Bachelor Swap by Lacey Black (best fiction novels .TXT) 📕

for bed, I climb beneath the soft sheets, reaching for my nightstand drawer. I have to dig, but I find the item I’m seeking.

I hold the thick vibrator in my hand, contemplating whether or not to use it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the need, but I know there’s no way this ache will just…go away. Matthew stirs up something deep inside me, including between my legs. Yes, I’ll definitely be using the device this evening.

And thinking about Matthew Wilder.

***

“Good morning, may I help you?” the perky blonde says behind the hostess stand.

“I’m meeting Jerald Morgan,” I reply.

I don’t have to wait for her to check her computer screen. “Oh, Mr. Morgan arrived just moments ago. If you’ll follow me,” she coos.

We move through the restaurant to a small table in back. As soon as my dad spots me, he sets his phone down and stands up, a wide smile on his face. I step forward, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. “Sorry to keep you,” I say, as he places a kiss on my forehead.

“I just sat down less than two minutes ago,” he replies, waving off my comment with his hand. “Have a seat.” When I do, he asks, “How was your drive over here?”

“Beautiful.” My dad knows I love this part of town. It’s one of the oldest sections of Boston, with gorgeous architecture and landscaping. The buildings are massive and ornate, but in a classic and regal way.

He smiles, knowing his choice of restaurant would please me. Even though this place is closer to his residence than mine, he recognizes how much I enjoy the area and schedules luncheons here whenever our schedules will allow, which happens every month or so. I suppose if he actually retires and sells his company, we’ll have even more time for random lunches like this one.

“Any big plans this Saturday?” he asks, perusing the menu.

“Not until later. We’ve been finalizing the gala details,” I tell him between sips of ice water.

Our waiter arrives and takes our orders, promising to return with my dad’s drink and our bread basket right away.

“Before we get to the gala, talk to me about this young man. I thought maybe you’d bring him to lunch today,” he says, the slightest sadness crossing his features.

“He wasn’t available this morning,” I tell him. The truth is that’s an assumption. Since we made plans for later in the day, I assumed he was busy this morning. It’s rare that Matthew doesn’t work on Saturdays, so I didn’t even invite him. With his apartment remodel this week, I knew he was busy.

“Too bad. Maybe soon?”

I give him a nod as the waiter returns with Dad’s drink and four warm slices of freshly baked bread. I take a quick drink of my water before grabbing a slice of bread, picking it into smaller bites and dipping it in balsamic and garlic olive oil.

“Tell me about the gala,” he invites, listening intently as I go through the plans for the evening. His company purchases a table for the fundraising event and invites his direct support staff and spouses to attend with him. Between his assistant and her husband, the vice president and his wife, the CFO, who’s also widowed, and the company lawyer and his flavor of the month, they fill an eight-person table with money and class.

“I’m proud of you, honey. I can’t wait to see what this year’s event brings in,” he says, just as our food is delivered.

I dive into my crab salad, while he cuts into his medium rare prime rib. Between bites, I ask the burning question I’ve been wanting to ask. “How’s the sale of Evolution coming?”

He sets his fork down. “Good. It should be finalized at the end of next week.”

My mouth drops open in a very unladylike manner, making me glad I hadn’t just taken a bite of food. “Next week? Isn’t that rushing it?”

Dad lifts his shoulder as he makes another cut into his meat. “Possibly, but the offer is solid, Kyla. The company who is purchasing it has made a promising deal to keep my support staff in place. That was my biggest concern. I’m not so much worried about Harold, because he’s past retirement age, but I don’t want Lizabeth and Dominic to worry about losing their jobs,” he says, referring to his assistant of ten years, Lizabeth, and the company vice president, Dominic.

“They get to stay on?”

“I’ve been assured, yes. They want the contracts Evolution has secured, and if that means keeping a few employees on to get those deals, he’s willing to make an exception.”

“Well, that’s good news,” I reply, feeling a little better about the sale. I’ve come to know and love my dad’s team as if they were my own family, and the thought of them potentially losing their jobs bothered me greatly.

“It was the only way I’d sell, and they knew it. Harold has decided to retire when I do, which means their team will fill his CFO spot. That makes sense, though, keeping all of the companies under the same financial operator.”

I guess he’s right. I don’t know anything about finance and don’t pretend to. I can raise funds like no other, but the actual disbursement of them isn’t something I’ve ever been interested in.

“Well, I’m happy for you. I know this is a big step, and one you didn’t take lightly.”

He nods in agreement and wipes off his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Of course not. And I’ve been transparent with my team the entire time. They knew this was a possibility and have appreciated my drive to keep the changes minimal.”

“So, golf, huh?” I ask, a knowing grin on my face.

He barks out a laugh. “There’s plenty of room for improvement on the course,” he replies, finishing up his potato before pushing his plate aside. “You could join me, you know. You’re still a member of the club.”

I almost roll my eyes, but refrain. My parents have been paying