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    My Fiance's Dad: A Forbidden Romance
    My Fiance's Dad: A Forbidden Romance
    My Fiance's Dad: A Forbidden Romance
    Ebook189 pages2 hoursForbidden Fantasies

    My Fiance's Dad: A Forbidden Romance

    By S.E. Law

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    • Self-Discovery

    • Relationships

    • Family

    • Attraction

    • Trust

    • Forbidden Love

    • Love Triangle

    • Secret Relationship

    • Billionaire Romance

    • Friends to Lovers

    • Age Difference

    • Age Gap

    • Surprise Pregnancy

    • Alpha Males

    About this ebook

    Cora knows she’s lucky to be engaged to the handsome Marky Harrison, a former high school football player. As a curvy girl, she knows her place in life and landing a man like Marky is sheer good fortune. But when her fiancé blows up their engagement, Cora retreats to a cabin to cry and rage.


    Matt Harrison has been attracted to his son’s beautiful, sassy fiancée for a long time, but he was determined NOT to be that douchebag father-in-law. The alpha male tamped down on his attraction to Cora while his son was in the picture, but now that Marky’s gone, why not act on his deepest desires … even if it means giving Cora a baby?


    This is a taboo tale where a curvy girl meets the man of her dreams … who also happens to be her fiancé’s father. Forbidden? Check. Wrong? Check. Utterly sizzling, knock-your-socks-off-filthy, mouth-wateringly delicious? Check check. Click “Read” now! No cliffhangers, no cheating, and always a HEA for my readers.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherS.E. Law Romance Author
    Release dateJun 7, 2021
    My Fiance's Dad: A Forbidden Romance
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      Book preview

      My Fiance's Dad - S.E. Law

      1

      CORA

      Isit at my vanity table and stick yet another bobby pin into my long, unruly brown hair, determined to tame it, if only for the next few hours.

      I’m definitely hiring a professional hairstylist for the actual wedding, I muse as I stab myself for the fifth time in an hour.

      Ouch! I yell to my empty bedroom. I take a moment and sit back in my chair. Frustration will get you nowhere, Cora, I calmly tell myself.

      I take a few quick breaths and then resume my task. After several more minutes of wrangling, cursing, and dousing my wild mane with hairspray and more bobby pins, I sit back to take in my handiwork.

      It looks pretty good, I murmur to myself as I turn my head side to side, impressed with my own skill. It had been risky to forgo my usual ponytail and try out the deep side part weaved into an intricate French braid, but I feel… sophisticated.

      And even pretty.

      Well, a girl should feel pretty for her own engagement party, I declare out loud while I pull a few strands of hair out of the delicate braid to frame my face.

      I certainly don’t think I’m unattractive, but I sometimes have to remind myself that a lot of people, including my fiancé, find me to be pretty. I have deep, dark brown eyes and nice, full eyebrows. My eyelashes look longer thanks to hefty coats of mascara, and I have a smaller nose that some have described as cute.

      And tonight, I actually feel sexy. As a larger woman, it’s not a common feeling for me, so I decide that I’m going to hang on to that sensation throughout the entire night.

      I smile as I slip into my dress for the dinner. It’s snug, but the zipper doesn’t pinch, so I count the small victories. The fabric hugs my bust without being trashy, and the skirt stops right above my knee. It’s perfect for my engagement dinner.

      I slip on my black wedge heels and stand back to examine myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my closet door.

      Hair, tame. Dress, pretty. Cora? Happy.

      I shake my head at my nonsense. It’s a game I’ve played since I was a little girl. A checklist to make sure I feel confident and to let myself accept whatever emotion I might be feeling.

      Across the room, my cell phone hums and I know immediately from the ringtone that it’s my mom.

      Hey Mom, I greet.

      Hi sweetie. I just got to Frankie’s. The place looks lovely and they have the back room set up and ready for us.

      Great! Thanks again for going early so I could finish getting ready.

      Anything for you, sweetheart. Are you on your way?

      I will be, in just a few minutes. I also need to see if Marky wants me to pick him up or not.

      Okay, drive safe and text me when you’re on your way.

      Will do. I hang up the phone and laugh a little. I’m twenty-five years old but my mom still likes me to text her whenever I drive anywhere so she knows how long to wait before she should start to worry. I want to be annoyed, but I love how much my mom cares.

      Leaning against the bed, I call Marky to check in about carpool plans. I smile as I wait for my fiancé to answer, thinking about his pretty blue eyes and infectious laugh. The phone rings but then a beep sounds.

