Forbidden Best Friend's Brother (Forbidden Small Town Bad Boys Book 5)

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Forbidden Best Friend's Brother (Forbidden Small Town Bad Boys Book 5) Page 1

by Holly Jaymes




  Forbidden Best Friend’s Brother

  Holly Jaymes

  Copyright © 2020 by Holly Jaymes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  1. Facing the Past

  2. Going Home

  3. Being Mature

  4. A Foolish Idea

  5. No Escape

  6. Serendipity

  7. Confusion

  8. Deja Vu

  9. Another Mistake

  10. Vegas Fallout

  11. Dismally Ever After

  12. Married Life

  13. Risking It All

  14. Planning the End

  15. Remember It’s Not Real

  16. Duped

  17. Yet Another Mistake

  18. Making Amends

  19. Helpless in Love

  20. The Possibility of Paradise

  21. Odd Man Out

  22. The Worst Day Of My Life

  Untitled

  23. Not a Nightmare

  24. Undeserving

  Untitled

  25. Making My Case

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About Holly Jaymes

  Also by Holly Jaymes

  Introduction

  I accidentally married my best friend’s brother.

  Pax Ryder is the reclusive, sexy as hell rockstar that every woman in the world wants…except me.

  I learned my lesson six years ago, when after a perfect romantic night, he told his sister—my best friend—that I was a mistake.

  You know what they say…once bitten twice shy.

  So when I ran into him again at my best friend’s wedding, I did all I could to avoid him.

  But then he kissed me in the moonlight by the lake, confusing my senses.

  And then he showed up in Vegas, crashing my business dinner and insinuating himself into my life again.

  In a moment of weakness, I let him touch me in the way that only Pax could, and now I’m his wife and I’m headed for a fake honeymoon...

  I let him touch me in the hot tub…in the shower...and in the bed.

  The question is, what do we do now that this fake marriage is starting to feel real?

  Prologue

  Victoria

  The wheels of the plane hit the runway and broke hard, jerking me awake. I looked out the first-class seat window. London, here I am.

  I checked my watch sent to me for free by a designer watchmaker to show off on my Instagram feed. It was seven in the morning. Back in California, where I lived, it was still yesterday, the day before my birthday. Not just any birthday. My twenty-first birthday.

  Back in the United States, turning twenty-one was a bigger deal than here in London, where the drinking age was eighteen. My family offered to throw me a party at home. I had friends who said they’d take me drinking. But I wanted to spend my twenty-first birthday with my best friend, Lily Maddox. The problem was, to spend time with Lily meant I needed to go wherever she was. Having followed in her mother’s footsteps and become a model, she was often out of state or out of the country. No worries. I was fortunate that I came from an affluent family that still gave me a sizable allowance. Not that I was a total slacker. I earned a fairly decent income simply by being me on social media. Not only did I get paid by companies to use or endorse their products, but I also got a lot of free stuff. Too much really. Most of it I donated to women’s groups, shelters, and other places where I felt women could better use the clothes, makeup, accessories, and health goods I was often sent.

  I pulled my purse out and opened my compact. I definitely looked like I’d been sleeping on a plane, so I did my best to freshen up as the plane pulled up to the gate. I couldn’t wait to see Lily and spend the day with her shopping and laughing, and of course having a drink or two, although they would be my first. And if I saw her brother Paxton, well, that would be icing on the cake. Not that I’d tell her that. A few years back, when I realized Paxton was a hottie and not a bore, I mentioned it to her.

  “Has Pax been working out?” I’d asked her the last time I saw them together when we were seventeen and they, along with their mother, were staying with my family at the house in Malibu.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  He was walking out of the ocean, his swim trunks riding low, and his chest sculpted, his abs showing at least four, if not six, packs. All my girlie parts flared to life.

  “Because he looks hot,” I said.

  “Ew.” Lily made a face. “He’s my brother.”

  “He’s not my brother,” I said as he passed us, heading to the house. I craned my head to see if he was as hot going as he’d been coming. Yep. He had a strong back and hard ass.

  “Stop ogling my brother. That’s disgusting.”

  “Why?” I finally lost sight of him as he entered the house.

  “Because. He’s my brother. You’re my friend. Don’t mess it all up by drooling over my brother.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

  So, I’d never said anything more. Of course, I hadn’t seen him again after that. He and Lily traveled with their mother all through their childhood, but when he turned eighteen, he told his mom he wasn’t traveling anymore. He wanted to live in one place. At the time, they were in London, where he’d lived since.

  Like me, Lily and Pax had family money. While Lily modeled, making her own small fortune, my sense from her was that Pax played his guitar all day, sometimes making money from it, but mostly not.

  I departed the plane, got my bag and made my way through customs. I pulled out my phone to find out where I should meet Lily.

  “So, so, sorry. I’m stuck in Paris. Pax will meet you out front. I hope to be there tomorrow afternoon. Happy birthday!!!”

