Worth the Fall: A Single Dad, Romantic Comedy (Flirting with Forever Book 2)

I’m leaning against my truck, my arms crossed, my gaze fixed on the corner of the street where Mia always appears. My heart races with anticipation. I know she’s expecting me, but there’s something different about tonight. Something electric.

When she finally turns the corner, her bag slung over her shoulder, her steps quick but light, my chest tightens. She sees me almost immediately, and her face lights up, a wide smile spreading across her lips.

‘You’re early,’ she calls out as she approaches, her voice carrying that teasing edge I love so much.

I push off the truck, meeting her halfway. ‘I couldn’t wait,’ I admit, my tone low and unapologetic.

She grins, standing close enough that I can see the pink flush of her cheeks. ‘I like this new side of you,’ she says, tilting her head.

My brow arches as I slide my hands into my pockets, leaning slightly closer. ‘What side is that?’

She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘The bold, bossy, possessive side. Not exactly the kind, sweet, and caring single daddy I met at the pickleball court.’

A slow, wicked grin spreads across my face. ‘You have no idea.’

Her smile falters just slightly, the playful teasing giving way to something deeper, something raw.

I step closer, my voice dropping to a low murmur. ‘You’re right, Mia. I am possessive. Knowing what I have with you, knowing what this is… I’ll do everything in my power to protect it. To protect you.’

Her breath catches, her hand gripping the strap of her bag as she looks up at me. ‘Miguel…’

I brush my knuckles along her jaw, the softness of her skin making my heart race. ‘And the man you see outside—the lawyer, the single dad? That’s not the same man who wants to devour you.’

Her lips part, her cheeks flushing, but she doesn’t look away.

‘Let me show you,’ I say, my voice rough, the words hanging between us like a challenge.

She nods, her voice barely a whisper. ‘Okay.’

The second we step inside her building, I can’t hold back anymore. I pull her against me, my hands sliding to her waist as my lips claim hers. It’s not gentle—it’s hungry, desperate, like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to kiss her again.

She responds instantly, her arms wrapping around my neck as her body presses against mine. Her bag falls to the floor with a dull thud, but neither of us notices.

‘Miguel,’ she breathes against my lips, her voice soft but laced with urgency.

I slide my hands up her back, my fingers tangling in her hair as I tilt her head back, deepening the kiss. Every touch, every breath feels like it’s not enough—I need more.

We stumble into her apartment, the door closing behind us with a soft click. Her fingers tug at my jacket, pulling it off my shoulders as I back her against the wall.

Her eyes meet mine, wide and full of heat, and I lean in, my lips brushing her ear as I murmur, ‘The man you met at the pickleball court is still here. But he’s nothing compared to the man who wants to make you his.’

She shivers under my touch, her hands clutching my shirt as if I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.

‘Let me prove it to you,’ I whisper, my lips trailing along her jaw, down to the curve of her neck.

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling back against the wall as my hands explore her curves, my lips tasting every inch of skin I can reach.

In this moment, nothing else exists. It’s just her—her warmth, her scent, her everything—and the unrelenting need to show her exactly what she means to me.

Her head tilts back, her breath coming in shallow gasps as my lips move along her neck, teasing the sensitive skin just below her ear. Her fingers grip the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, her need matching mine in a way that drives me insane.

‘Miguel,’ she whispers, her voice trembling, but it’s not fear—it’s anticipation.

‘Say it again,’ I murmur against her skin, my lips brushing the hollow of her throat as my hands slide down her sides, pulling her flush against me.

‘Miguel,’ she repeats, her voice softer this time, like a prayer or a secret just for me.

I growl low in my throat, the sound reverberating between us. ‘You don’t know what you do to me,’ I tell her, my lips brushing hers in a teasing almost-kiss.

Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and in them, I see everything—trust, passion, vulnerability. ‘Then show me,’ she says, her voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks.

Her words light something inside me, a fire that burns hotter than anything I’ve felt before. My hands move down to her thighs, gripping just above her knees as I lift her effortlessly. She gasps, her legs wrapping around my waist, her hands flying to my shoulders for balance.

