Falling For Dad's College Rival: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  Contents

  Falling For Dad’s College Rival

  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

  Epilogue

  Extended 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

  Falling For Dad’s College Rival

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 253

  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.

  Falling For Dad’s College Rival

  BROOKE

  Any other function and I’d be glad to be my dad’s ‘date’.

  He’s supported me through everything and all on his own as the best single dad in the world.

  But his college reunion?

  When he asks, the face I make says it all until I learn who else will be there.

  Dad’s adversary growing up through school and college was always Trent Latham.

  What started out as friendly competition ended in a bitter feud, apparently. And dad’s never forgotten.

  Never came close to the level of success Trent enjoys either.

  Does dad really want to put himself through all that again? I mean. He hasn’t seen these people for over twenty years.

  Me on the other hand, I’ve kinda got a secret crush on Trent.

  Not that a younger girl like me really stands a chance with an older guy like Trent, but a girl can dream.

  Or could I?

  It isn’t long before I realize that apart from raising me just right being my dad’s one true success, he stands a very real chance of losing me to his old rival too.

  TRENT

  Reunions aren’t my thing.

  Especially when I consider what an asshole I was to most people when I was younger, but age does mellow a man somewhat.

  So does success.

  Security.

  Money.

  It can’t buy love, I know that for a fact. But it can make a man more confident and stable in life.

  Especially a man who already knows what he wants.

  Mike Wheatley will be there…

  The thought makes my lip curl.

  He’s the one guy I used to look up to, even though he never knew it and thought very little about me himself. But I showed him in the end.

  I showed ‘em all.

  Yeah, I was an arrogant Jock, flunked most classes but got all the scholarships, all the cash, and prizes a college football star got in those days.

  I made my way in life from there, never even thinking about Mike Wheatley much, until now.

  Sure, I’ll go. Even if it’s just to stick it to him one more time.

  Fucking know it all. I heard he had a kid right after college, but his wife bailed.

  Boo-hoo.

  When I see the angel on his arm when I get to the reunion, I figure he’s paid a lot of blue collar money to this girl for the night.

  Until she introduces herself.

  His only daughter.

  I’m definitely not gloating now.

  The game’s just shifted up a notch and so’s the lump in my pants.

  She’s my whole reason for being here now.

  I’m suddenly thinking I might just like reunions after all.

  *Falling For Dad’s College Rival is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  Chapter One

  Brooke

  “Nothing weird about it, sweetie. I know for a fact that a couple of us single parents are taking our adult kids with us. It’s not a ‘date’, just keeping your old man company at his reunion.”

  My face feels tight like it might crack if I even try to speak.

  “I told you about it weeks ago,” he chimes in, turning to scramble the eggs in the pan.

  I kinda do remember him mentioning his college reunion, but after the incident with the Trent photo, I figured he wasn’t going.

  We were putting some of my things up in the attic once I got home from college, all the stuff I won’t need anytime soon. When I happened across an old box of his own college stuff.

  “Oh wow,” he’d exclaimed. “I thought all that had been thrown out years ago, after your mom…” but he never finished any sentences with the word ‘your mom’ in them.

  Ignoring what he’d been about to say, he finished hefting my trunk into an empty corner and I start to pick through his dusty old box of memories. Pulling out a yearbook first and then a framed photograph.

  Dad has never raised his voice at me, not ever. But as soon as he saw the picture, he snatches it from my hands and growled.

  “And this! This isn’t your business either, gimme that!” he’d snapped, wrenching the back of the frame off and tearing the photo up into pieces right in front of me.

  Apart from being shocked at my dad’s weird behavior, I also got to see enough, confirming the other two people in the photo from the yearbook after my dad had stormed off.

  It was a picture of my dad, my mom, and my dad’s childhood buddy, Trent Latham.

  Best buddies for life until something happened, which I guess I’ll never know.

  Especially now.

  I haven’t mentioned the incident since, but I have to admit, I’m surprised my dad’s even considering going to his college reunion, let alone asking me to go with him if that was how he’s likely to handle his past.

  I kept the yearbook though, and after almost surprising myself by skipping over my mom’s photo, I can safely say it wasn’t hard to do.

