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My friend’s son 1

ผู้เขียน: Faithuba
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-06-26 15:12:30

The smell of grilled steak and fresh basil lingered in the summer air as laughter echoed through Isla Monroe’s backyard. The soft golden rays of the setting sun danced across her skin as she topped off a few drinks and handed them out to her friends. Hosting summer BBQs had become a tradition—a momentary escape from life’s stress, expectations, and her quietly crumbling post-divorce routine.

She smoothed her sundress and glanced toward the open gate, waiting for her guests' arrival.

“Isla!” Marcie called out, waving. “I invited Liam to come by. Hope that’s okay.”

“Liam?” Isla echoed, her smile flickering. “Of course. It’s been years since I’ve seen that boy.”

Boy.

The word died in her throat the moment he stepped into her yard.

Liam Carter was not a boy anymore.

He was tall-no, towering—and his once-skinny teenage frame had filled out into something that made her mouth go dry. Broad shoulders strained against a white T-shirt that hugged his chest like it had been painted on. Faded jea
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  • Forbidden Affairs    The Preacher Daddy

    The chapel sat at the very top of the mountain, quiet and weathered, its white steeple cracked with age. There was no paved road leading to it, only a gravel path overgrown with grass. Wildflowers bloomed at the edges, as if trying to reclaim the holy ground.Mia climbed the final steps with her chest tight—not from the altitude, but from nerves.This wasn’t a regular Sunday service.This was confession.Whispers in town spoke of the man who ran the mountain chapel. Preacher Abram. A man who didn’t ask for tithes. A man who didn’t judge. But the women who visited him came back changed. Quieter. Wetter. Hungrier.And Mia needed that kind of salvation.She pushed open the door.Inside, it was candlelit. Dust swirled in the shafts of light through the high windows. There were no pews—just one wooden chair in the center and an altar at the front.A man stood behind it.He wore black. His clerical collar stretched over a thick neck. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing veined forearms and

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Recluse

    Kendra didn’t mean to crash her car.But the road was narrow, the snow had crept in faster than forecasted, and she was too stubborn to turn back. She’d come up to the mountain to unplug from everyone—her phone, her boss, her messy situationship. She wasn’t looking to be rescued.Especially not by a man like him.She woke up on a threadbare couch, wrapped in thick wool blankets, the scent of pine smoke and something male filling her lungs. The cabin was dim, lit by firelight and a few old lanterns. Her head throbbed, and her ankle was bandaged tight.“You’re awake,” said a low, gravel-rich voice.She turned.He stood in the doorway of the kitchen—broad, shirtless, jeans slung low on his hips. His chest was covered in ink and scars. His beard was wild. His eyes were the color of a storm that didn’t warn you before it hit.She swallowed. “Did you save me?”“I pulled you out before the car slid further. You could’ve broken your neck.”“Thank you.”He nodded once. “I’m Rafe.”“Kendra.”Sh

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Butcher Daddy

    Tara should’ve turned back when she saw the blood on the apron.The small mountain butchery was nestled in a quiet clearing off the highway. There were no signs, no hours posted. Just a rust-colored wooden building that smelled of smoke, iron, and meat. She was there to pick up a “special delivery” of elk cuts for her family’s mountain-side lodge. Her dad had called ahead. Told her the butcher was a loner. Quiet. Old-school.He didn’t say the butcher looked like that.Tara stepped inside and nearly lost her voice.The man behind the counter was huge. Dark flannel stretched across his chest. His forearms were bare, thick with muscle and veins, dusted in dark hair. His apron was splattered in red, and his hands were still gloved. One gloved hand held a bone saw. The other clutched a cleaver.His face was rugged. Beard trimmed. Jaw sharp. Eyes cold.“You the lodge girl?” he asked.“Yes,” she breathed. “I mean—Tara. From Maple Creek Lodge.”He nodded once. “You’re early.”“Sorry. The snow

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Forest Ranger Daddy

    The sun was barely up when Jade pitched her tent.She’d ignored the sign at the trailhead that warned “restricted wildlife zone—no overnight camping,” because she figured it was for people who needed to be told not to feed bears. Not her. She was just a woman craving space. Silence. Maybe a little thrill.She got more than she bargained for.By noon, she was half-naked, soaking in the nearby stream, her shorts drying on a rock, her earbuds in, music playing as she floated on her back. It was bliss. Until a heavy boot kicked her shorts into the water.Jade sat up fast, water sloshing around her bare chest.The man towering over her was not impressed.He wore a deep green ranger’s uniform, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms roped with muscle and veins. His badge glinted in the sunlight. His face was shadowed by a tilted cap and a scowl that made her thighs clench under the water.“You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing camping in a protected zone?” he asked.Jade cross

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Sheriff Daddy

    The blinking red-and-blue lights caught Aria off guard.She slammed the brakes, heart hammering in her chest as the siren wailed behind her. She hadn’t even been speeding that much—just a little over the limit. But this was no ordinary stretch of highway. This was the kind of nowhere mountain town where even the trees whispered about the Sheriff.Her hands gripped the steering wheel as heavy boots crunched toward her car.The door opened and he appeared.Dark green uniform. Broad shoulders. Holster heavy on his hip. Sheriff’s star gleaming on his chest. His hat was tipped low, shadowing his eyes, but she could see the rough line of his jaw and the way his mouth didn’t do softness.“Step out of the car,” he ordered.Aria swallowed. “Did I do something wrong?”“Step. Out.”She obeyed, the night air brushing her bare legs. She shouldn’t have worn this skirt for a solo road trip, but she hadn’t expected to meet the law in the middle of nowhere.He circled her slowly. Not like a cop doing

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Tattoo Daddy

    The tattoo shack sat crooked at the edge of the ridge, half-hidden by pine trees and cloud mist. There were no neighbors. No traffic. Just the creak of old wood, the buzz of bees, and the rumble of thunder rolling through the mountain.Ella stepped onto the porch, her heart pounding.This was her third solo trip since the breakup. The first two had been all hikes, hammocks, and herbal tea. This one was different. This time she wanted something permanent. Something painful. Something that would mark her in ways her ex never could.The man who opened the door wasn’t what she expected.Not skinny and covered in piercings.He was wide. Built like a boulder in black jeans. Bare-chested beneath an open flannel. His muscles stretched with ink—wolves, knives, Latin quotes across thick arms and a massive chest. His beard was dark, his nose slightly crooked like it had been broken once.His eyes locked onto hers like he already knew her secrets.“You’re early,” he said.“I was excited.”He held

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