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The Marriage Contract

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by Natasha L. Black




  The Marriage Contract

  Natasha L. Black

  Contents

  Introduction

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Boss Daddy (Sample)

  A Note from the Author

  Books by Natasha L. Black

  Connect with Natasha L. Black

  Introduction

  The rules of the agreement were clear.

  Pregnancy was not part of the plan.

  My mother wants me married off like all my older brothers.

  Nobody has ever tempted me to put a ring on it.

  Until Chloe walks in the bar, fresh from California.

  She escaped from her awful life her parents pushed on her.

  Chloe won’t be controlled, not anymore.

  She’s all fiery spirit and dangerous curves.

  And off-limits. I’m her boss.

  Until we get a crazy idea.

  We could get married, solve both our problems.

  All fun and games, no strings attached.

  The fun becomes something sexy and delicious.

  Everything’s great until I find a pregnancy test.

  Things just got complicated…

  But maybe it’s a sign that our love is 100% for real.

  The Marriage Contract is a full-length standalone secret baby romance full of angst, complicated love, and steamy romance set in cozy, idyllic Astoria, Oregon. Let these Anderson brothers show you what a real HEA looks like. This is book five of the series. It can be read in any order.

  1

  Matt

  It was a slow day at the bar, and most of the staff had been sent home. Aside from the cook we had hired, it was just me, Jordan, and Hannah running the place until the evening shift, at which point I got to go home and the rest of the crew came in. I could use a day off.

  The last few weeks had been pretty crazy, and a slow, easy day off was much looked forward to. Between the bar picking up steam seemingly every night and packing people in for theme nights and regular nights alike, we were constantly rolling. Between my duties in the kitchen and running tables as well as occasional bartending when Jordan or Cris wasn’t there, I was having a hell of a time keeping myself from collapsing with exhaustion the second I got back to my apartment.

  My apartment was my solitude, my fortress, and I absolutely loved it. I was a bachelor, through and through, and my home reflected that. I owned, at maximum, five towels. I wasn’t even sure exactly if that was true, but it certainly wasn’t more than five. I had blinds and no curtains in every room except my bedroom, where I had blackouts. My living room was dedicated to a giant television and the comfiest sofa and lounge chair I could find.

  I was greatly looking forward to having an evening off to sit down, crack open a beer, and play video games until I drifted off to sleep.

  Then Mom walked into the bar.

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself. “Hey, Mom!”

  “Matthew,” she said, smiling wide and walking toward me with her arms open. It didn’t matter if the bar had four people or four thousand in it, she was going to come hug me in front of all of them.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as nonjudgmentally as I could. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my mother; I adored her. It was just that if she was here this late in the afternoon, it meant she had no plans on going home. Driving at night was not her strong suit. And considering that Jordan and Hannah and the baby were all in a small apartment as they saved up money to buy a house, that meant there was only one place for Mom to stay.

  “It was the funniest thing,” she said. “I was sitting at home on a call with Samantha—that’s one of my fancy ladies you know—and she went on and on about Portland and how much she liked it when she visited. Then I thought, you know what? I haven’t been there in ages, and I have a brand-new grandbaby up there who needs some of his grandmother’s love. So, I’m here!”

  The Fancy Ladies was the name of Mom’s group of older ladies who went out together at least once a week. Their adventures ranged from the normal grandmotherly type of crocheting shopping trips and sessions to the more risqué trips to strip clubs with names like the Banana Hammock.

  “Mom, hey,” came a voice behind me, and I turned to see Jordan walking out of the back room. Hannah must have been in the kitchen gathering orders because she came out right behind him and smiled.

  “Jordan, my baby, how are you?” Mom asked as she drew him into a hug, then went into, almost word for word, the same description of how she got here to him.

  “Come on, grab a booth, let’s get you a drink,” Hannah said as she came by, taking Mom’s hand and guiding her over to an empty booth.

  “Wait a second,” Mom said, “if you’re both here, who’s watching the baby?”

  “Remember how I told you Hannah’s parents send her money every month?” Jordan said. Mom nodded.

  “Well, I figured if my parents weren’t going to be a part of my baby’s life, the least they could pay for the nanny. So, we hired a nanny for when I’m at work,” Hannah said.

  “She’s only usually here a couple days a week,” Jordan put in.

  “Oh, well, that makes sense,” Mom said.

  “So, are you going to hang out for a couple days?” Hannah asked.

