Father of the Bride: A Forbidden Romance

By S.E. Law

He’s dark, dominating, and two decades older than me. He’s also my friend’s dad and the father of the bride.

Carolyn:

My boyfriend embarrassed me at a wedding. The little man threw a fit and stormed out, creating a commotion that brought me to tears.

I was so embarrassed and wanted the Earth to swallow me whole. But a handsome older man steps in for the rescue. He gives me a kiss, which turns into two, then three, and soon …

… we’re enjoying each other right there at the reception!

But I don’t regret it because Preston Cahill is gorgeous. The billionaire’s got broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and a huge party favor that makes me gasp. Not only that, but he shows me how to set off this enormous firecracker …

… and soon, I’m melting with delicious sparkles all over.

But what happens when I get pregnant?

Will the father of the bride consent to being a daddy again?

Or is he over and done with his daddy days?

In this story, it’s a handsome older man who saves the sassy Carolyn from an incredibly embarrassing situation. Not only that, but he makes it better by showing her how to set off explosives against ALL the rules! But the problem is that once a firecracker goes off, you can’t put it back in the box and soon Carolyn’s pregnant and expecting the alpha male’s baby. What to do? Never fear, my dear readers, because there’s a bouncing baby, a happy dad, and a very satisfied curvy girl at the end. This book is a follow-up to Filthy Twin Mechanics, but all of my books are standalones and may be read in any order. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.E. Law Romance Author
• Release date: Jan 10, 2022

Book preview

1

Carolyn

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When I met Zora Cahill at knitting club, I never would have guessed that the girl who always uses beige yarn would want such an extravagant wedding. Clearly, I was wrong because inside, Zora must be bursting with rainbow colors.

After all, this event is out of this world. We haven’t even stepped into the ballroom yet, but the hallway of the hotel has been adorned with trellises dripping with vines, a huge decorative sunburst display made of dandelions and blood-red tulips, as well as a veritable feast of seafood, cheese, and tasty snacks for guests to enjoy as we wait. It must have cost a fortune, and yet instead of being overwhelmed, my boyfriend Corey looks put out.

We’ve been here forever, he whines while tapping his foot. His chestnut hair is swept back and he looks handsome in a blue suit, but it’s not just about looks anymore. Corey’s attitude gets to me, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes, something I’ve found myself doing more and more lately.

That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? I ask, careful to keep my tone neutral. We’ve only been waiting for five minutes.

He crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Yeah, but I’m starving! I want to eat.

I look around the room pointedly as waiters circle with silver trays.

There are lots of hors d’oeuvres. You like stuffed mushrooms, don’t you? Have one of those. Or look! Lobster, mmmm. That’s bound to be delicious.

Corey just looks more put out.

Yeah, but it’s not a meal, Carolyn. We were at the ceremony forever and I want real food. I can’t just survive on lobster and stuffed mushrooms. Please.

I try not to roll my eyes again because he sounds like a spoiled child prince from a fairy tale. Instead, I try to placate the young man.

I know, baby. I’m hungry too, but it’s Zora and Tim’s wedding. It’s not like we can start in on the main course without them. That would be rude, I try to reason.

No, I don’t think so, Corey huffs stubbornly. As hosts, it’s their job to keep their guests fed and they’re failing. This time, I ignore his whine in favor of looking around at the beautiful décor instead. A chandelier that probably costs more than I make in a year dangles above my head, and three more line the hallway towards the ballroom, sending shimmering rays of light all about the space.

This place is beautiful, I say, trying to change the subject. What do you think the guest rooms upstairs look like? Probably absolutely sumptuous and wonderful, don’t you think?

Corey merely shrugs, tapping his foot with impatience. I don’t really care because at this point, we’re better off not talking. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to chat with, but sometimes silence is better than a confrontation, and I don’t want that to happen here. Taking a long swig of champagne, I ignore the way he’s impatiently bouncing his leg while jutting his lower lip out.

