Page 76 of Billionaire's Fake Wife: A Single Mom BWWM Romance

Grant takes care of buying the bread while I look after Lauralee.

“Here you go, some bread for the ducks,” Grant says, handing Lauralee a brown bag with some bread inside.

We head for the pond, Grant holding my hand as I hold Lauralee’s.

I sigh, contentedly. This is the life. I never thought I could be this happy.

We see a lot of ducks in the pond. Lauralee runs towards the ducks. She throws pieces of bread on the ground, and the ducks start gathering around her.

She giggles as some of the feathers brush against her.

Grant decides to join her, while I sit by a tree, watching the both of them.

It warms my heart, seeing the two of them get along. The smile can’t be wiped from Lauralee’s face. She looks so happy, and I’m sure Grant feels the same way. He treats her like a princess. Sometimes, I have to reproach him for spoiling her too much. He’d just say that he’s making up for all the years Lauralee has lived without a dad. It further cemented my belief that I’ve met the right man for Lauralee and me.

They start walking in my direction. It looks like all the bread is gone.

“We finished feeding the ducks,” Lauralee says, running towards me. I chuckle.

“Slow down, sweetie,” I tell her.

“Do you want to go to the playground, princess?” Grant asks.

Lauralee’s eyes light up. “Yes!”

She runs towards the swings, “Mom, can you push me?”

I happily oblige, pushing her so that she can get enough momentum.

“Now, try to move the swing on your own with your legs,” I say.

Grant sits on the swing beside her and shows her how it’s done.

I laugh at how the great Grant Fields, playboy extraordinaire, is using a kiddie swing to teach Lauralee how to make the swing move without anyone pushing.

They both look adorable.

“Mommy! I’m doing it!” she shouts excitedly.

I chuckle, “That’s great, sweetheart.”

We stay on the swings for a bit longer, but as the sun slowly sets, we decide that it’s time to go home.

“Wait, what about ice cream?” Lauralee asks with a pout.

“We’ll stop over to get some on the way home,” Grant says, not wanting to disappoint Lauralee.

I chuckle; he is so whipped. Lauralee has him wrapped around her finger.

“What flavor do you want, princess?” Grant asks.

“Vanilla, please,” she says.

Grant buys her the ice cream. She takes the cone, eager to have the first bite.

“Slow down, sweetie. You might get sick,” I tell her.

She nods, finishing her ice cream slowly.

---