      "You’ve reached me, but I can’t pick up. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can," Marky’s voicemail greets me.

      Huh. Marky is usually pretty good about answering, but I shrug and head to bathroom to grab my perfume. He’s probably just rushing to get ready since he had to stay at work late.

      Marky is a junior architect, and he’s doing quite well for himself. He works for his dad, Matt Harrison. Matt founded Harrison Architects about twenty years ago and made quite a name for himself and his firm over the years. But the hours are long and it’s been frustrating because it seems that Marky has been working a lot recently, and often those hours run late into the night.

      I shouldn’t complain, I scold myself. I’m lucky to have someone like Marky, who is kind and generous and who works so hard for us.

      I smile. Marky is a real-life Prince Charming.

      From my spot on the bed, I look out the bedroom window and take in the beautiful yard so carefully tended by my mother and, beyond that, the magnificent Appalachian Mountains. From my third-floor view, I really do feel like a princess in a tower, surrounded as I am by trees, singing birds, and wearing this elegant dress.

      I rub my fingers along the deep blue velvet. It cost more than I wanted to pay, but Marky insisted that I wear something to our engagement dinner that would make me feel fabulous.

      I hope it’s not too fitted, I think self-consciously.

      I glance at the time. Oops, 6:15.

      Quickly, I cross the hallway to my bathroom and rummage around for my perfume.

      I can’t believe that Matt paid for the whole dinner tonight, I muse as I move around old nail polish and sample face washes in my search. That’s so generous of him, but I bet all he had to do was flash that smile and they gave him a major discount. He’s that good-looking. Quickly, I tamp down my thoughts. This is your future father-in-law! I scold myself. Don’t think these things.

      Blushing, I find my perfume and start applying it.

      Yeah, but Matt Harrison is total eye candy.

      I stop mid-spritz. Stop, Cora. Really, just stop.

      I shake my head.

      Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, physically at least. With piercing, bright blue eyes, jet-black hair, and bodies like lumberjacks, Matt Harrison and his son Marky look more like brothers instead of father and son, except that Marky is slightly shorter and smaller, giving the older Mr. Harrison a strapping, powerful vibe.

      Cora, stop! That’s your almost-father-in-law. What is wrong with you? I blush at my unbidden thoughts.

      It’s okay to think he’s attractive, I murmur to myself out loud. You’re just getting a glimpse of what Marky is going to look like in twenty years. I grin at the thought and finish spraying on my perfume.

      Then again, at twenty-five, Marky is hot. We went to high school together and while we didn’t really frequent the same circles back then – he was the typical jock while I lived in the library – all the girls knew that the star quarterback was the crush to have.

      And now he gets to be mine! I say to myself. So why aren’t I more happy? Then, I shoot a glance at the clock. Crap. 6:23. I’m officially going to be late to my own engagement party.

      With a final glance in the mirror, I dash downstairs, grab my keys and peacoat, and climb into my old hatchback. It’s not much, but this car has gotten me from point A to B since high school. Besides, buying a new car is out of the question until things pick up at the bookstore.

      My little store, Hearts and Heroes, specializes in promoting and selling romance novels, and I’ve put in a ton of hours to make it a thriving business. And my efforts have been paying off, if a little slowly. We get customers, but so far, most people are browsing instead of buying.

      It helps that just a few months ago, I moved in with my mom and dad to save money on rent and bills. It feels a little childish to live at home again at my age. But like the amazing parents they are, they were thrilled to have me, and honestly, I needed to cut corners any place I could to keep my new business afloat.

      Getting into the car, I pause. Like the obedient daughter that I am, I send my mom a quick message to let her know I’m headed to the party. Then, I rev the hatchback and pull out onto the street.

      It’s not a long drive from my parents’ house to Frankie’s, but it’s a pretty one. Our little town of Blue Mountain is starting to bud with early spring flowers that hang from nesting baskets on the light posts. Nestled as it is in the shadows of the Appalachian Mountains, our town gets a lot of tourists during hiking season and a lot of snow otherwise.

      But for now, it’s a warm evening and even in my sleeveless dress and light jacket, I’m cozy and excited at the promise of the approaching warmer months. The soft yellow and pink sunset only reinforces my good mood, and I take its sweetness as an omen for all the good things heading my way, starting with this little celebration tonight.

      I pull into Frankie’s and park my car. I’ve always felt slightly out of place at fancy restaurants, but this is my engagement dinner, I remind myself. It should be at a fancy place. I square my shoulders and climb out of the hatchback.