I continue pressing her against the wall, my mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that’s equal parts passion and possession. She melts into me, her body molding perfectly to mine as her fingers slide into my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan.

‘You’re mine, Mia,’ I say between kisses, the words spilling out before I can stop them. ‘Every laugh, every smile, every inch of you belongs to me now.’

She pulls back slightly, her eyes locking on mine, her lips swollen and glistening. ‘I’ve been yours since the day you walked onto that pickleball court,’ she whispers.

I stare at her, my heart pounding in my chest. ‘You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,’ I say, my voice rough with emotion.

Her hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing along my jaw as she leans in, her lips a breath away from mine. ‘Then let me show you how much I mean it.’

I carry her away from the wall, her legs still wrapped tightly around me as we move deeper into the apartment. The sound of our labored breathing and the occasional laugh fills the space as I maneuver us toward the couch, but she pulls me in for another kiss, and my balance falters.

We tumble onto the cushions in a tangle of limbs, her laughter bubbling up as I land half on top of her. ‘Smooth,’ she teases, her fingers trailing down my chest.

‘Planned it,’ I reply, grinning as I lean down to kiss her again. ‘Every second of it.’

Her laughter fades into a soft sigh as my lips move against hers, my hands exploring every curve, every inch of her that I’ve been aching to touch. She arches beneath me, her body responding to mine like we were made for this—made for each other.

‘Miguel,’ she breathes again, and this time, it’s a plea.

‘I’ve got you,’ I whisper, my voice steady as my hands cradle her face, my thumbs brushing her cheeks. ‘I’ll always have you.”

“Show me,” she whispers with need.

The moment deepens, the world outside her apartment fading completely as we lose ourselves in each other. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word cements the connection between us, a bond that feels unbreakable despite everything we’ve faced.

And as I look into her eyes, I know one thing for certain; I’ll do whatever it takes to keep this. To keep her.

The room feels smaller than it is, but not uncomfortable. Just… full. Full of unspoken things that we’re all trying to say. Felicity sits beside me, her little hand gripping Princess Waddles. Celine is across from me, her posture perfect, as if sitting just right can somehow make the emotions she’s working through easier to bear.

Dr. Grant glances between us, his face calm and patient. ‘Why don’t we start by addressing the elephant in the room?’

Celine raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. ‘Oh, which one? The fact that I hired Miguel’s girlfriend’s law firm out of what can only be described as a spiral of questionable judgment? Or the fire alarm that got pulled during Mia’s meltdown in said law firm?’

Felicity perks up. ‘What fire alarm?’

‘Never mind,’ Celine says quickly, waving her hand.

I rub the back of my neck, trying not to laugh. ‘Yeah, let’s not make that a bedtime story, kiddo.’

Dr. Grant chuckles, leaning forward slightly. ‘Let’s focus on what came from that, though. Celine, would you like to share how that experience shaped where you are now?’

Celine sighs, crossing one leg over the other. ‘I’ll admit, what I did wasn’t my finest moment. I was… scared. Angry. When Felicity started talking about Miss Mia all the time—how much she loved her, how great she was—I felt like I was being replaced.’ She hesitates, glancing at Felicity, who is blissfully preoccupied fixing Princess Waddles’ bow. ‘So, in a moment of panic, I decided to hire Mia’s firm. It was partly curiosity, partly insecurity, and—if I’m being honest—partly spite.’

I look at her, surprised by how easily she admits it.

‘But,’ Celine continues, her voice softening, ‘after meeting Mia and seeing how much Miguel and Felicity love her, I realized I was being unfair—to everyone, especially myself.’ She turns to Dr. Grant. ‘I worked with the firm to make things right. I apologized to Mia, explained my actions, and withdrew my account. And I’ve been working with you to deal with those feelings, to understand why I reacted the way I did.’

Dr. Grant nods approvingly. ‘That’s a big step, Celine. Acknowledging the emotions behind your actions is an important part of this process.’

