Barcelona With Dad's Best Friend: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Read online

  CONTENTS

  Barcelona with Dad’s Best Friend

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  BARCELONA WITH DAD’S BEST FRIEND

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 231

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  BARCELONA WITH DAD’S BEST FRIEND

  My business has been my life for the last twenty years. I’m all about work, and I don’t have time for the nuisance of dating.

  But the moment I see her from behind I find myself stopping in my tracks.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, normally a woman can’t turn my head like this, but I already want to get to know this woman.

  It seems strange, wanting to meet her when I’ve not even seen her face. But something pulls me towards her.

  But the moment I catch her eyes my heart drops into my stomach.

  Can it be?

  I haven’t seen her in so many years. But the eyes are so much like her father’s, the man I knew so well.

  My best friend when I lived in the States.

  But I can see the recognition in her eyes as much as in my own. It’s her.

  I can’t believe it.

  All curves in all the right places. I can’t believe the flare of desire right in my gut that tells me I’m going to make this woman mine. God, I want her. And even though I know immediately that it’s wrong, I can’t deny the way my body responds when it sees her.

  This is going to be a challenge.

  Even if I should resist it, I know I won’t be able to. Best friend’s daughter or not, she’s special. Remarkable.

  Every time she smiles I feel my heart slipping a little more out of my chest, going to its new place in hers. I want to touch her, to claim her, to make her mine. I want to take her home and keep her.

  I only have a week until she’s gone – and I can already feel myself mentally pushing work away, delaying it, making room for her in my schedule. Because how often does an opportunity like this come up?

  The most enchanting, beautiful girl I’ve ever met walked by me on the street, and even if it turns out I know her father. I can’t waste this.

  I’m going to make her mine – and then she’ll never want to leave.

  *Barcelona with Dad’s Best Friend is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Fernando

  I thank the heavens above that I’m done with work for the day. I spent a lot of time today trying to stifle yawns, the meeting could not have been more boring.

  But, it’s all good. Because now I have the afternoon off, in preparation for dinner tonight. Yes, it’s for business – but at least there will be good food and entertainment mixed in with the work, and I’m looking forward to it.

  That’s why I’m able to stroll down the street in a good mood despite my long morning, taking in the good weather of summer and enjoying the way the lively sellers display their wares along my route. Most of them recognize me by now and won’t try to harass me into buying anything like they would with the tourists, leaving me free to appreciate the handmade and painted items they display.

  It’s great to support local artisans, and every now and then I think about buying something; though truth be told, if I was to pick up something from every one of them, I would have no space left in my house. The least I can do is to sometimes make bulk purchases when we have one of our customers fly in their teams from the US or other countries, so we can offer them a gift to take home.

  I’m coming up on a small store, run from a tiny hallway-turned-display area, which sells the most exquisite hand-painted pottery in the area when I see a woman browsing the plates set on a wire rack outside. She bends slightly to examine those on a lower shelf, and I find myself stopping in my tracks.

  Wow.

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, normally a woman can’t turn my head like this. I’m all about work, and I don’t have time for the nuisance of dating one of the airheads who usually tries to hit on me – all fake eyelashes and hair extensions, thin waists because they starve themselves, nothing real about them. But this girl…

  She’s wearing a white dress, hanging slightly loose around her curvy frame, though when she bends like that her ass is highlighted perfectly in the fabric. And what an ass. Round and full, for some reason I get the sudden urge to fill my hands with it, to touch and squeeze. What is coming over me?

  I hesitate as she straightens, allowing me a better view of the whole of her body, blonde hair sways to the middle of her back, and the frills around the arms and hem of the dress speak to a certain amount of fashion sense. She’s wearing wedge sandals, and bracelets glitter on her wrists – though they look like cheap charm bracelets, nothing expensive.

  The owner of the store, an old man named Jose who tends to exaggerate his frailty as a sales tactic, is badgering her to look at more of his wares in broken English – another of his tactics, he speaks as fluently as I do. His aim is to make people so embarrassed they can’t refuse, or to pretend he can’t understand them when they do.

  I smirk as she replies sweetly and agrees to look at more of the dishes, complimenting him on his work. He’s caught another one. But this time, I feel like I might actually want to intervene. Not because I begrudge Jose a sale – but because I’ve so far only seen her from behind, and I already want to get to know this woman.