  Trent Latham though.

  The man was a god back then, as much as he is today.

  In fact, I think he’s even more handsome today than he was when he was my age, back in college.

  Back then, Trent Latham was a college football star. The head jock, and by all accounts a bit of an asshole.

  But my god, was he attractive, still is.

  Did I mention that? I think I mentioned that.

  “I guess Trent Latham won’t be there, at your reunion I mean,” I hear myself say a little too loudly, making my dad tense up.

  He doesn’t turn around or even get angry, but I can see him grappling with his emotions before he finally relaxes a bit, laughing nervously to himself.

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry about the other week. I really lost it for a second, seeing that photo… It just brought back a lot of bad memories for me. Mostly about your—” he starts but doesn’t finish.

  I know he wants to say ‘your mom’, but apart from knowing what he means by that near mention of her, I can tell it wasn’t about her that day and it’s not about her now either.

  He lifts our eggs off the stove, and serving up some on each plate next to the toast and bacon he’s also prepared, he sits himself down opposite me, heaving a heavy sigh before he says anything else.

  “Yeah. Trent Latham will be there, apparently,” he forces himself to say without being able to hide his chagrin but creasing his mouth in more of an ironic expression than a smile.

  “He’ll be there, and the whole room… The whole college will be kissing his ass, as usual, telling him how great he was. Reminding us all just how great he is today,” he groans, frowning at his food after bringing the fork to his mouth, not even able to eat now.

  “That’s why I want you to come with me, Brooke. As my friend as well as my only daughter I want to show off. I could use the moral support,” he murmurs, pouting as he gives me an overdone performance of puppy dog eyes I don’t think anyone could refuse.

  “Well, if you say he’ll be there— I mean. If you need some moral support,” I say encouragingly, recovering my words enough to correct myself.

  “Thanks, honey. It’d mean a lot.” He sighs, wrinkling his nose at his breakfast again and
sipping some coffee before he notices the time.

  “Ah, shoot. I gotta run,” he exclaims, leaping up from his chair and grabbing his jacket slung over the back of it, leaning over to kiss the top of my head on his way out.

  “Can you pick up my suit from the dry cleaners then? The ticket’s on the fridge. And don’t make anything for dinner tonight, there’s a buffet—”

  “Tonight?” I gasp. “It’s tonight?”

  “Starts at seven,” Dad adds not even noticing my panic. “Have a great day sweetie, and don’t forget my suit, eh?”

  Before I know it, I’m alone in the kitchen with nothing but the breakfast dishes, dad’s dry cleaning ticket, and a sudden but very definite wet spot between my legs.

  “He’s actually gonna be there,” I say quietly, feeling the sudden news about the short time frame twist and turn its way into a new and very satisfying excitement.

  I’m glad it’s tonight.

  If he’d told me a week ago, I would never have even slept from just thinking about it.

  Squeezing my legs together with a little mew of satisfaction, I make a beeline for my bedroom after checking dad’s car is actually gone and then locking the back door.

  Slowly opening my dresser drawer and taking out the only thing I know that can give me some relief right now.

  I lay back on the bed, fondling its hardness before I take a deep breath, not even warming myself up beforehand.

  Thinking about Trent Latham, there’s no need.

  Using both hands I open the thick, heavy bound yearbook, flipping straight to the page I’ve memorized. The one with his photos and article about his football scholarship.

  I shudder a sigh, but seeing him in print only makes me want something else.

  Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

  Trent’s young, muscular frame is built like a linebacker but he was the star quarterback of both the college team and his pro football team afterward.

  There’s a clear photograph, highlighting his thick shock of dark hair.

  His deep hazel eyes shine with confidence as well as humor. His chiseled jaw and strong chin set in a permanent expression of the same.

  A man who knows what he wants as well as someone who has a few secrets.

  Perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth peer from a full-lipped mouth, that like his jaw seems set in a constant look to match the natural swagger of his pro-athlete body.

  The T-shirt doesn’t hide much, nor do the tight fitting tracks pants, highlighting a pant bulge that doesn’t leave a huge amount to the female imagination except maybe the question of how?

