The Godparent Trap Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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My chest tightened. “And what’s that?”

“You need to stop controlling the world around you—and stop worrying about the life you’ve always wanted, especially since it’s been in front of you all this time. Want to know what Monica told me a week before she died?”

I walked slowly toward his desk and pulled out a chair. “I don’t know. Do I?”

He leaned forward. “Me, Monica, and Brooks were all out for drinks, and I think you were working late. She was telling me about Colby and the disastrous date you guys went on, and I laughed and said, ‘That’s exactly what stick-up-his-ass needs.’”

“Hey!”

“And Monica? She just smiled and said, ‘One day it’s going to happen. I can feel it. One day, she’ll be his family.’ Obviously it happened in a horrifying way, but I know, in my soul, that she’d be happy that you and Colby are together, that you’re following your heart, and dude, if you start crying, I’m gonna start crying, and I have an image to uphold, so just say thank you, shake my hand, make a grunting noise, and walk out of my office. Do some math or something…”

“Math.” I laughed out loud, and then I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the stress or just the fact that I’d been an idiot, but I laughed, he laughed, and I finally felt like some of the pressure in my chest had dissipated, like maybe the world wasn’t as gray as it once had been.

Hours later I was still thinking about all those times with Colby, the almost-kisses, the stares, the hugs, and it was killing me to be stuck at my desk. When had that ever happened in my entire life? I was a complete workaholic.

I grabbed a pencil and started twirling it between my fingers.

I literally had no idea what I was even working on. I had my laptop open, papers on my desk, and nothing, absolutely nothing in my brain but kissing Colby.

A knock sounded at my door, then Banks poked his head in. “How’s the focus coming along?”

I was tempted to flip him off, but instead I pointed at the door for him to leave. “I have a lot of work to do today.”

“Yes, but how much work have you actually done… friend?” His smile was all-knowing.

“Out!” I pointed at the door again.

He held up his hands and shut the door quietly.

I stared at my laptop and took a deep breath. I was a professional. I could do this, I could compartmentalize my work life and my home life.

Home life.

Huh, months ago I would have laughed at the possibility, even though I’d always wanted it.

Now I had it.

What the hell was I even doing at work right now?

When I could be home?

When I could pick up Ben from school? Or make horrible cupcakes? How did parents even do this regularly without getting stressed out?

Wine?

Working out?

Yoga?

I groaned and pinched my nose, then grabbed my phone and stared too hard at the screen, finally deciding to send a text.

Me:

How did the cupcakes go over?

Colby:

A kid cried, so yeah super well thanks for asking!

Me:

Oh God, because they tasted so bad?

Colby:

I prefer to think of the glass as half full, clearly they were so good he wanted more. Thus the tears.

Me:

I like it.

Colby:

How’s work?

Me:

I think I’d prefer a cupcake.

Colby:

What about a breakfast burrito with quinoa? I know what quinoa is!

I laughed.

Me:

I know you do, food is literally your job, too bad you can’t cook, you could have been a killer chef.

Colby:

I prefer to eat the hard work, not prepare it.

Me:

That’s fair.

Colby:

Oh man, Viera just got up from her nap, shit, where’s her dragon? She said Ben hid it before school and I can’t find it anywhere!

I thought long and hard about it.

Me:

Check his Lego stash.

I drummed my fingertips against my desk in impatience, only to have her ping back right away with a picture of the damn dragon captioned “EUREKA!”

Colby:

How did you know he’d hide it in his Legos?

Me:

All men think alike…

Colby:

I’ll just take your word for it, oh shoot, gotta run, it’s the scary cry and dinner isn’t ready and… maybe stay at work for a few extra hours so I don’t—shit gotta go!

What? I thought our text exchange had gone well. Now she wanted me to work late? I frowned down at my phone, then looked back up at my computer and shook my head. Not a chance in hell.

I was going home.

SEVENTEEN

Colby

I heard the front door shut with a soft click—but it might as well have been a nuclear bomb going off. After several arguments over nap time earlier, I’d finally gotten the kids to go lay down for quiet time though by the looks of the house anyone would think a war had broken out before I was able to successfully accomplish anything past attempting to keep my calm before rocking in the corner with a bottle of wine clutched in one hand and a pillow to scream into in the other.


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