  Darn. It wasn’t the first time Lily was late or had to reschedule, but I’d been looking forward to today.

  I rolled my bag behind me as I headed out of the airport, hoping Pax looked similar enough that I’d recognize him.

  “Vic.”

  Ugh. I hated being called Vic. He knew it too. I turned to his voice, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but my words stalled in my throat. Good golly, did he look that hot four years ago? I didn’t think so.

  He gave me a lopsided smile. “I thought you hated being called Vic.”

  I cleared my throat. “Is that you, Pax?” I said, trying to fall into the sibling-like relationship we’d had before. “I hardly recognize you. You used to be cuter.”

  He rolled his eyes and gave me a hug. Cripes, did he smell that good back then too?

  “Happy birthday. It’s good to see you. Did Lily ring you?”

  “Yes,” I smirked. “Ring? You’re speaking British now?”

  He shrugged as he took my bag and led me to a waiting car. “When in Rome.”

  “Or London.” I slid into the car’s back seat and he joined me, telling the driver the address of the flat his family owned, but he lived in.

  “I know I’m not who you wanted to spend the day with, but I’m here. Lily said to show you the sights and take you drinking.”

  All of a sudden, my disappointment at Lily being MIA wasn’t so bad. “You’re going to spend my birthday with me?”

  “Well, unless you want to spend it alone, yes.”

  I guessed he
didn’t have a job. Then again, he didn’t need one. His mother, supermodel Madaline LeCoeur had money. So did Lily.

  “We’d planned to go shopping,” I said.

  He grimaced. Pax had never been one for shopping. Or sightseeing. Mostly he didn’t like crowds unless it involved music, and even then, he preferred small clubs. “I promised Lily I’d take care of you, so…shopping it is, I guess.”

  I laughed. “Your life is so hard, Pax.”

  “Don’t I know it. But there’s more to London than Harrods and Piccadilly Circus.” I wondered if he thought I was too shallow. I did like to shop and do girlie things, but that didn’t mean I was vapid. “We’ll drop your stuff off first. Do you want to nap or something? How’s the jetlag?” he asked me.

  “Not bad. I flew from LA to New York, but I spent a couple of days there before coming here. I slept on the plane, so I feel pretty good.”

  In the ride to the flat, I took in the sights from the car and realized that if I dragged Pax to all the outings that I’d planned to do with Lily, he’d be bored and Lily and I wouldn’t have anything to do tomorrow.

  “Do you know all of the off-the-beaten-path things to do here?” I asked.

  “I know a few.”

  “Then let’s do that today.”

  His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “But it’s your birthday. We need to do what you want.”

  “I want to see the off-the-beaten-path sights. Don’t disappoint me, Pax.”

  “I always try not to.”

  When we got to the flat, he showed me to the room I’d share with Lily when she arrived tomorrow afternoon. I took a shower and changed, and then was ready to greet the day.

  “What’s first?” I asked Pax, his gaze wandering over my outfit of a summer dress, white jean-jacket and a fun hat. I wondered if he thought I looked immature or silly.

  “How about food?”

  My stomach growled. “Yes, food.” We had a full English breakfast and then set off to find all the great non-touristy sights in London. There were a lot, and each one we went to, I was gladder that I’d chosen this activity. Pax was normally an introvert but he was quite outgoing as he showed me around the city.

  We saw everything from the Chelsea Physic Garden to the MI6 building I recognized from Bond movies. We had lunch at Pop Brixton. Pax seemed quite at home at the hipster shopping and eating area designed to support local businesses. As we sat and ate a lunch of fish and chips, of course, a song came on in the background. A smile spread on Pax’s face as he dunked his fish in vinegar.

  “Did you get laid to this song or something?” I asked, sitting across from him.

  He looked up “What?”

  “You’re smiling like you’re having a good memory about this song.”

  “And you think that good memory is getting laid?” He quirked a brow.

  “You’re a guy. Good memories for guys involve getting laid.”

  “Not always,” he quipped which made me wonder if he had a bad break-up recently. “No. I never fucked during this song.”

  My insides flared to life as I realized I’d never heard him use the f-word before. It was quite titillating.

  “So, what’s with the song?” I asked.

  He leaned forward, like it was a secret. “I wrote it.”

  “What?” He sat back. “You wrote this?” I tilted my head so I could hear it better. It was a catchy tune that seemed the perfect blend of indie rock and pop. And it was being sung by an artist I recognized. Not huge, like Beyoncé or Taylor Swift, but still well enough known. I turned to look back at him. “Why?”

  “Why what?” he asked, looking offended.

  “Why didn’t you just record it yourself?”

  “Because I’m not a well-known artist. The producer wanted the song, not me.”

  “You’d be well-known if you recorded it.” He looked at me like I’d given him a gift. “No joking, Pax. This song is wonderful. You shouldn’t give away-”

  “I sold it. I get royalties.”

  I laughed. “So, I’m hearing a great song, and you’re hearing cha-ching.”

