by Ray, Marika
His face transformed into that smile I loved, the dimples winking at me, quite like those stars I saw. He held out his hand and I took it, letting him help me up and lead us back into the house where we’d make a life together, one adventure at a time.
Preferably without cameras.
Epilogue
Lucille
Ah, weddings. Supposed to be such a happy union where two people come together and promise in front of family and friends to love each other forever, forsaking all others.
I thought it was a load of baloney, if you asked me. Which no one ever did. You see, I was a pariah of sorts. In this modern day and age, I was an old maid, but it was hardly PC to call me that, so most people just didn’t call me at all. Or text. Thirty-six was hardly old, but I knew it had more to do with the way I carried myself. I wasn’t what you’d call “fashionable” or “young at heart” or “fun.”
I was also still a virgin.
Boom. There. I said it. Can we move on now?
I was invited to weddings constantly by my older sister, Lavender, probably because John would never go with her. Fan emergency down at the factory, every stinking time. I thought that was a load of baloney too, but hey, it wasn’t my marriage to endure for the rest of time. I think she secretly hoped to auction me off to any single men in attendance while they were soft around the edges due to the romantic nature of weddings.
So there I was, witnessing Lavender’s friend Gabby marrying some hot ginger of a man named Rhett who looked like a grown up frat boy with a constant twinkle in his eye. Those two were cute as a button up there at the altar with two ring bearers and a flower girl flanking them. I may have had something in my eye when Rhett nearly broke down at the sight of Gabby at the end of the aisle walking toward him at a surprising clip. She was a stunner herself with that jet-black hair, white dress, and deep red rose bouquet. And good Lord, did she have a booty to rival that one family on television the teenagers obsessed over.
The vows had us all in stitches. The tears were flowing unashamedly. The kiss at the end was what romance movies were made of. The recessional was set to a peppy New Kids on the Block song. I mean, it really was convincing. I may have even briefly questioned my belief on the whole marriage and a baby carriage thing.
I wasn’t bitter, per se. I was realistic.
In my line of work, you saw a lot of pieces of work. Skepticism became a healthy mechanism for survival.
“Lucille! Come meet my friend Gabby.” Lavender tugged me forward and thrust me in front of the bride. She had on a radiant smile and flushed cheeks, looking every bit the blushing bride.
“Gabby, this is my little sister Lucille.” Lavender did the introductions and I reached out to shake Gabby’s hand. Her nails were bright red, not the usual color for a bride, but beautiful nonetheless.
“Congratulations on your marriage. Thank you so much for having me today.” I nodded regally. It wasn’t her fault I’d been strong-armed into coming by a strong-willed sister.
“I’m so happy to meet you, Lucille. How come I haven’t met you before?”
I waved my hand through the air breezily. “Oh, I work up in Northern California, so I don’t get down here that often.”
“Oh? What do you do?” Gabby leaned in.
The blush hit my own cheeks. This was always such an intricate conversation. Be truthful and shock everyone? Or lie and be boring like they expected of me? I was sure you could guess which direction I normally chose.
Just then something brushed against my hip, not an area that saw much action, so naturally I was startled. Looking down, I found a farm animal staring up at me with remarkably human eyes. I wasn’t fanciful by any means, but if I was, I’d said he was daring me.
Listen, I back down from a lot of things, but never a goat challenge.
I looked back up at Gabby—who didn’t seem surprised at all by the interruption of a goat at a wedding reception. In fact, she petted his horned little head—and felt a frisson of something breathtaking and toe-curling travel up my body.
“I run a spank bank.”
Boom. There it was, out in the open, floating along the sound waves for anyone to pick up on. I could hardly believe I’d uttered the words.
Gabby hiccupped loudly and then burst into giggles. Lavender looked at me askance, probably thinking I needed a hug to soothe myself out of my crazy mood. Billy the Goat gave me a respectful head nod as if to say “well done, young lass.”
“A-a what?” Gabby was gasping for air, tears threatening to do more damage to her makeup than all the crying during the ceremony.
I felt a little dizzy, maybe even a little high on honesty. Weed was legal here, but telling the truth was all I seemed to need for a good time.
“Well, I’m a nurse, you see, and I run a sperm bank in Hell.”
Gabby bent over with a renewed peal of laughter, hand to her stomach, nothing but a wheeze drifting up. Rhett walked up to her and introduced himself while Gabby got herself together. I surely didn’t mind shaking that man’s hand. I wondered if he had freckles anywhere else besides his cheekbones.
Is it hot out here?
“Babe. Lucille runs a spank bank in Hell.” Gabby grabbed Rhett’s arm and got him up to speed between fits of laughter.
“Like hell hell?” he asked, face all twisted up and surprisingly, even more handsome.
“That’s what we NorCal people call it. It’s actually Auburn Hill, California. Add a little country twang to it, shorten it, and boom, you now live in Hell.” I smiled, truly enjoying myself for once. “So, if you ever have fertility issues, you just let me know and I can fix you right up.”