Celine smiles faintly. ‘I’m trying. It’s not easy, but I want to be better for Felicity—and for you, Miguel. You deserve to have someone in your life who makes you happy, and if Mia is that person, I want to support that.’

Her voice cracks slightly, and she blinks quickly, trying to keep her tears at bay.

Felicity notices immediately. She scrambles off the couch, Princess Waddles in hand, and climbs onto Celine’s lap. ‘Mommy, don’t cry,’ she says, her little voice full of concern. ‘Miss Mia is great, but you’re the best. You’re my favorite person.’

Celine lets out a soft sob, hugging Felicity tightly. ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ she whispers. ‘I love you so much.’

I clear my throat, the moment hitting me harder than I expected.

Dr. Grant smiles, his voice lightening. ‘You know what? I think I just might have some toys.’ He stands and walks over to a closet, pulling out a box of brightly colored blocks and puzzles.

Felicity’s face lights up. ‘You do have toys!’ she exclaims, leaping off Celine’s lap and running to the box.

‘Have fun, kiddo,’ I say, watching as she dives into the pile, immediately engrossed in a castle-building project.

Dr. Grant sits back down, turning his attention to Celine and me. ‘This gives us a chance to talk more openly. Miguel, how do you feel about how Mia was introduced into Felicity’s life?’

I shift uncomfortably, running a hand through my hair. ‘Honestly? I didn’t handle it the right way. I should have talked to Celine first, given her a heads-up. But I…’ I pause, my jaw tightening. ‘I let my bitterness get in the way. I was still angry about the past, and I held that against her. I thought, if she didn’t give me a say in how our marriage ended, why should I give her a say in my new relationship?’

Celine winces, and I immediately regret my phrasing. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly. ‘I know that’s not fair. It was petty, and it wasn’t about Felicity. I should have put her first.’

Celine nods slowly, her expression unreadable. ‘I appreciate you saying that. And for what it’s worth, I understand. I didn’t make it easy for you to trust me, Miguel. And I know this wasn’t about Mia—it was about us. About the hurt we caused each other.’

Dr. Grant interjects gently. ‘It sounds like you’re both acknowledging the need for more communication and mutual respect moving forward. That’s a strong foundation to build on.’

I glance at Celine, then at Felicity, who’s deep in toy play, her little tongue sticking out as she concentrates. ‘I just want to get this right,’ I say quietly.

Celine nods, her voice soft. ‘Me too.’

For the first time in years, I feel like we’re on the same page. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one.

Dr. Grant smiles, closing his notebook. ‘That’s a good place to end for today. Felicity seems pretty happy with her toys, so take your time transitioning back into the real world.’

Celine and I both laugh softly, glancing at each other with a shared understanding. For all the chaos, this feels like a step in the right direction.

The crisp evening air greets us as we step out of Dr. Grant’s office. Felicity skips ahead, clutching Princess Waddles in one hand and a purple bouncy ball she somehow convinced Dr. Grant to let her take home in the other. Celine and I walk side by side, the silence between us not uncomfortable, but full of unspoken things.

As we reach the parking lot, Celine surprises me by stopping abruptly. She turns to face me, her expression softer than I’ve seen in a long time. ‘Miguel,’ she says, her tone careful, ‘I think we should reschedule that dinner that never happened.’

I blink, caught off guard. ‘The one at Morton’s?’

She nods. ‘Yes. We never got the chance to sit down and… just talk. Without everything blowing up.’

A slow smile spreads across my face. ‘I agree,’ I say simply.

Before either of us can say anything else, Felicity spins around, her face lighting up. ‘Come over tonight, Mommy!’ she says, her voice full of excitement.

Celine laughs nervously, glancing at me. ‘Oh, I don’t want to intrude on Daddy and Mia’s time.’

I shake my head, chuckling softly. ‘Why don’t you come over? We can have a family pizza and game night.’

Celine’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, she looks genuinely touched. ‘Are you sure?’ she asks, her voice uncertain.

‘Of course,’ I say, my voice steady. ‘Felicity would love it. And honestly? So would I.’

Celine hesitates, her gaze flickering between me and Felicity, who’s already hopping in place, chanting, ‘Pizza and games! Pizza and games!’

