Dadcoms

Lola Penelope Caruso is my favorite person to torment. When she’s had enough of me, her freckled cheeks go rosy, her tiny hands ball into fists, and she pulls at her signature tight braid and lets down her long red hair. I thought I'd seen her at her worst when we told her she’d have to move from New York City to a dump in Jersey with our law firm. But then a six-year-old showed up at my office with a note around his neck and my smile on his face, and she had to ask: Who's your daddy?

Sloane Marie Murphy is the only woman I've ever loved. She's my favorite person, the mother of my child and my soon to be ex-wife. I've been wracking my brain trying to fix my family but when a provision in my late father's trust forces me to move my family and our law practice from New York City to a dump in Jersey I think all hope is lost. She'd rather sign the papers than move with me. Until only one night, turns into two pink lines and now my father's ridiculous trust and the heir she's currently carrying, might just save my marriage.

She was my college sweetheart. The one that got away. Now she’s back—in my office, looking like sunshine in yoga pants, and asking for my legal help. She’s back, and she brought her two daughters, who are convinced the Maine Coon cat forced upon me is some kind of Disney sidekick. (He’s not. He’s Satan with whiskers.) I’m a grumpy over-forty lawyer who lives by rules and craves routine. Jess is chaos and coconut-scented optimism. Every time she smiles, I’m twenty again—and falling harder than ever.