  It seems strange, wanting to meet her when I’ve not even seen her face. But something pulls my steps towards her. Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m there, leaning in the doorway of the store.

  “H
ey, Jose!” I call out, in English for the customer’s benefit. “Stop your swindle, eh? Let this young lady keep her money in her pocket.”

  Jose waves a hand in my direction and mutters a curse in Spanish, which only makes me grin. Then she turns around to look at me, and I catch her eye – and my heart drops into my stomach.

  Can it be?

  I haven’t seen her in so many years, and when we last met, she was only a child. But I can’t deny what I’m seeing. The sweep of her nose, her plump lips, just like her mother. The eyes like her father’s, the man I knew so well. My best friend. When I lived in the US, we were inseparable; even now, we talk so often, even though we only get the chance to meet in person once a year or less.

  And he stopped bringing his daughter along when she was still only a young girl.

  But I can see the recognition in her eyes as much as in my own. It’s her. Ashley. I can’t believe it.

  I can’t believe how hot she grew up. Her head has those perfect curls, her beautiful face framed by her hair in just the right way. Her large chest straining against the front of her dress, like it wants to burst out. Like it knows we should be naked already.

  I can’t believe the flare of desire right in my gut that tells me I’m going to make this woman mine. God, I want her. And even though I know immediately that it’s wrong, I can’t deny the way my body responds when it sees her.

  This is going to be a challenge.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ashley

  I turn at the sound of a stranger’s voice and see a man in a black suit and tie, a crisp white shirt between them. He’s tall and takes up almost the whole of the doorway of this small store, more like a market stall in size. I see dark hair, a handsome and strong jaw, the width of his shoulders suggesting a muscular build –

  And then I look closer at his face and blink, unsure of what I can possibly be seeing.

  It can’t be, can it?

  It can’t be Fernando?

  “F-Fernando?” I ask, barely trusting myself. If it isn’t him, I’ll look like a real idiot. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, but I can’t help but think…

  “Ashley?” he says, confirming my suspicions. He’s wearing a frown with a smile, puzzled but also pleased. “Is that you?”

  “Wait…” I shake my head in wonder, even glancing at the store owner in case he can shed some light on this. “Wait, did my Dad tell you I’m here?”

  “No, I haven’t heard from Joe in a while,” he says. “Wow – what are you doing here in Barcelona?”

  “I’m on vacation,” I say. “Wait – this is just too weird. You didn’t know it was me?”

  “I was just trying to tease old Jose here,” Fernando says with a laugh. “What a coincidence! It’s like we were meant to bump into each other here today.”

  “That is just so weird,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I haven’t seen you in…” My voice trails off as I try to calculate how long it’s been. I can’t fix the number in my head. All I can think about, actually, is the fact that Fernando is far hotter than I remember him being when I was ten years old. That he’s extremely hot. Like, I might need a bucket of water to cool me down kind of hot. There’s just the right amount of stubble on his face, darkening his strong jawline. His eyes have something in them – I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s as though he hasn’t aged a second since I saw him last.

  “Ten years?” Fernando guesses.

  “Right!” I complete the math at the same time as he does. Ten years. And I’ve gone from being a ten year old girl to a twenty year old college student. If my memory really is correct, then he’s entered his prime in the same years.

  “Come, we should step outside,” Fernando says, following his gesture I look around to see Jose glowering in the corner, and I realize that between the two of us, we’re monopolizing his little store. I step out into the street with Fernando, into the hustle and bustle of Barcelona’s city center.

  I can’t help but notice, as we do, the pair of girls walking up the street towards us; they’re about my age, and they look Fernando over with definite appreciation in their eyes. Then they see me and shoot daggers at me. Even the older woman across the street, who must be in her late fifties at the very least, is giving Fernando a once over, and I’m sure I see her lean in a little to check out his ass.

  Yes, he’s definitely a whole lot hotter than I remember. It makes me feel a little flustered, and suddenly I don’t know what to say to keep the conversation flowing.

  “Do you have plans, right now?” he asks, bringing me back to something I can at least answer competently.

  “No, not really,” I say, wishing I had something cooler to add. “I’m just wandering around, exploring a bit. I only landed yesterday, so I’m finding my feet.”

  “Well, then, let’s go to lunch,” Fernando grins. “I was on my way to get something to eat anyway. Well? What do you think?”