‘I don’t know,’ she says softly, biting her lip. ‘I just… I don’t want Mia to feel uncomfortable. Or like I’m intruding on her space.’

I smile reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. Mia will be more than happy. She meant it when she said she never wants you to feel replaced or left out. She doesn’t hold any judgment against you, Celine.’

Her shoulders relax slightly, and a small smile tugs at her lips. ‘She said that?’

‘She did,’ I confirm, my voice firm. ‘And she meant it.’

Celine takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. ‘Okay,’ she says finally. ‘Let’s do it.’

Felicity squeals with delight, running ahead toward the car. Celine and I exchange a glance, a quiet understanding passing between us.

It’s not perfect—there’s still so much to work through. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re heading in the right direction.

‘Let’s make it a good night,’ I say, holding her car door open for her.

Celine smiles, her eyes soft. ‘I think we can manage that.’

As we head toward home, Felicity’s excited chatter filling the car, I can’t help but feel a sense of hope. Whatever comes next, we’ll figure it out. Together.

The house is alive with laughter and the smell of dough and cheese. Felicity is at the counter, her tiny hands covered in flour as she carefully places pepperoni slices on her personal pizza. She’s already used half the bag, the slices arranged in a chaotic pile that vaguely resembles a smiley face.

Celine leans over, a grin on her face as she tries to redirect Felicity’s creative process. ‘Sweetheart, maybe we spread the pepperoni out a little?’

‘But I want it to look happy!’ Felicity protests, sticking her tongue out in concentration.

Mia stands next to me, her hands also dusted in flour, as she tries to roll out her dough into a circle. It’s more oval-shaped, and she keeps mumbling about how pizza shouldn’t look like a football.

‘Here,’ I say, stepping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. I place my hands over hers, guiding the rolling pin gently.

She glances up at me with a smirk. ‘Is this your move? Helping a girl with her pizza dough?’

‘Works every time,’ I reply, winking.

Celine lets out a mock gagging noise from across the counter. ‘Good grief, you two. At least wait until the pizza is in the oven.’

‘Mommy, Daddy’s always mushy with Miss Mia,’ Felicity chimes in without looking up from her masterpiece.

I glance at Mia, and we both burst out laughing.

Once the pizzas are topped—Felicity’s looking more like a pepperoni explosion than anything else—we slide them into the oven and get started on cleaning up. But somehow, ‘cleaning up’ turns into a flour fight when Felicity, giggling uncontrollably, smacks a handful of flour onto my shoulder.

‘Oh, you’re in trouble now,’ I say, grabbing a pinch of flour and tossing it lightly toward her.

Felicity shrieks with laughter and runs behind Celine for cover. ‘Save me, Mommy!’

Celine shakes her head, laughing. ‘I don’t think so. You’re on your own.’

Mia joins in, flicking a bit of flour at me before attempting to duck behind the counter. ‘Traitor,’ I say, lunging after her.

By the time the pizzas are ready, we’re all a mess—flour streaked across our clothes and faces, but no one cares. We sit around the table eating, Felicity chattering happily about her day and how Princess Waddles would probably love pizza if penguins could eat it.

As the evening winds down, Felicity’s energy starts to fade. She’s curled up on the couch, her eyes half-closed, Princess Waddles tucked under her arm.

‘Looks like someone’s ready for bed,’ I say softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Celine stands and stretches. ‘I’ll put her down,’ she offers.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask.

She nods, smiling down at Felicity. ‘Absolutely. You and Mia can handle the kitchen.’

Celine scoops Felicity up, and she sleepily murmurs, ‘Good night, Daddy. Good night, Miss Mia.’

Mia leans down to kiss her forehead. ‘Good night, sweetheart.’

I do the same, watching as Celine carries her down the hall and out of sight.

Mia and I work quietly in the kitchen, washing dishes and wiping down counters. The comfortable silence between us feels like home.

‘Are you really okay with all of this?’ Mia asks suddenly, glancing at me.

I pause, setting a plate in the drying rack. ‘Yeah. I think I am.’