Meanwhile, I try to picture one of the penthouse suites upstairs. Gold curtain swags fill my imagination, along with an enormous bathtub with spray jets, and the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. My family isn’t poor, but we certainly don’t have the money to stay at a place like this, and between my salary at the Frosty Freeze ice cream parlor and Corey recently being fired from his position as a waiter, we definitely won’t be checking in anytime soon.

Here comes the bride! I hear someone exclaim. Oooh! A hush descends over the crowd, and for good reason too because my friend Zora looks almost magical as she floats down the hallway towards us. Her black hair is as dark as night, intricately pinned, and that gown--wow.

I wish I looked like my friend because Zora’s slim, toned figure looks model-perfect in a mermaid-style gown with a long v-shaped train. With my generous curves, I’d just look like a sausage stuffed in a too-tight casing, with rolls of flesh hanging out over the strapless bodice. Ugh, gross.

Meanwhile, her new husband raises a hand in apology as they approach.

Sorry we’re late, everybody, Tim says cheerfully. We hit some traffic, but now it’s time to eat! Is everyone ready? The crowd nods, and right on time, the ushers open the ballroom doors, revealing a cavernous dining space, also done up with no expense spared. The Greek revival columns are wrapped in colorful festoons, and each table is laid with twelve sparkling place settings, in addition to decanters of wine, water, and an amber liquid I can’t identify.

We retrieve our table numbers and then wander around, looking for our seats. Finally, we come upon table 38.

What the fuck? my boyfriend asks under his breath, eyeing the location with disgust. I know what he’s thinking. We’re right next to the kitchen doors, which is slightly annoying because waiters are coming and going constantly. Each swing of the door splashes us with light as well as the heat and clamor from the kitchen. But honestly, it’s fine. Someone has to sit here, and I don’t mind that it’s me.

Do they really need a candle on every table? my boyfriend pouts.

I force another smile to my face and take a deep, calming breath, noticing how a couple already at the table has stopped talking to listen to Corey’s dissatisfied complaints. It’s just a decoration. Don’t you think they’re pretty?

No, and the smell is giving me a headache.

I don’t think they’re scented, honey, I reply, my voice pointed, hoping to communicate that now is not the time for this. All I smell is the delicious food from the kitchen.

Which we’re way too close to, he retorts, his blue eyes practically shootings sparks of frustration and rage.

Well, everyone has to sit somewhere, right? I ask reasonably. Then again, logic never works with Corey, and I don’t know why I try anymore. I should have learned by now, but nothing can calm my boyfriend when he’s in a snit like this.

At least he looks good in his suit, I sigh as my eyes roam over his handsome form. His trips to the gym have doubled ever since he got fired, so at least he’s got the physique of an athlete. His chestnut hair is thick and full, and the young man’s got a strong jaw that makes women swoon.

My eyes trace over those mobile lips. God, Corey’s so hot when he’s not talking. Is that why I’ve stayed with him this long? Am I that shallow? There’s no way I’m that girl. Well, at least I don’t think so. We used to have something when we first got together, and I’m still clinging to hope that we’ll find it again.

With an aggrieved sigh, Corey flops down in his chair and I take a seat next to him.

Hi, our dining mate introduces himself. He’s a middle aged man with a paunch and thinning hair, but he looks friendly enough. I’m Miles and this is my wife, Leanne. How do you know Zora and Tim?

Corey launches into a long speech about how he doesn’t know them, and how he’s just my plus one. I don’t even try to interrupt because at least his attention is directed away from me. Instead, I try to enjoy the party. Again, the ballroom is a veritable bower of flowers, and the light is romantically dim. I’ll just pretend I’m floating around in a magical wonderland as my boyfriend whines.

But then, a set of piercing blue eyes meet mine from across the room, and I jolt in my seat. My heart flutters and my sweetest space goes hot because the alpha male looking at me is utterly gorgeous. He’s older, with black hair going silver at the temples, but he’s got the build of a man decades younger. Broad shoulders are outlined in a perfectly-cut dark suit, and his chest is broad and wide.