  “I was thinking about it. I know you and Jordan have limited space right now, so I was thinking about renting a hotel room,” she said. Her voice trailed off as she said it in the way that I knew instantly what she was aiming for. She wanted me to offer, and she knew I would, too.

  “That’s silly, Mom,” I said, trying to hold my sigh inside. “I have a guest bedroom. You can stay with me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” she said in that way that said she was just being polite.

  “It’s fine, really,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I am going to be off soon, so we can head right over and get you situated.”

  “Are you sure I won’t intrude?” Mom asked. “No girlfriends that will be upset that they can’t come visit?”

  There it was. Mom’s not so subtle way of asking if I was seeing anyone.

  “No, Mom, no girlfriend.”

  “That’s too bad,” she said. “You don’t want to end up like Tom, wasting away for years before he found his love.”

  “I’m fine alone, Mom, really,” I said. “I’d rather not get into this right now, if that’s okay.”

  “She just wants you to find someone to make you happy,” Jordan said.

  “Alright, that’s it,” I said. “I’m on my fifteen.”

  “Weren’t you already?” Jordan teased.

  “No,” I said, firmly. Standing, I headed to the back and out the door into the fresh air.

&
nbsp; I hated when they ganged up on me. It was bad enough when it was just Mom doing it. I could kind of look past it because she was my Mom. It was her job to make sure we all had partners and kids and were happy. But when my brothers ganged up on me, especially now that all of them were married off with kids, it was too much. I didn’t want to talk about it, not just because I wasn’t seeing anyone, but because I wasn’t sure I even wanted to get married. I saw how happy it made my brothers, but I wasn’t them. I was pretty okay being alone.

  I took my time outside, psyching myself up for the day, and went back in, putting on a brave face.

  When the shift was over, I gathered Mom, who spent a good ten minutes saying goodbye, and got her into the car.

  When I opened the door of my apartment, I saw the disappointment on Mom’s face. She looked around the living room as if she was confused, and when I guided her to the guest bedroom, she sat her bag on the bed gently.

  “Are you sure you are okay with me being here?” she asked.

  “Yeah, why?” I asked.

  “It just… it doesn’t look like you have much company,” she said.

  I knew she didn’t mean it as the insult it was, but it still stung. The guest room had a bed, arguably a better bed than my own, but not much else. One dresser sat across from it with a television on it, a cable box attached. I had only used the room a handful of times, once when Jordan wanted to stay while his place was fumigated and then a couple of times some friends came up and stayed. But they were guys like me and didn’t mind the lack of décor.

  I walked away and into the kitchen. Pulling up the menu from the local pizza shop, I sent an order through their app to have it delivered. Mom came into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools by the bar.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier,” she said. “I just want to see you being happy.”

  “I am happy, Mom.”

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?” she asked.

  “No,” I lied. “I’m rather comfortable with where I am.”

  “Oh, okay.” Mom said, dropping it.

  I didn’t like lying to Mom, but really, I was lying to myself, too. I did enjoy my apartment and the solitude it gave me. I enjoyed being able to live my life by no one else’s rules. But to say I didn’t get lonely wasn’t the truth. I did find myself lonely, often in fact. And Jordan having Hannah with him all the time at the bar only seemed to amplify that, though I had no problem with them being together.

  “Want something to drink?” I asked. “I ordered us pizza.”

  “Pizza? You didn’t want me to cook?”

  “No, Mom.” I shook my head and grinned. “I love you, but you are my guest. And I cooked all morning and did prep work for tonight, so I just was in the mood for pizza. If you really want, you can cook tomorrow.”

  Mom grinned. “I would like that. I’ll take a water, please.” I reached into the fridge and grabbed a bottled water and handed it to her. She opened it up and took a sip. “So, are you going to continue to run the bar here in Portland, or are you thinking about ever coming back home?”

  “Honestly?” I asked. “I like the new location. I like Portland. And I like the idea of both bars being run by the family, so even if Jordan took off, I would still be here to run it.”

  “I think Jordan likes it here, too,” Mom said.

  “He does. Since he and Hannah settled down here, it seems like he just kind of clicked. I don’t think he wants to go back to Astoria, at least not anytime soon.”

  Mom nodded. “I just miss you boys being home.”

  I reached over and put my hand over hers. “We miss you, too, Mom. Remember, it’s not that far away. If you want us to come home, even for a dinner, it’s only a couple hours. We can make that drive with no problem.”

  “I know.” She smiled.