Rhett went a little pale under his tan like most men did when we talked about the family jewels not being worth much.
Gabby leaned in, whispering, “Considering the test I took yesterday, I think we’re all good in that department.”
“Gabby?” Lavender gasped.
Gabby nodded, her smile taking over her face. The two women hugged and I eyed Rhett’s jewels.
“Well done, fellas,” I told them. You had to remember, I dealt with penises and sperm all day long. Totally normal to talk to them.
Rhett moved his hand to cover his fly and edged closer to Gabby.
“Actually, Lucille, I have a television director friend who might be interested in your business. Do you mind if I give him your name and number?” Gabby seemed sincere, which made me feel like accepting.
“Sure, sure. I mean, they’d have to blur a lot of things out, but the place is a hotbed of crazy stories. You won’t believe the number of times we catch women stealing the samples!”
Gabby, Rhett, and Lavender burst out laughing again and I rode the high.
The high of having fun.
The high of speaking the truth for once.
The high of being the center of attention.
Shoot, maybe I’d be getting myself a goat once I got home. These goat challenges were powerful indeed. Maybe the next one could challenge me to find a boyfriend to break this thirty-six-year dry spell.
Not sure what kind of man I’d find in Hell, but I was up for the challenge.
Love Bank, book #1 in the Jobs From Hell series, coming February 2020. Grab it on preorder now!
**And if you’d like a sneak peek into my urban fantasy novel, releasing October 15th, keep reading!!
Note From the Author
Thank you so much for reading Desperately Seeking Househusband! If you loved it, please support the series by leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads so other readers can find it and enjoy it too. Reviews help other readers determine if a book is to their liking and they help indie authors sell more books so we can keep writing. If you hated it, please disregard this entire paragraph. : )
If you'd like to know more about me or the other novels that I'm writing, please come stalk find me on Facebook, or my private Reader Group, or you can find me in-person, on the beach in Southern California, frolicking like a Baywatch babe.
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Reading Order
Steamy RomComs:
Happy New You
The Missing Ingredient - Reality of Love #1
Mom-Com - Reality of Love #2
Desperately Seeking Househusband - Reality of Love #3
Sweet Romances:
The Marriage Sham
The Widower’s Girlfriend-Faking It #1
Home Run Fiancé - Faking It #2
Guarding the Princess - Faking It #3 - November 2019
Beach Squad Series/Steamy Beach Romance:
1) Sweet Dreams
2) Beach B!tch
3) Barefoot Chaos
* Novella - Handcuffed Hussy
4) Beach Bum Billion-Heiress
5) Brighter Than the Boss
* Novella - Christmas Eve Do-Over
Urban Fantasy Trilogy:
1) The Cult Queen (as part of the Prophesy of Magic anthology) - PreOrder Now for 99cents!
Sneak Peek of The Cult Queen
A new urban fantasy by Marika Ray, releasing October 15th, inside the Prophecy of Magic anthology for a limited time. Preorder for only 99cents now!
She was born to lead the cult, but everything she’s grown up believing is a lie.
Alithea Capo was only looking for a little excitement as an investigative reporter for the local newspaper right out of high school. She had no idea she was about to stumble upon an ancient underground cult full of Magics.
And to discover she’s the most powerful Magic of all.
While called upon to gather fellow Magics and defeat the government agency dead set on eradicating them from the earth, Ali must decide if she can trust the Elders her dead father left as her faithful advisors or the mentor who encouraged her to embrace her gift. Or does she trust the gray-eyed son of one of the Elders who competes for her position, yet helps her at every turn with a brooding look that sets her on fire? Everyone has an agenda and Ali’s not sure who to align herself with.
Can she believe in herself enough to unite her people, defeat their enemies, and move into a new era where Magics and humans coexist in harmony? Or will she fall to the same fate as her parents and join them in the afterlife?
*****
CHAPTER ONE
Stealing down the empty street, I cursed the scratchy black turtleneck I wore to blend in with the night. This adventure really went above and beyond the duty of an investigative reporter in a small town, but I was determined to work my way out of this sleepy beach town and back north into Los Angeles, my old stomping grounds.
The sliver of a moon in the cloudy sky gave off a weak glow of light, just enough for me to see a few feet into the window of the old burger joint that had gone out of business decades before. I didn’t see nor hear anyone, but my source had sworn on her life some bad things were going down here tonight. I wouldn’t doubt it, not only because she was a reliable source, but also because I was currently alone in the worst part of town. The section not even the drugged out homeless went for fear of never seeing the light of day.
If Grandfather knew what I was up to, he’d have me pulled off the desk so fast my head would spin. Never mind that he wasn’t actually my grandfather. He owned the damn newspaper and I was lucky he gave me a chance as a young eighteen-year-old with little experience. So far this job in a rinky-dink town wasn’t turning out to be dangerous at all, which was probably why he gave it to me.