  How can one man be perfect in so many ways?

  More to the point, how can he look just as good today if not better, and how am I going to get a chance to even get close let alone speak to him if my dad can’t stand to even breathe the same air this guy does?

  Trent’s been on the local and national news several times over the years, as well as a brief commentating role for a national broadcaster, he’s set himself up in numerous businesses and is always promoting our town as well as our state.

  There’s a rumor he might run for office, so he’s been on the news more often than not lately.

  Something my dad politely ignores or casually flicks over from if he ever encounters it directly.

  But me?

  I can’t get enough of the man, old or new version.

  They say vintage is always better, and if the photos are anything to go by, they broke the mold after Trent Latham was made.

  Sigh.

  It’s the sound of my dad calling, hours later that wakes me.

  He’s reminding me to pick up his suit and I realize just how long I’ve spent dreaming of Trent with the yearbook hugged so close to my chest I have dents in my arms.

  Shit! I haven’t even decided what I’m gonna wear let alone left enough time to get the rest of me ready for tonight.

  I zoom through the dishes and head out to pick up dad’s suit, the challenges of the day are easier to deal with now because I know tonight’s the night.

  It’s stupid I know, to be so excited about it all.

  But a girl never died of dreaming.

  Chapter Two

  Trent

  It used to be the old football injuries making it harder to get up out of bed in the morning.

  These days I’m used to that pain.

  It’s the waking up alone I can’t stand anymore.

  I was up late on a conference call with some overseas business contacts and found it just as hard to get to sleep all alone in my huge bed.

  My cell ringing from the office next to my bedroom reminds me that the world won’t stop just because of how I feel.

  I sigh heavily, stretching and yawning as I get up, pausing in front of one of the full-length mirrors in my bedroom.

  I stick out my chin, flex, and stretch my jaw while keeping my eyes wide.

  Loneliness hasn’t aged me, which is something. My body still looks as good as it did twenty years ago.

  Almost.

  Maybe the odd line or gray hair here or there.

  Nah. You still got it, champ.

  I give myself a smile and a wink before the floor rushes up towards me, barely enough time to put my hands out.

  One… Two… Three…

  I’ve done almost a hundred push-ups every morning since I was nine. That’s over a million push-ups.

  Could I do more? Sure I could.

  But like everything else in my life, I like the balance of just enough.

  I’ve enjoyed a lot of success, had a lot of failures too. But I don’t see the point in breaking my balls to have more than my fair share.

  How much is enough?

  Well, at the moment I have more than enough for one. But I always counted on a queen coming along to help her king enjoy the spoils of success, and every good king needs a family too.

  Still waiting on that one. But I know she’s out there. I just know she is.

  Feeling a pleasing pump in most of my body, I do some burpees before jumping to my feet. Nothing puts a spring in the step more than some exercise.

  The missed call is from Dean Chambers, old business associate as well as Dean from—

  Ah, shit. I knew I forgot something.

  Before I hit the showers, I return his call. Noting with some satisfaction the toned body and chiseled abs winking back at me in the reflection of my office window.

  “Yeah, still got it,” I murmur to myself. The Dean picks up, interrupting my train of thought.

  It’s as I suspected, business first and then the reminder about the reunion. He’s actually hoping I’ll still attend.

  The Dean never let me forget his hand up back in college, my scholarships, and the shoo-in to the pro football team as well as his contacts helping set up my early sportscasting career.

  I scratched his back with some ground floor stuff that really paid off. He’s not a bad guy, but I like to keep my distance.

  “It’s a little presumptuous, Trent. But I was hoping you would make a little speech, say some good things about the college. We’re always looking for investors and you never know where people are at later in life… Plus I have some guests visiting from overseas.”

  Always business with this guy.

  I smile and nod, reminding myself if it wasn’t for Dean Chambers I wouldn’t have had more than one lucky break, early on and later in life.

  “I’ll be there, Dean. Never fear. I wasn’t sure I’d still be invited though, heard through the grapevine that some folks still consider me the younger man I was. Not the mature, successful adult your college made me.”

  Rumor has it I’m still an asshole after all these years, but the rumor mill will do that.