      Okay, big breath. Lots of people to greet.

      As I walk to the restaurant, the door flies open to reveal my mom, looking matronly in a light pink dress edged in lace.

      There’s my little bride to be!

      Hi Mom. You look so pretty! I go to her quickly and hug her tightly. How’s my dress? I’m afraid I look like a blue whale. I fiddle with the straps of the deep blue number, unsure how the fitted dress looks against my full curves.

      Sweetie, are you kidding? You look so beautiful. My mom’s eyes start to mist. And velvet? What a fun choice. She kisses me on the cheek and dabs at her eyes.

      Mom, don’t cry! I laugh at her sappiness.

      You’re just my baby is all and – she’s cut off mid-speech by the arrival of the first of my relatives.

      "Marcia, Cora, hi!" my great aunt screeches from across the parking lot while getting out of her luxury sedan.

      She’s eighty-five years old, so why on earth is she still driving? my mom mutters to me. Okay, Cora, brace yourself, she winks at me. Hi Aunt Sue, let me come help you.

      With my mom occupied, I slip inside the building to look for Marky and to see the room before it becomes packed with my guests.

      Miss Morrissey, the hostess greets me. We have your private event set up in the back. Please, right this way.

      I follow the hostess into the deeper recesses of the restaurant. Frankie’s is a place I’ve always wanted to try, but I was always either too young for its elegance or too broke to afford it. It’s the kind of establishment that screams decadence and fancy food, and I still can’t believe I get to have my engagement party here.

      Thank you, Matt Harrison.

      While at first, I had felt awkward about Marky’s dad paying for the dinner, now, staring at the elegantly decorated room made up just for my engagement party, I’m giddy.

      Several long, oak tables run the length of the room. At each table, wooden benches serve as the seating, padded with white cushions. Overhead, fairy lights drip from the ceiling, providing enough lighting to see but keeping an allure of mystery and romanticism about the room. In the middle of each table, short, squat vases are filled with peonies, each tied with twine and soft gold bows.

      Through the paned glass windows, the sunset is casting an almost rosy gold hue on the room. A fireplace crackles and delicate heaters make the room feel like a perfect spring night.

      I’m completely taken aback – the whole setup is like something out of a dream.

      Who on earth did all of this?

      Almost as if in response, Matt Harrison strolls into the room, looking extremely handsome in his fitted blue suit. He’s huge as always, and his black hair is damp and brushed off his high forehead. I melt a bit, but then try to control my reaction.

      Cora, hi. He greets me with a light hug and kiss on my cheek.

      Hi Mr. Harrison. He smells like the woods on a rainy day.

      He grins.

      Please, you need to start calling me Matt. We’re going to be family, after all. Matt gestures around the room. Well, what do you think?

      "Wait, you did all of this?"

      He smirks a bit.

      I did. Well, I asked the restaurant to decorate the place as befits an engagement dinner. It’s time for romance, after all, Matt says.

      I don’t know what to say. I love it. Gratefully, I put my hand on his strong shoulder. Thank you. It’s perfect.

      Matt looks at me intensely, as if he has more to say, his blue eyes flashing. My heart pounds and the air goes electric. But then, our moment is interrupted by the arrival of guests starting to pour into the room.

      How about I grab us each a drink? You might be needing it, Matt says when people start coming over. With that, he’s gone and all I see is a flash of his dark blue blazer in the crowd. Multiple people surround me, and I’m suddenly inundated with questions, comments, and compliments.

      Cora, you look stunning!

      Wow, look at the lights, how pretty.

      Good to see you sweetheart. Where’s the bar?

      Happy engagement!

      Where’s the groom?

      Did you see your aunt?

      Let’s see that ring!

      Any special seating?

      At some point in the chaotic meet and greet, Matt returns and slips an icy cold glass of champagne into my hand. I smile at him gratefully and just as quickly am pulled the other way by even more relatives bombarding me with questions.

      Finally, my best friend, Hadley, bounces into the room and hugs me tightly, nearly spilling my drink. "

      Hi, my lovely bride-to-be! It’s your maid of honor reporting for duty. Oh my gosh look at you! Oh my gosh, look at those flowers! Oh my gosh look at Matt Harrison! HOT! Ooooh, are those crab cakes? She grabs an hors d’oeuvre and stuffs it into her mouth.

      I laugh at Hadley’s enthusiasm. We’ve known each other since first grade and the bubbly, petite blonde is a constant source of entertainment.

      Hi Hads.

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