A Father's Love E-Book

Lorana Hoopes

• Herausgeber: Lorana Hoopes
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Maxwell Banks was the ultimate player until he found himself caring for a daughter he didn't know he had. Can he change to be the father she needs?
Alyssa Miller is his ex-lover's best friend who promised to help keep Peyton safe. With a past filled with hurt, can she trust Maxwell?
Though nearly complete opposites, feelings develop, but can Max really change his philandering ways? Or will one mistake seal his fate forever?

Leseprobe

A Father's Love

Lorana Hoopes

A Father's Love Copyright © Lorana Hoopes. All Rights Reserved.

Contents

IntroductionDedicationChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23

1

Introduction

Thank you to my loyal readers and all my new readers. It is nice to know that people still like clean romances. I promise there is enough to still tingle your toes but nothing you would have to be embarrassed reading in front of your children.

Be sure to visit my newsletter to get a free novella and if you’d like to be a bigger part of my stories, join my ARC list, where you’ll get a chance to review the new books first and know when sales are coming

Be sure to check out  the rest of the Heartbeats series : The Power of Prayer, Where It All Began, and When Hearts Collide and my new Star Lake series: When Love Returns

Also check out my early reader chapter book The Wishing Stone if you have children aged 4-8

2

Dedication

To all the single parents out there, especially fathers. I pray God gives you patience and strength.

Chapter 1

Maxwell Banks smiles at the buxom blond across from him. Her name has escaped his memory, but she will make a suitable companion for the night. The image of her long blond hair splayed like gold across his pillow fills his mind, sending his pulse into overdrive. Her yoga instructor body is just calling out for his attention if the tight shirt she is sporting is any indication.

Discreetly, he turns his wrist to check his watch. Fifteen minutes since they finished dinner. Surely that is a long enough segment of small talk. “You want to finish this somewhere more comfortable?” He reaches across the table to stroke her hand as he says the words. A little flattery goes a long way. He has mastered that art in the last few years.

Her tongue darts out and swipes across her lips, and her teeth bite the bottom one, causing the blood to flow to it and tint it a shade darker. “Um, sure, I guess that would be okay.”

Her words are hesitant, and Maxwell knows he will have to turn up his charm. He doesn’t usually have to work hard to get women to come home with him. With his dark hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, and chiseled chest his looks alone attract many. The fact that he comes from money attracts the rest. Those are the harder ones to get rid of, the ones after his money. They tend to show up uninvited and blow his phone up all hours of the day.

But this one isn’t looking for a sugar daddy. This one he picked up in yoga class. Yoga was not usually his thing; he preferred lifting and running, but his friend Justin had dared him to try the class, and as the instructor was hot, Maxwell had taken the chance.

He could tell when he entered the large room that she found him attractive as her eyes followed him as he crossed the room to grab a mat.  His blue cut-off t-shirt had showed off his muscular arms and brought out his eyes, and his playing dumb had kept her by his side most of the class. Asking for her number had been easy after that.  He had simply put on his puppy dog face and emphasized the need for private lessons if he was ever going to improve. She had fallen for it; hook , line, and sinker. Now it was time to seal the deal.

“Great.” He whips out his wallet and places four twenties on the table. It is more than enough money as she only had salad and water – another perk to taking out weight conscious women. Then he stretches out his hand to her.

“Don’t you need to wait for change?” she asks, glancing around for the waiter.

“No, I believe in big tips.” He flashes his best smile, hoping it will soothe some of the hesitation he hears in her voice.

She shakes her head in disbelief, but accepts his outstretched hand. He gives it a squeeze for good measure and then leads her out of the restaurant and back to his black BMW Z4.

“What about my car? Shouldn’t I just follow you?” She glances around for her car in the full parking lot.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring you back to your car later.” Her smile is a little more relaxed as he opens the car door for her, and she slides into the grey leather seat.

He folds himself into the driver’s seat and turns the engine. As the air has cooled considerably, he presses the button for the heated seats before pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.

The girl—he really should remember her name—pulls on her skirt to stretch it back down. It has crept up her leg revealing smooth, toned thighs underneath.