She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate.

‘I’ve been carrying so much anger and bitterness for so long,’ I admit. ‘But tonight… all of us laughing together, it felt good. I think I’m finally ready to let it go.’

Mia smiles softly, leaning against the counter. ‘That’s a big step.’

‘What about you?’ I ask, turning to face her. ‘You’re the one walking into this dramatic family dynamic. Are you okay with all of it?’

She laughs, shaking her head. ‘It’s worth it. I couldn’t imagine loving you or Felicity more than I do.’

I step closer, pulling her into my arms. ‘You’re incredible, you know that?’

She grins up at me. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

I laugh, leaning down to kiss her. But just as things start to heat up, the sound of footsteps pulls us apart.

Celine steps into the kitchen, stopping mid-step when she sees us. ‘Oh, don’t stop on my account,’ she says with a smirk.

Mia laughs nervously, stepping out of my arms. ‘We were just…’

‘Cleaning,’ I finish quickly, earning a pointed look from Celine.

She chuckles, grabbing her purse. ‘I should head out. But tonight was… nice. Better than I expected, actually.’

Mia smiles. ‘I’m glad. It was a lot of fun.’

The three of us stand there for a moment, reflecting on the evening.

Celine finally breaks the silence. ‘Let’s do it again soon.’

‘Definitely,’ I say.

She glances at me, her expression softening. ‘Good night, Miguel. And thank you—for everything.’

Mia and I walk her to the door, and as she steps outside, I linger behind for a moment while Mia goes back inside.

‘Celine,’ I say, stopping her.

She turns, raising an eyebrow.

‘I just want you to know that I appreciate you,’ I say. ‘You’re an amazing mom, and Felicity’s lucky to have you. I know you and I couldn’t get everything right and god knows we screwed up enough but Felicity,” I choke back a tear, suddenly feeling emotional, “we got that right.”

Her eyes glisten slightly, and she nods. ‘Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot.’ She hesitates, then adds, ‘I’m sorry. For everything.’

I shake my head, looking down. ‘You can’t take all the blame. I know I wasn’t there for you the way I should’ve been—especially after Felicity was born. I buried myself in work, and I’m sorry for that.’

Her lips tremble, and she nods. ‘We’ve both made mistakes. But we’re here now, right? For her.’

‘For her,’ I agree.

We promise to keep things strong for Felicity before she heads out.

When I step back into the apartment, Mia is waiting, leaning against the couch with a knowing smile. ‘How’d it go?’ she asks.

I grin, pulling her into my arms. ‘It went great.’ I lean down, brushing my lips against hers. ‘Now, let’s get you ready for bed.’

“Now, let’s get you all clean and ready for bed, so that I can get you nice and filthy.”

Her eyes widen, and she smacks my arm. “You’re impossible.”

I laugh as she runs down the hall, and I chase after her, landing a playful smack on her butt.

“How about I give you the Miguel special tonight,” I wriggle my eyebrows at her.

“And what does that entail?” She says warily.

My hands slide around and down her body, settling against her ass as I pull her closest to me, her hands resting against my chest.

“It entails my lips,” I drag them up her neck, “and my tongue,” I flick her earlobe, her head falling to the side to give me better access, “having complete, unfettered access to your delicious body.”

“Oh,” she half moans, “I like the sound of that counselor.”

“Mmm,” I chuckle, low and throaty, “you know what that does to me.”

“I know.” She steps back from me, her hands lingering against my chest as she walks backward till she reaches the edge of my bed, her eyes still on mine.

“What are you doing?”

She reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. When I reach my hand out to touch her she slowly nods.

“Not yet.”

“Tease.”

“You need to learn patience.”

Her pants are next, sliding over her full hips and down her thighs, leaving in her only her bra and panties.

“That’s one thing I’m not good at.” I groan.

She turns slowly, my eyes dropping down to where her thong disappears between her cheeks. “Fuck,” I mutter, my mouth already watering at the thought of tasting her.

She places both hands down on the bed as she crawls up onto it on all fours before looking back at me over her shoulder.

