Dad’s Silver Fox Best Friend

Dad’s Silver Fox Best Friend An Enemies to Lovers Surprise Pregnancy Romance Brooke Bolton Copyright © 2023 by Brooke Bolton - All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Contents 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 The End Did You Enjoy This Book?! Join My Newsletter! Chapter One Blaire Dad is confined to a hospital bed with tubes attached to his body, yet he still manages to laugh at his friend, Nick Stone's lackluster jokes. The doctors think he may have some type of heart disease and are holding him to run various tests. With a subtle eye roll, I silently tell Nick to bag his joke and let my old man rest, but that seems to encourage him even more. I yank a bottle of water off the tray beside Dad's bed and uncap it, taking a long swing just to keep myself from pinching Nick's face. He's always rubbing his friendship with Dad in my face and telling me that being twenty years older than me is all the proof I need to let him rule my life choices. Ugh, he’s so annoying. If I had any idea that he'd be here, I would have stalled just a little bit. Perhaps an hour or more. That would’ve given me ample time to finish editing the manuscripts that are slated to be published in a few days. "If you keep drinking like that, you're going to get water all over your fancy dress Blaire," Nick says in a mocking tone, pinning his gaze on the bottle in my hand. "What's gotten into you? Work?" He goes on to say as my grip on the bottle loosens just a bit. I had no idea I was squeezing the poor thing when I’d rather it be his damn neck instead. Dad pats my back with his free hand. On impulse, I push the chair closer to his bedside, so he won’t have to stretch that far. "Is everything okay, Bunny?" At Dad's voice, I muster a smile and nod quickly. I don't need him to start worrying about me when he should be focusing on healing so he can get back on his feet. "I'm alright, Dad. Just worried about you, that’s all." His lips crinkle in a wide smile. His face brightens considerably, and at that moment, the resemblance between us shines through. But while Dad’s hair is dark, mine is ginger blonde. "I'm fine, can't you see how my skin gleams under the lights?” It's my turn to laugh. From my peripheral, I can see Nick rolling his eyes at us and pretending to adjust his cufflinks. "The only thing I'm worried about is the charity gala I've been planning for the past two months." Dad's voice becomes sober, and the humor disappears from his eyes. I know how much this function means to him. To our family. It was Mom's dream before she died. Dad vowed on her deathbed that he'd take it upon himself to make sure that every kid he sees on the streets finds a home. First, he donated his five hundred acres of land in Freedom Trial for a shelter to be built for the kids, and then he employed about ten people to look after them 24/7. That was eleven years ago, and today, he's expanded to Quincy Market and someplace north of Boston. Salem. I was eighteen then. It was my first year in college and my first year away from home. Dad has been doing amazingly well and has pretty much made the shelters his sole business and priority. His shipment company comes second. "Those kids need the money to go to college. I made them a promise and I can't go back on it now." I sit up straighter and ask, "How many are they, Dad?" My tone mirrors his because the kids' welfare is equally significant to me. "Maybe we can take money out from my savings, add some from yours and then sell a few things." He shakes his head frantically, "No, no, that's not the way it's done." I frown, finding it a bit difficult to grasp his words. "But Dad, it's about the money, right? So, let's cancel the function and just raise the money ourselves." Nick clears his throat. I'll be damned if I let him butt his ass in my family business. He needs to learn his place and back off. "Dad?" "It's not the same thing, Bunny," he says with a dreamy look on his face. "The charity gala gives people an opportunity to contribute toward a shared goal. It fosters networking, and if you really pay attention, you'll notice that it's a fun way to bring awareness to the cause and create a positive impact." "It encourages people to get involved," Nick pipes up, coming to lean his knee on the edge of the bed. His huge frame towers above me. I want to move away but I'm stuck between the wall and his body. "You're right, partner!" Dad shoots him a grin, then turns to me, his gaze imploring. "It will make more sense if we stick to tradition, Bunny." I tug gently on his hand, trying to reassure him of my support. "You can always do it once you're discharged, right?" I glance at the chart in his bedside drawer and then back to him, "What did the doctor say? When am I taking you home?” Nick clears