“Can I turn on some music?”

He mentally kicks himself. He’s been so distracted with her thigh that he didn’t realize they were driving in silence. Silence is never good. It lets them think. “Of course, whatever you’d like.”

She punches the buttons on the dial a few times before landing on some newer pop music. Inwardly, he cringes – he’s more of a hard rock fan himself, but he knows the payout will be worth it.

Fifteen minutes later, he hears the sharp intake of her breath as he pulls into the driveway of his house. While not a mansion, the 4000-foot ranch home is impressive. The craftsman style boasts three slanted roofs, two chimneys, a grey-brick exterior, and a white wraparound front porch. A small working fountain sits in the middle of the circular drive.

“You live here?” The awe is plain in her voice.

He smiles inside. The deal is almost sealed now. “Yeah, it’s a little big for one person, but I hope one day to fill it with a family.”

When she turns back to him, he can almost see the stars in her eyes.

He pulls into the three-car garage and parks next to his Harley Davidson. The third bay contains no vehicle. The garage is neat; he can’t stand messes, and the few tools he owns meticulously line the shelves along the wall.

Her heels click across the cement floor as he leads her to the door into the house. It opens onto a large laundry room with a washer, dryer, and table to fold clothes on. The door from the laundry room leads into the hallway. To the left is the kitchen, dining room, and family room. To the right are the bedrooms. He leads her to the left where he has a bottle of wine waiting on the counter. It is yet another tactic he has learned will loosen women up and lower their inhibitions.

The kitchen is large, half the size of most houses entire first floors. The appliances are all stainless steel and a marble topped island in a crème color with brown and gold flecks fills the middle of the room. A large silver light fixture hangs above the island, and a deep sink takes up a portion of the space under the light. A bottle of red wine and two glasses sit prominently in the middle of the island, and across from the sink four plush barstools covered in black leather line the island. The cabinets that circle the room are a deep brown, and a large walk-in pantry covers most of the back wall, but it is the wine that he focuses on.

“Drink?” he asks as he uncorks the bottle and begins pouring the glasses.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should. I can’t stay too long. I teach an early class tomorrow.” The hesitation is creeping back into her voice, and her eyes are darting around as if she might bolt. It’s time to turn up the charm.

He pushes his lower lip out in a slight pout. “You wouldn’t make me drink alone, would you? Besides, what will one glass hurt?” The glass he extends to her is half full, and he focuses his steely blue eyes on her. Many women have told him that his eyes are what drew them in, and he knows how to use them to his advantage.

Her eyes flicker back and forth, but return to his gaze, and he knows he has her. “Okay, maybe just one.” Her arm rises and accepts the glass.

“To a wonderful night with a beautiful woman,” he says, clinking her glass ever so slightly. A blush spreads across her face, and she drops her eyes to the murky red liquid as she takes a sip. He is about to suggest they retire to the living room, where his leather couch will be more inviting and conducive to his seduction, when his doorbell rings.

A glance at his watch reveals it is nearly ten p.m. No one he knows should be ringing his bell, and it is too late for solicitors. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says to her, “I’ll be right back.”

As his shoes echo on the hardwood flooring, he curses the timing of whoever is on the other side of the door. He has worked hard to get this woman here, and she has proven more skittish than many before her. If he loses her because of this, there will be retribution.

He is fully prepared to lash into the unfortunate soul on the other side of the door, but when he swings it open, his heart stops and his words fail him. The anger sizzles as if doused like a campfire, and he blinks not believing his eyes.

Chapter 2

“Sarah?”

Though much paler and thinner than the last time he saw her, he is almost certain that the woman before him is the only woman he ever loved, the woman he lost three years ago without a word of explanation. Though he was promiscuous before, it was her disappearance that sent him into the philandering tailspin he has been in for the last three years.

“Hi Max, can we come in?”

We? His eyes drop lower to take in the small child clutching Sarah’s hand in a death grip. She has dark brown hair and large blue eyes. Her daughter? But she didn’t have a daughter when he was seeing her, so that means the girl must have come after she left. Not much longer though. He isn’t a good judge of age, but the child can’t be younger than two.