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,
