’ll tell Angie you called out sick,” he said, pulling the covers up around me. “Stay home today. Feel better.”

Home. I wondered if he had any idea how many directions that one word sent my mind spinning off into. I’d barely been back to Halley’s condo in the last few weeks, but I was still careful not to call the penthouse home. The idea of it made me feel warm inside though. Coming home to Con at the end of every day.

While he showered and got ready for work, I curled up with the idea. Built it up. Luxuriated in the fantasy of it. By the time he was ready to go, the nausea that had sunk into my guts like a fishhook and dragged me to the toilet was a distant memory.

“I feel like I could go to work,” I said. “I’ll just be a little late.”

Con leaned over the bed, pushing me back gently against the pillows. “Take a day, Lily. I have happy hour after work with the guys, but I’ll leave early.”

After he left, I padded happily around the penthouse wearing the t-shirt he’d slept in. It smelled like him and was so big on me it was like a sleep shirt. After I ate and was sure the nausea wasn’t going to make a triumphant return, I called my mom. I hadn’t talked to her in a while.



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