Boss On A Leash: A Single Dad Billionaire Romance by Kara Hart (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

out an emotional chorus akin to spilling ten pumpkin spiced lattes, it hits me harder than I thought any song could. As I turn on the main intersection near my house, I slam the volume to ten and belt out the lyrics. Tears cloud my vision, and I feel every word. Rowdy looks concerned.

I pull into the parking lot and finish the song. Rowdy’s ready to get inside, so I throw a leash on him before hugging and kissing him. “You’re the only man for me,” I tell him.

He responds with a loud fart.

Desperate to get into bed, I jog toward the promenade, shut the gate, and head up the second floor. Every step seems to take away ten energy points from me.

When I get to my front door, there’s something waiting for me. It’s a letter and a bundle of sunflowers.

“Marc?” I wonder.

If it was him, he must’ve sent a courier very early in the morning.

I bend and pick up the card. On the front are two hand-drawn people tied up by a dog leash. “I’ll always miss the fun we had. I was so tangled up in you.”

This is never going to get better, is it?

The good times never go away. They fester as memories, waiting for the wrong moment to surface.

In reality, there’s never a “right moment.” Dealing with those memories is a part of moving on. I’ve done that with plenty of other men.

Problem is, I don’t want to let go of this one.

Because with Marc, every moment is right.

Marc

February 16 is the day I lost my company. And February 16 is the day I lost Ali Greenwald forever. It’s not a holiday, but I’ll always remember today because I wasn’t the only person to lose someone I cared for. Sammy did too.

Sammy was rooting for us the entire time. A big part of that comes from losing her mother. That’s also the reason why I haven’t dated anyone in a while. If I give the wrong person the keys to captain this ship with me, it could have detrimental consequences.

Ali wasn’t the wrong person. She was everything Sammy needed and more. I didn’t tell Ali this, but I think her presence was a huge reason why she made it through the winter. I thought I could come up with a plan to get her back. Now that she’s gone, I’m not sure what we’re going to do.

Today is a rare occurrence. Without work obligations riding my ass, I let Sammy have a sick day from school. Together, we sit in bed, watching silly cartoons and reading books. Then, we take a long nap. If my breakup didn’t destroy my happiness receptors, this would have been the best day ever. Then again, if Ali was with us now, it would be even better.

Throughout the day, I periodically step outside to check my phone. It’s usually as soon as Sammy mentions Ali’s name, or I see a reminder of her on the TV. I’m overwrought with delusions surrounding her calling me back. I need to wise up. It’s not going to happen.

The hours fly by. Evening hits. We order a pizza. I eat three too many. Then I eat another three more. I eat so much my shirt feels tight. I’ve never had a woman do this to me before.

When I re-enter the room, Sammy’s fast asleep. The hazy glow from the television flashes over her, so I turn it off and tuck her underneath the covers. She’s out pretty hard, and I’m feeling tired as a dog. Ragamuffin is quietly sleeping in her bed, so I take this as my cue to get my pajamas on.

I head to the bathroom, but something stops me in my tracks. It’s a dark shadow outside my window. At first, I’m inclined to ignore it. That’s when I hear a loud popping noise.

Thinking it’s something sinister, I run out on the porch, shirtless. A bright light flashes in my eyes, forcing me to squint. “Who’s there?”

The lights turn off. It’s a very familiar station wagon. An even more familiar woman steps out of the car. I’m looking right at her, but I can’t believe it.

“Hi,” she says. “Again.”

I wave. “Um. Hey.”

She bends her neck, breath billowing outward like fog on a rainy day. “I’m back.”

It’s impossible to frown at a sight like this. “It’s an Easter miracle.”

“Not quite April yet,” she says.

“Forgive me. I lose track of time whenever I see you.”

Breaking the ice for the second time today, she moves toward me until she’s close enough to touch. Lord knows how bad I want to touch her again. “You’re smooth, Marc Wylan.”

“Just another desperate attempt to make you laugh,” I say.

She cracks up, scrunching her nose.

“Is it working?” I ask.

She waves her hands to make me stop, giggling so hard she sways back and forth. I reach out to keep her balanced, but she just falls into me. She’s not heavy by any means, but I’m not well balanced. I guess the sight of her does that to me. Holding her, we both fall to the ground.

It’s quiet outside, spare for the crickets. She’s staring at me, a look of surefire determination in her eyes. I want to believe she’s here to give me a second chance, not to pick up another item she left behind.

I point to her car. “I thought I got rid of that thing. It leaked a bunch of oil across my driveway,” I joke.

She puts a finger to my lips. “Shh.”

It’s not a time for jokes.

It doesn’t matter why she’s here. I want her. No more waiting for things to fall in place. I’m going to take what I want.

Closing my eyes, I kiss her. A flurry of emotions take over as I push my lips open.

I feel her tongue against mine, her hands on my face, hands that know me. Hands that care. I hold her close as she straddles my waist. I suck her lower lip into my mouth, biting down.