Texting My Dad’s Best Friend Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
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I trail off, realizing I may have gone too far, my passion getting the better of me.

“So maybe you can tell me,” I say. “Is that love?”

Max is staring at me, eyes narrowed. “Don’t hold back, Damien. Honesty. That’s all I want.”

“Then I love her,” I growl firmly. “I loved her the second I laid eyes on her, in that photo, before I knew who she was. I loved her since the first text we exchanged. I’m so, so sorry, Max. If I knew she felt the same when this started, I would’ve told you immediately. But I didn’t want to risk scaring her away. Which is funny, in a sick way, because scaring her away is exactly what I should’ve done.”

“And go back to being alone?” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want that for you, Damien.”

“What are you saying?”

He pushes away from the railing, laughing shakily. “I guess I’m saying the world is one strange place. Lacey tells me Danielle feels the same. She wants everything you want. It doesn’t seem like a phase, or infatuation. It seems real. She’s talking about her future, about pursuing marketing while having a family. She is a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions.”

I wait, sensing he has more to say, not wanting to interrupt.

“The way I see it, I could dig my heels in here and make life miserable for everybody. Maybe you and Danielle would break up just to make me happy. But the truth is, that wouldn’t make me happy. Because it would make you and her miserable, and I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

He steps forward, looking me in the eye.

“You have to promise this is real. You’re not going to get bored of her in a couple of years. You’re not going to break her heart.”

The idea of doing either almost makes me laugh.

But this is too serious for that.

Still, getting bored of Danielle, breaking her heart?

“I’d die before I broke her heart, Max,” I tell him firmly. “And I’m not going to get bored of her. Ever.”

Max nods, reaching forward and clapping me on the shoulder. I open my arms and hug him instead.

He laughs as he claps me on the back.

“Since when did you get so soppy?”

“I’m just glad you don’t hate me, man,” I tell him, clapping him on the back in return.

“I could never hate you,” he says, stepping back. “I just want the best…for you and for Danielle. From where I’m standing, it seems clear that being together is the right thing for both of you. I just hope this is real.”

“You’ll see,” I tell him. “In a few years, we’ll be at a party, cookout, or something. Your grandkids will be there. Everybody will be laughing and happy. And you’ll look over at Danielle and me, and see how much in love we are, still are, and always will be. In love, Max.”

I’m going too far again, but I can’t help it.

“In that case,” Max says, “I think there’s probably one more thing you want to ask me, isn’t there?”

It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s hinting at.

Then it hits me.

His blessing.

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “There is.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Danielle

I’m almost there. Sorry about this. XXXX

In the doorway, I stand outside Damien’s restaurant, looking down at my phone.

It’s been a day since he and Dad had their talk.

I’m not sure exactly what they said to each other, except that now Dad has given us his blessing. I can tell he still finds it a little awkward – it’s going to take some getting used to – but our lives haven’t blown up in our faces.

It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting. XXXX

That’s not exactly true. I’m aching to see him again, adrenaline, lust, and affection all hammering through me.

This city and its damn traffic. I didn’t want to be late today.

Stop stressing. It’s ten minutes.

I need to stop texting. I’m wasting time sitting by the side of the road. I just wanted you to know I won’t be long.

See you soon. XXXX

I almost type love you at the end.

There have been so many moments during the past few days where I’ve almost said it, feeling like it’s the right time, but then pulled back at the very last moment.

Leaning against the door, I think about all the work still left to be done in the restaurant.

But things are going well, and the booking system was flooded when we took it live a couple of days ago.

My bosses are impressed with how I’m helping Damien’s business too.

I open my notes on my phone and spend some time going through them.

I’m not sure how much time passes – maybe a few minutes – until a man walks over to me.

“Danielle Jones?” he says.

I lower my phone, looking at him. He’s a little taller than me, wide-shouldered, with a messy mop of black hair and a scraggly black beard. There’s something vaguely familiar about his eyes, and then it hits me as memories swarm into me.



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