“Are you ready to defile me Mr. Ramirez?”

I don’t wait for the invitation, I step forward, landing a hearty smack against the skin of her ass. She winces slightly, her body rocking forward. I pull my hand back and do it again, harder this time. I lean forward, planting a soft kiss where her stinging skin glows pink.

“You’re about to find out just how different daddy Ramirez is from the man you met at the court.”

Mia’s gasp is sharp, her back arching as I kiss the spot I just claimed. Her body quivers, her anticipation palpable in the way her breathing shifts to something shallow and erratic. I can’t help the grin that stretches across my face as I run my fingers up the back of her thighs, reveling in the way her skin prickles under my touch.

“Daddy Ramirez, huh?” she teases, though her voice is a breathless whisper. “What exactly does he⁠—”

Her words cut off as I grab her hips and pull her back against me, pressing my hardness into her. “He doesn’t take kindly to teasing,” I growl into her ear, my lips grazing her neck. She shivers beneath me, her hands gripping the bedspread tightly.

“Then maybe you should teach me better manners,” she fires back, looking over her shoulder with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Oh, I plan to.” My voice drops to a low rumble as I reach around her, sliding my hand over the curve of her stomach and lower, brushing my fingers over the thin lace barrier between us. She gasps again, her head falling forward as I press into her just enough to drive her crazy.

“Miguel,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Mmm,” I hum against her skin, trailing kisses down her spine. “You were saying?”

She doesn’t answer, but the way she pushes back against me says enough. I chuckle, withdrawing my hand just as she starts to moan in protest. “Not yet,” I say, echoing her earlier command. Her frustration is a melody I could listen to all night.

“Now who’s the tease?” she bites out, looking back at me with narrowed eyes.

I lean over her, my weight pressing her into the bed as I pin her wrists above her head. “I told you,” I murmur against her ear. “Daddy Miguel doesn’t tease. He delivers.”

Her body trembles beneath me as I slide my lips down her neck, biting gently at her shoulder. The air between us grows heavier, charged with a need we can no longer ignore.

I trail my lips down her spine, pausing to savor the soft curves of her body beneath my hands. Mia squirms beneath me, her breath hitching every time I linger too long, every time my tongue brushes against her skin.

“Still think I’m teasing?” I murmur, letting my teeth graze her lower back before pressing a kiss there.

“No,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. “Not teasing.”

I grin, dragging my palms over her thighs and pulling her hips back toward me. My thumb hooks beneath the band of her thong, sliding it down inch by agonizing inch. Mia lets out a frustrated groan, her nails digging into the bedspread.

“Patience,” I remind her, my voice rough, thick with the desire simmering between us.

“I hate you,” she mutters, but her body betrays her words. She arches her back, pushing herself toward me, her need written in every line of her posture.

“No, you don’t.” My hands slide up her thighs, spreading her open for me. I take a moment to admire her, my breathing heavy as I revel in the sight of her laid out before me, waiting, wanting.

“Are you going to keep staring, or—oh!” Her sentence cuts off in a sharp gasp as I lean down, dragging my tongue over her, slow and deliberate. Her body jerks, her hands clawing at the sheets as I take my time, savoring the taste of her.

“Miguel—” she starts, her voice desperate, and I hum against her, the vibrations drawing a breathy moan from her lips.

”Tell me what you want,” I command, my voice muffled against her skin.

Her response is immediate, raw. “You. All of you.”

I grip her thighs tighter, pulling her closer as I give her exactly what she’s begging for. Her cries grow louder, filling the room as I lose myself in her. There’s no teasing now, no holding back—just the two of us, tangled in the heat of each other, every breath, every touch, every sound building to a crescendo that leaves us both undone.

When she collapses onto the bed, trembling and breathless, I follow, wrapping her in my arms and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Still hate me?” I tease, my voice soft now, filled with satisfaction.

She laughs weakly, rolling over to face me. “I hate how much I love you.”

“Good,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

I laugh as she runs down the hall, and I chase after her, landing a playful smack on her butt as the night closes in around us, warm and perfect.