Who’s Your Daddy Read Online Lauren Rowe

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
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“I’m sure I’ve got something I can wear.”

“No, it has to look the part. I make a lot of money, Marnie. I don’t want to look like a cheapskate.”

She laughs. “I’ll show you what I’ve got after you eat. If nothing looks impressive enough, we can find a cheap fake online. We’ve still got plenty of time for it to be express-delivered before our trip.”

I take another huge bite and compliment her again.

“Thank you,” she says. She’s flushed. Glowing. Clearly, feeding people well—and being appreciated for it—is a genuine passion of hers. She asks, “So, should we brainstorm some details of our relationship?”

“Let’s do it.”

“How and when did we meet?”

I shrug. “Why not say we met at Captain’s a year and a half ago? The best lies are always based in truth. They’re easier to remember that way.”

Marnie flashes me side-eye. “Should I be concerned you’ve developed tips on how to lie most effectively?”

I chuckle. “I’m a lawyer. People lie all the time in my line of work. Not at my instruction, mind you. That would be unethical. But I suspect I’ve observed people lying too many times to count, and the best liars tend to keep it tethered to the truth.”

Marnie twists her mouth. “Would it be okay if we said we met at a corporate event? We could say you attended, and I was hired to cater it. I’m the worst at networking and selling myself, so this would give me an easy opening to talk about my work.”

“Sure thing.” I take another bite. “I saw you, lost my shit, and immediately beelined over to you. We got to talking and instantly felt a mutual spark, and we’ve been inseparable, ever since.”

“Perfect. It was instant chemistry, the likes of which neither of us had ever felt before.”

“Like getting struck by lightning.”

“Exactly.”

My heartbeat is thrumming in my ears. My cheeks feel hot. Why does this suddenly feel like a confessional to me? I quickly break eye contact. Grab my wine glass and take a long swig.

We’re both silent for a long moment. But finally, Marnie says, “Six months in, I introduced you to Ripley, exactly the way it happened in real life. You came for dinner and then helped me drop her off at preschool the next morning. And that sealed the deal for me. Once I saw how good you were with Ripley, and how much she instantly adored you, I was a goner. No turning back. You owned my heart.”

“Cool.” I clear my throat. “How long have we been together?”

She shrugs. “A year?”

“I like it. Do we live together?”

“Not officially. We’re planning to move in together, officially, after the wedding.”

“Such restraint. Am I moving in here?”

“I’d say so. Your place isn’t very kid friendly.”

“True. Okay. All good stuff.” I motion to my plate. “Is this how you greet me whenever I come over after a long day at work?”

“Of course.”

“Wow. I’m the lucky bastard whose fiancée feeds him a gourmet meal while looking like a goddamned wet dream? Talk about winning the lottery.” What the fuck? Why’d I say any of that? Surely, it wasn’t necessary to go that far.

Marnie looks down at her wine glass, blushing. “That’s good. Definitely say something like that. It’s a nice detail. Highly swoon-inducing.” She takes a long sip of wine. She’s still blushing. “Oh, here’s something we’d better nail down. What will you say when people ask you about our age gap?”

I scoff. “Nobody will ask about that.”

“Oh, yes, they will.”

“You think?”

“One hundred percent. I’m a forty-one-year-old single mother and you’re a gorgeous, successful thirty-one-year-old hot-shot attorney who could get literally any naïve twenty-four-year-old you wanted. They might find a clever way to ask you the question. Like maybe they’ll ask if you’re hoping to try for a kid of your own. But one way or another, someone will absolutely broach the topic.”

I shake my head. “I can’t imagine it. That’d be so fucking rude.”

Marnie snorts. “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks it comes up. Maybe they’ll make it sound like teasing or ribbing, but someone will say it.”

“You’re on.”

We shake on it. And as crazy as it sounds, when our hands touch, I feel a jolt of electricity skating across my skin—and judging by the sudden sparkle in Marnie’s blue eyes, I’m guessing she’s feeling something similar.

I release Marnie’s hand and grab my wine glass. What is it about this woman that lights my fire like nobody else? It’s annoying. No, infuriating. I don’t want to feel helplessly, hopelessly attracted to her, but my body has a mind of its own.

“Practice your reply when someone asks if you want kids of your own,” Marnie insists. “If you’re not ready with an answer, it’ll come across like you’re being evasive or defensive. It has to seem like something we’ve already talked about at length.”


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