My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance by Flora Ferrari (feel good fiction books .TXT) 📗

of crap. It’s the most unreliable piece of junk I’ve ever driven, but at least it gets me from point A to point B…

Just as I’m thinking this, the engine makes a sputtering noise and I drift across the lot, coming to a stop barely twenty feet from where I started.

I grip the steering wheel and let out a breath, glancing in the rearview to find Trent watching me. His lips are twisted into something between a grimace and a smirk like he can’t decide whether he wants to be angry or glad that we’re going to have to spend more time together.

I’ve never believed in fate or destiny or anything like that.

But this is a little suspicious, my car breaking down at the exact moment we were going to leave each other.

I force myself to let go of the steering wheel.

I’m holding onto it like I want to break it.

I climb from the car and look over at Trent, shrugging.

“I guess it was only a matter of time before this hunk of crap failed me.”

He nods, striding across the lot. “Let me take a look.”

I step out of his way, watching as he strides past me, my eyes glued to the broad muscles of his back. I clasp my hands together to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing onto him.

My womb quivers and sings and cheers inside of me.

He’s not getting away from us that easily, I imagine her saying.

CHAPTER SIX

Trent

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Tessa says, fidgeting in the passenger seat of my car.

I glance at her briefly as I guide us down the country road, the afternoon sun making everything glisten brightly.

She won’t look at me. She’s staring out the window, biting her lip, like any second she’s going to explode and let all the pent-up anxiety come tumbling out.

“No, it’s fine,” I tell her.

I was right about her car. It’s a hunk of crap, broken in more ways than one.

“I’ll arrange for somebody to pick it up and take a look at it.”

She sighs, and I can read the sigh, all the different worries nestled within it.

“And don’t worry about the cost,” I say on impulse, rage working its way through me when I think about my talented queen wasting her time stressing about this crap.

“What?” She turns to me, shaking her head. “Trent, I can’t let you do that.”

You’ll find a way to repay me, I want to roar, but somehow I pull the words back.

That’s twice we’ve been interrupted when I was going to kiss her, first by Mrs. Pennyworth and then, worse, by the phone call with Angela. Surely that’s a sign that I need to fight my instinct to claim her, batter it down with uncompromising hands so I don’t ruin what we have… whatever the fuck that is.

What we have?

I barely know this woman.

And yet that thought sounds absurd.

I feel like I know her better than I know myself. She’s going to give me a family. I’m going to dedicate myself to her for the rest of my life.

“You can and you will,” I say firmly.

She’s silent for a while, breathing softly, making me think about how she’d sound as I drive inside of her, burying myself to the hilt as I kept my gaze on her to track the way she twitched and shivered and sighed for me.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks softly.

I’m thinking that the road is deserted and the forest offers ample shade and privacy. I’m thinking about pulling over and smoothing my hands up her bare thighs, pressing my palm down on the place between her legs, grinding relentlessly until she’s begging for more, more, more until she’s drenching the seat with her release.

But I can’t tell her that. I have to think of Angela.

“This is a nice drive,” I say inanely.

She giggles. “Why do I feel like that’s a lie?”

I glance at her. She’s smiling. It makes her face bright, young, beautiful.

Mine.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Your tone of voice, I guess.”

I chuckle, squeezing the steering wheel hard to stop myself from lashing my hand out to her leg.

The desire to squeeze those shapely thighs, to slide my hand up and up until she’s screaming at me to finger her tight wet slit…

Fuck, it’s killing me.

“You can read my tone of voice now, can you, Snapshot?”

She giggles. “Snapshot?”

“I thought that was what everybody called you,” I banter.

“Yeah, when I was like fifteen and obsessed with those disposable cameras.”

I shrug. “I think it’s cute.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Watching you today, seeing how intense you are about your work, I respect that. I respect how seriously you take it. You’ll make it your career one day, Tess. I know you will.”

Because I’m going to support you, I almost tell her. Every step of the way, I’ll be there. You won’t have to go through this alone.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “But I’ve sort of accepted that it might just be a hobby. I mean, I’d love it if it was my career. But I’ve got to be realistic, you know?”

“No,” I snarl, with more passion than I intended. “I don’t fucking know. I saw how much you care about it. Out there, every second you were with your camera, it was like… shit, Tess, it was like the real you was coming out.”

I need to stop.

But I can’t.

We’re meant to be together.

“I’m thankful I got to see it,” I go on, unable to stop as if something else has taken over me.

“Trent,” she whispers, a moan beneath her voice.

She folds her arms across herself, hugging tightly, causing her breasts to bulge around her forearms. I’m glad I’m driving so I can’t look at her for too long.

“I know,” I say, my voice gruff.

She lets out a hollow laugh. I can feel her looking at me, searching for answers.

“You know? What do you know?”

“I know we can’t do this,” I snarl. “I know it’s wrong.”

She flinches and lets out a short breath, surprise