Well, barring tonight’s surveillance.
The thick wind off the ocean whistled as it blew down the alley, the air quite cool for late spring in California. I pressed in closer to the brick exterior and cursed my decision not to tie back my long blond hair. I was a naturally curious girl, driving my parents to distraction with my constant questions and pondering of insignificant details. Maybe it had to do with my being adopted. I had so many blanks in my past, I felt compelled to understand everything going on around me to provide the stability I intrinsically lacked. I’m sure some therapist would have a field day with my brain. Especially when I told him about my recurring dreams.
After ten minutes, I started shivering. After twenty, my calves began cramping up from lifting up onto my toes every few seconds to check the activity inside the old building. By sixty minutes, I was resigned to this adventure being a bust.
Maybe I got the day wrong. Either way, I was careful to check my surroundings while rushing the three blocks to my old, beat-up Honda. Just as I reached the door on the driver’s side, a shiver ran up my back and I stopped still as a statue to listen.
I heard nothing distinctive behind me, yet I knew something, or someone, was out there watching me. I’d bet my life on it.
I hustled to unlock the door and climbed in, locking it behind me and turning over the engine. The old thing made quite the racket in the still of the night. Not that there was anyone around to really hear it. All these buildings were mostly abandoned. According to Bob, the editor at the newspaper I worked for, the City of Huntington Beach had been in talks for years to clean up this area of town. So far, investors weren’t interested and the place continued to be an eyesore for the city and a haven for the underbelly of society to run amok.
As I peeled out on the empty street and headed home to the apartment I shared with my best friend, Bondi, I slumped in my seat. I really wished I’d uncovered something juicy tonight. The entire purpose of my job for the Surf City Daily was to investigate leads and sniff out drama that would inspire the good citizens of HB to buy the paper. Honestly, the thin little thing was pretty sad compared to the stacked LA Times I was used to growing up.
I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I wasn’t. I was damn proud of my position with the newspaper. Show me any other eighteen-year-old holding down a job as an investigative reporter for a legit newspaper.
Just a block away from my apartment I saw someone on the street, just off the curb, shuffling along in the dark. The homeless problem had gotten seriously out of hand all over California in the last few years, so it took me a second glance as I drove by to realize it was a beautiful woman, dressed in an outfit from the days of cowboys and shoot-’em-ups and horse-drawn buggies. My foot hit the brake and I went to make a U-turn in the middle of the road to head back in her direction. But the minute I took my eye off her to check there were no other cars on the road, I couldn’t find her.
She was gone.
I pulled up to the curb and idled, looking all over to spot her. But just like that, not a trace of her was left.
I blinked and then rubbed my eyes. My dash told me it was nearly two in the morning. I had to get home and get some sleep. I was officially seeing things. I parked as close to my building as I could, being extra quiet so I wouldn’t wake Bondi as I entered our apartment. I’d known that girl since kindergarten and she sure did love her sleep.
Getting ready for bed, I took my phone out of my bag and went to plug it in to charge overnight. I saw a text message from my mom, saying she hadn’t seen me in a while and asked if I wanted to come over soon. I made a mental note to call her in the morning and schedule some time. My adoptive parents only lived twenty miles away in Los Angeles, but with SoCal traffic, that could be either twenty minutes or an hour in the car.
The next morning, I woke up to Bondi swinging open my bedroom door. The thing creaked all the way until it hit the wall, but I doubted calling the building supervisor would result in it getting fixed. Leaking pipes? Definite fix. Squeaky door? Not so much. I’d just have to live with it.
I cracked open both eyes and sat
up in bed only because she had a steaming cup of coffee for me in her hands.
“So…? How did last night go?” Bondi’s face lit up with an eager smile. She was already dressed for work, her dark hair up in a huge bun on top of her head.
The girl’s enthusiasm was infectious, even on only a few hours of sleep. I’d known her so long, it felt like we were sisters. We looked nothing alike with my blond hair, long legs, and light eyes, but that never mattered to us. We knew everything about each other and were determined to go through life by each other’s side.
I ran a hand through my hair to push it off my face. “Well, I caught a drug deal going down.”
“No!”
Her jaw dropped open comically and she sat down hard on my bed, nearly spilling the coffee she was still holding. I grabbed it out of her hands and took a sip of the precious liquid before she could dump it all over me.
I barked out a laugh. “I’m kidding. I got nothing. No people, no nefarious dealings, not even a scuffle amongst some errant teens.”
“Oh my God, you scared me.” Bondi slapped my knee, but I was so buried in the comforter I couldn’t feel it.
I set my coffee down on my nightstand and flopped back onto my bed. “It was so boring, Bondi,” I wailed. “I was so ready to actually catch someone doing something illegal and have something exciting to write about. I’m so sick of covering stupid stories like stolen bicycles or homeless camps in residential areas. I want something juicy to report, you know?”
“Ali, you and I both know you’ll pee your pants the first time you actually find something dangerous.”