  He smiled in amusement. “Yes. Something like that.”

  Later, we walked through a farmer’s market. I stopped by a vendor making and selling organic skincare.

  “That’s probably better than the goop you peddle on your Instagram,” Pax quipped.

  I glared at him, at the same time wondering if he often checked out my Instagram feed. “I’ll have you know I don’t peddle bad goop, I pointed out. ” He grinned. “But I do sometimes think it has too much unnecessary stuff in it. Don’t tell anyone, but often I make my own.”

  He arched a brow. “You make your own goop?”

  “All you need is stuff usually found around the house. Sugar. Coconut oil. Honey. Milk.”

  “Why don’t you make it and sell it yourself instead of pushing other companies? You’d make more, wouldn’t you?”

  I hadn’t really thought of it. “Except I’d have to have manufacturing and distribution and all that stuff.”

  “So? It’s not like it can’t be done. And you probably have the resources.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I never thought about it.”

  We continued on visiting the sky garden which had a breathtaking view of the city, the painted hall, and Waterloo Vaults, crisscrossing the city and its outer limits.

  By the time the sun was setting, I felt like I’d lived a lifetime and seen a lifetime worth of sights. I was also realizing that there was more to Pax than a lopsided smile and a guitar. He was exactly the type of guy I’d set my sights on at home, but the memory of Lily’s response to my interest in him kept me in check.

  “What’s next?” I asked as we finished admiring the colorful graffiti tunnel of the Waterloo Vaults.

  “Well, it is your twenty-first birthday.”

  “Clowns and balloons?”

  He smirked. “How about a secret bar?”

  “Ooh, yes.”

  We took a car and arrived at a normal-looking fish and chips place.

  “This doesn’t look like a secret bar.” I tried not to sound too disappointed. The rest of the day had been perfect.

  “Ah, patience, my birthday girl.” He held the door open for me.

  We walked to the counter where a young man stood to take orders.

  “We’re here to see the prince.” Pax said.

  The guy at the counter smiled. “Come with me.”

  We followed him back down a hall and into a room with a gargantuan freezer. He pulled the handle but instead of a freezer interior, it was the door to stairs leading down.

  “Oh my gosh,” I said as we walked into the freezer and down the stairs. “I’ve been to something like this in New York.”

  “New York isn’t the only place for cool, hip spots,” Pax said. “It just thinks it is.”

  “I thought that was Paris,” I quipped.

  “That too.” Pax found us a table, and we ordered drinks.

  I sat back and smiled, feeling quite content and happy. “This is a great birthday.”

  “I’m glad. I know you’d have preferred to be with Lily.”

  I looked at him. “I don’t know. This has been really fun. Thank you, Pax.”

  Our drinks arrived and we clinked our glasses. “Happy birthday, Victoria.”

  “Is this the kind of thing you do with your girlfriends?” I asked. I knew it was dumb. I couldn’t be with him without risking my friendship with Lily, but I had to know if he was taken.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been on a couple dates to the gardens around town and of course some clubs.”

  “Will she be mad you’re with me?”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Your current squeeze.”

  He shook his head. “There’s no squeeze. How about you? Is your boyfriend annoyed you’re spending your birthday abroad?”

  “No boyfriend. Not since he decided to screw someone else.”

  Pax winced. “Sorry.”
<
br />   “I’m not. It was well past its overdue date.”

  “So not true love, huh?”

  “No.” I took another sip. “Do you believe in that? True love? That song you sold did.”

  “I don’t know. My parents love each other still, but haven’t been married for over a decade.”

  I knew of his and Lily’s parents. Their mother was a supermodel, while their father was a small-town regular guy working law enforcement. In fact, I thought she said he’d recently gotten the sheriff’s position in the mountain resort town of Eden Lake, east of San Bernardino.

  “My parents are still together. But I don’t see passion in them. Do you suppose that goes away?” I asked Pax.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve ever really been in love.”

  I finished my drink and he ordered more. “That’s sad.”

  “So, you’ve been in love?”

  I laughed at myself. “I think so. I mean, I’ve had strong feelings for someone-”

  “That’s lust,” he quipped.

  “Maybe.”

  We continued to drink and talk, and it was really nice. At one point he ordered me a drink with whipped cream on it and sang me happy birthday. He really did have a wonderful voice. Whoever bought his song was missing out on a big star by not signing him.

  “You have whipped cream on your mouth,” he said.

  I tried to wipe it.

  “Other side.” He leaned over toward me. He put his thumb on my lower lip and drew it across, making every neuron in my body fire up. I’d gone from languid with booze to feeling like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket.

  My gaze snapped to his, as the world spun away and there was just him and crazy electric energy snapping between us. His eyes caught mine, and in his blue, nearly violet eyes, I saw the same surprise as I felt. We just sat there for the longest time, until I was chanting in my head for him to either kiss me or disengage. No, kiss me. That’s what I want.

 

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