  “Just keep it in mind,” I said. “You could always get a place up here, too. I’m sure Tom would spring for it up front if we could distract him long enough with some stock news to get at his wallet.”

  Mom laughed. “You silly boy,” she said. “Don’t talk about my Tommy like that. Now when is that pizza coming? I’m starved.”

  2

  Chloe

  I slammed the trunk a little harder than I thought I did, and it popped back up and hit me on the chin.

  Of course. That was how this was going to go. I was going to knock myself out before I could leave my parents’ house for good, thereby completely confirming that I was useless and needed to be mothered for the rest of my life.

  Still woozy from smacking myself, I shut the hood firmly but gently and walked around to the driver’s-side door. Looking back at the house one last time, I sighed. I had grown up in that house. My cousin and I had spent years playing in that yard, running through the halls and having dinners in the dining room, sleepovers in the bedroom.

  Granted, we were only able to do that when Mom and Dad weren’t home. When they were off doing one of their wealthy socialite parties that children were expressly not invited to, then we were allowed to be children. But when they were around, there were expectations. Ways to walk or talk. Things that we could talk about. Things that were forbidden.

  Like wanting to live a normal life.

  My parents wanted control of every aspect of my life, not for any other reason than how it reflected on them. They didn’t care if I was happy. As far as they were concerned, no one was happy unless someone else was suffering. Their happiness came from the jealousy of others. Their motivations came from jealousy of others still. Everything was about power. Money equaled power. Words equaled power. Even marriage. Marriage equaled power, too.

  Which was the source of our fight. I did not want to marry Adam Ryan, the son of one of my father’s business partners. My insolence enraged them.

  On paper, it was perfect. He, like me, had been raised wealthy and powerful and somewhat famous. We were roughly the same age. Our fathers’ companies were chummy, and if they were to combine one day, they would be one of the most powerful in the world. People talked about us as if we were a couple when we had only met a few times. There was an expectation.

  I hated Adam Ryan.

  He was a smarmy, sneaky, cheating bastard. Everyone knew it in our social circles, as little as I paid attention to that scene. He was often stepping out on whatever girlfriend he had with the first pair of fake boobs to give him attention at a bar. It was no shock when he did it to his wife, too. He was already divorced, with two kids he never saw other than for publicity stunts. Somehow, despite his ex-wife being a saint for putting up with him as long as she did, she was the bad guy in the media. All the blame went to her for being cold. Nothing could ever make Adam Ryan look bad.

  His family made sure of it. They paid the papers to print it.

  The public thought he was this great guy and that his wife was this terrible ice queen. That he was a loving father who was being kept from his children, despite never taking her to court for custody. That he had a dazzling smile and a way with clients, when really, he was a sleazeball and bullied people under threat of burying their company if they didn’t agree to his one-sided deals.

  I wouldn’t be caught dead walking down the aisle with him, and I told my parents that. They responded by laughing at me. Ridiculing me. My father warned me not to be a disappointment like my cousin was. Not to be a loser like Hannah.

  Yet, as far as I was concerned, Hannah had it all. She had sent me pictures and emails of her new family. Her husband was a tall, handsome man who owned a bar in Portland, and they had a baby now. She was happy, truly happy, and she told me if I ever needed to get away, to call her. She would be there.

  I was about to test that sentiment.

  “Hello?” Hannah asked on the other end when she picked up.

  “I stopped arguing with them,” I said by way of greeting. “I just waited for them to leave and packed my stuff. I’m looking at the house right now for the last time, and then I am driving to Portland.”

  “T
rust me, you won’t miss it. Just drive away,” she said. “Call me when you’re out of LA. I don’t want you driving in that traffic and talking at the same time.”

  I assured her I wouldn’t and flung myself in the car, pulling away and not looking back. She was right. As soon as I was past the city limits on Interstate Five, I felt better. I pulled over at a rest stop and called her again. When she answered, it sounded like she was in the middle of something.

  “Hey,” she said, “where are you?”

  “Just outside of LA. I stopped.”

  “Good,” she said. “No driving and talking. It’s dangerous.”

  “I have the Bluetooth in the car, Hannah,” I said.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, laughing a little. “Well, at any rate, I am glad you stopped. And I am glad you left, too. Are you coming here? I can make space for you at our place. Our new house should be ready soon, and we’ll have an extra room for you, but until then you can crash on our couch.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “Really, you have no idea how much I appreciate that. But I already booked a hotel, so it’s okay. I’ll need help getting around and figuring things out after, though.”

  “I have your back,” Hannah said, “always.”

 

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