Read Online Books/Novels:

My Ex’s Secret Baby

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Natasha Black

Book Information:

I may hate him…
But I can’t deny my attraction still lingers.
He’s big. Bossy. And in control.

And the only thing better than seeing him now…
Is the memory of me screaming his name. Again. And again.

He wants to play pretend.
To keep his millions safe.
But what if pretend turns into real life?

And what if my little secret get’s out?
The one that wont stay little for very long?

Books by Author:

Natasha Black Books



So, this is what he left me for…

As my gaze swept over the busy skyline of New York City, I shook the thought out of my head. Blake was the past and, right now, I was there for the future. Behind me, back in the penthouse, I could hear my mom and stepdad’s subdued, yet clearly contented conversation.

Moving with them had been a no brainer. There was nothing for me back in Willow Creek; just a crappy, minimum-wage job with no benefits. As if that was enough to keep me there. Anyway, my old town was full of old memories too. Ones I’d rather not revisit.

Like of Blake and me. Even though it had been years, all that we’d done together, wherever I went in town, whatever I ended up doing, every few days, I’d run into memories of him. I guess it wasn’t totally unexpected. He’d been a big part of my past, after all.

I turned away from the balcony, taking in one last eager breath of fresh air. There. I was already dressed for the interview in the only pair of pressed pants I owned, and a plain, but suitable, white-collared shirt. Professional, but demure. I just hoped I had prepared my answers well enough.

“Honey, you look great,” my mom said, “Doesn’t she, Paul?”

My stepdad put his arm around my mom.

“Just like her mom,” he said.

“Where did you get that from?” I teased him, “The Stepdad’s Handbook of Perfect Answers?”

He just winked at me, “Don’t want to give away all of my secrets.”

I smiled. That was one of the things my mom and I loved to tease my stepdad about; just how damn perfect he was. He was a genuinely kind, sweet man and, more remarkably, almost always said the right thing, too.

To be fair, I guess my mom had waited long enough to find her Mr. Right. She’d raised me completely alone, and, for twenty years had hardly dated at all. So, I guess she’d earned her Paul. He was a good guy.

“Do you think we should go over the questions and answers again, Mom?” I asked.

She gave me a playful swat.

“Nicole, how many times do I have to go over this with you? You’ve got this job. You have the qualifications, you have the know-how, and, you’re smart as all get-out. They’d be fools not to hire you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her a side hug, “Maybe you should come with me and give the interview instead.”

She just chuckled, tucking a flyaway blonde strand behind her ear. We had different hair colors — Mom’s a carefully maintained blonde bob and mine, a tangle of brownish red curls that reached my shoulders — but people still saw our heart shaped faces and wide set blue eyes and knew we were related. Some people even thought we were sisters.

“You know I’d love to come with you,” Mom said, “But something tells me that wouldn’t exactly speak to your professionalism.”

“Or my independence,” I agreed, looking around.

“Paul, this is seriously the most beautiful place I’ve ever stepped foot in, but…”

“You are not going apartment hunting, yet,” Mom said firmly as she walked me to the door. “After all, you don’t even know if you got the job yet!”

I turned to her with an incredulous frown. “I thought you said I totally had it!”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” Mom said, one of her favorite old school proverbs.

“In other words,” I clarified, “You just want me living with you and Paul for as long as humanly possible.”

My mom, clad in a beautiful chiffon blouse, crossed her arms across her chest.

“Is that such a crime? Wanting to be close to my daughter? I mean, when you moved back home to Willow Creek, your house was just so far.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said.

A crappy rental at the edge of town, a good forty-five-minute commute from anywhere decent, was just one of the many sacrifices I had made to move home. A crappy apartment, and what ended up being an unworthy job I’d stayed at for far too long, in dismal hopes for a raise and promotion I never got. But that was behind me.

“Anyway,” I said, “I think I’m going to head over there early, maybe get a coffee on the way. I want to make sure I know where this place is, and you know how I am with directions.”

A smile crept onto my mom’s lips.

“Just make sure you don’t mention the Halloween incident of ‘03 at your job interview and you’ll be fine. Ace it.”

“Mom!” The Halloween incident of ‘03 was the infamous time my mom had let my friends and I trick or treat alone. We’d been old enough, twelve, and I’d supposedly been old enough to know my way around my own neighborhood. Supposedly being the key word.

As it turned out, I somehow ended up getting us into the next county, lost, scared and in tears as the rain poured over us. Which was when someone had shown up to save the day. It had been the first time I’d ever laid eyes on Blake.