  “I’d love to,” I say, with absolute honesty – because right now, getting the chance to sit opposite him and stare at his handsome face sounds like a wonderful way to pass the time. If it’s combined with his sexy accent and gravelly voice, as well as some great Spanish food, then I simply can’t think of anything better. Even if I might make a fool out of myself and end up swooning at his feet.

  “Come on, then,” he says, gesturing down the street as we fall into step together. “I know just the place.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Fernando

  “Here it is,” I tell her, stopping outside one of my favorite cafes in this part of the city. Truth be told, I was thinking of going home to eat, but this is so much better. Getting to sit with her and talk with her is the foremost of my priorities right now. I’m sure that after an hour or so of idle chat, the attraction will wear off and I can go about my day like normal.

  Because right now, I feel like walking away from her would be torture. I won’t do it. So I’ve got to wait until it wears off – because no woman has ever made me feel this strongly at our first meeting. I have to wait and see what course this takes.

  “Oh, it looks so sweet,” Ashley grins, stepping forward and through the doorway. I like how she’s able to lead the way, rather than waiting on me to make every decision for her. Some women expect you to open every door and prevent them from having to lift a finger. Maybe I’ve gotten used to the lazy, spoiled women who are the wives of my business partners or their friends. Maybe it’s just that this American is a breath of fresh air.

  I follow her inside to a table, where she picks up the menu and begins to read. “You speak Spanish now?” I ask, watching her eyes move over the text.

  “Not really,” Ashley admits. “I picked up a few basic phrases when I booked this trip. Just enough to get by. And some things are obvious – like patatas bravas, I think I know what that is.”

  “I can translate if you’d like to know the rest,” I tell her. I watch as she puts the menu down on the table and bends over it to concentrate, then I quickly jerk my own menu in front of my face. Mainly because that stops me from staring right down her cleavage since the way she’s leaning really makes it hard to avoid.

  Damn. Concentrate, Fernando. I try to think of things that are decidedly unsexy: taxes, parking fines, cemeteries. Anything to get control of my dick and make it stop wanting me to rip her clothes off right here and fuck her on the table. What is wrong with me today?

  “What’s this one?” she asks. “Something about… fish?”

  “Fish stew,” I tell her, glancing at her finger marking the spot and getting an eyeful again. I really need something to distract me, now.

  “I think I’ll have a Spanish omelet,” she says, then laughs. “Or, I mean, an omelet, I suppose.”

  “You’ll get used to that,” I assure her. “How long are you here for?”

  “Just until the end of the week,” Ashley says. “I was in Madrid last week. I wanted to take a little vacation, just by myself. To prove I could, I suppose.”

&
nbsp; “Why not?” I reply, keeping my smile up despite the sinking feeling in my chest. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I thought she would be here longer. Maybe I thought there was no way the universe would put this beautiful creature in my path unless it would allow me to keep her. Just one week. It’s not very long at all.

  But a lot could happen in a week.

  “Anyway, it’s going pretty well so far,” Ashley says. “I only got lost in Madrid three times. And every time, I tried to ask someone in Spanish for directions…”

  “Don’t tell me,” I say. “They replied in English each time.”

  “Yes!” Ashley laughs. “It’s like everyone speaks it here.”

  “In the big cities, yes,” I nod. “Tourist resorts too. It’s easier to get by. Out in the countryside, it might be different.”

  “I didn’t know you still lived here,” Ashley says, making a thoughtful face. “Dad must know, though.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he does – we spoke a couple of months ago and I told him about what I’ve been up to recently. Nothing has changed in that time.”

  “I don’t know why he didn’t call to suggest you show me around, then,” Ashley says, then shrugs. “Maybe he thought you would be too busy.”

  “He could still have asked.” I offer her a sly smile. “I can show you around if you like.”

  “Really?” she asks, excitement immediately lighting up her face before I see her consciously fight it down. “Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that. You must be so busy.”

  “Busy, yes,” I tell her. “And bored, yes. It would be a nice break. Actually, this afternoon I’m totally free.”

  “You are?” The excitement lights up her eyes again and I can feel it happening, something is taking over me. She’s so enchanting. The way she shows everything on her face, without trying to hide how she feels. It’s so innocent and raw. Talking to her, I remember what it’s like to be that young. It’s been twenty years since I was her age, but I feel it coming back to me. She infuses me with it like a potion of youth. She makes me feel vibrant and fresh, the way she is.