Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11)
Page 19
She glanced up, but he was looking at Brad, smiling in that paternalistic, older brother way he just exuded.
“For the record, Mom just told me she’s not going to worry about you anymore.”
Brad went still, so still.
Then his body relaxed, a long sigh escaping him, and he clapped Jaime on the shoulder. “Love you, bro.”
“Love you, too.” Jaime nodded, and after Kate popped her head into the hall, he hustled into the dining room.
“What was that about?” Heidi whispered as they followed him.
He slowed down, tugging her to a halt with him. “That—”
“Ticket to Ride!” Marabelle called from the dining room.
His lips curved up into that special, slow, sexy smile that he reserved only for her.
“I’ll tell you—”
“Now!”
Lips on hers for the briefest moment. “Some other time.”
Heidi’s heart grew another size. “Sometime in our long, happy future together?”
Another smile—this one hot, tinged with sweet. “Yes.”
Marabelle’s head poked in through the opening. “Ticket—”
“To ride!” they finished in unison.
And then they went into the kitchen. To finally play that board game.
On a night that felt extraordinary, but would become commonplace as the years went by, her heart growing and growing until it seemed to take up all the space in her body.
But that wasn’t scary any longer. All the love she felt for them made her stronger, instead of weaker, built her up instead of tore her down.
Because she had her family—the one she’d made, the one she’d chosen.
And she had this man.
Who’d turned normal into extraordinary.
Epilogue
Brad, six months later
Pink-painted nails digging into pale white sand.
A lusciously curved body curled up next to his.
A paperback propped on his chest as she read her latest historical romance.
It was funny, but in all his travels, he had never been one for sitting on a beach all day, having cocktails delivered at his elbow, the hot sun shining down through an umbrella overhead.
But with Heidi at his side like this, he was hard-pressed to picture another type of vacation.
Of course, it might also be the sex.
He could now say with complete authority that he didn’t mind getting sand into all sorts of crevices when it meant that he could be with this woman.
Tomorrow they would be going back home to the Bay Area, to Heidi’s condo with his newly finished—and exceptionally organized thanks to his woman—office, and they’d be heading back to reality.
Except, reality was . . . heaven.
So they might be leaving the gorgeous beach and warm sand. They wouldn’t have cocktails delivered to their cabana, left at their sides by friendly attendants. They’d be back in the fog, in the traffic, in the long hours at the lab and long hours behind a computer.
But they’d also be going back to movie nights and popcorn, to coffee while cuddled up in bed, and blustery trips to the beach.
They’d be going back to the life they’d built.
The huge, wonderful, amazing life they’d built.
Only . . . Heidi didn’t know it, but she would be going back with one additional souvenir.
The diamond ring currently taking up space in his pocket because he hadn’t been able to let it out of his sight.
He had it planned for dinner. He’d made all the arrangements, a moonlight stroll on the beach, a private dinner at a table perched just above the waves. They’d have the stars and the moon, and then he’d get down on one knee and—
“I was thinking.”
Blinking, he glanced down at her, at the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand, who was so fucking strong and smart and beautiful, and smiled. “About what?”
She set her book down, shifted so she could rest her chin on her folded arms that sat on his chest. Then she smiled.
And damn if his heart still didn’t skip a beat.
“Uh-oh,” he teased. “That’s a very calculating look. What am I about to get myself into?”
A splash of pink on her cheeks. “I was thinking.”
He smirked. “You said that already. Thinking about what?”
“Well, our flight home connects through Vegas,” she said. “So, I thought we could extend our trip for one more day and . . .”
“Go gambling?”
She sighed, narrowed her eyes at him. “Brad,” she warned.
“What?” he asked innocently.
She huffed. “We could do the most Vegas-y thing ever and take a page out of Kels and Tanner’s book—”
And then he decided to forget the dinner, forget the moonlight and crashing waves and proposal under the stars. Placing a finger over her lips, he used his other hand to reach into his pocket.
He didn’t skip the one knee—which required him to do a fair amount of maneuvering, he had to admit—but then she was sitting up and he was on one knee, and he had the ring box open.
“Heidi, my love, my heart, my everything—”
“Yes!”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest. “I haven’t even asked you yet.”
“You don’t have to.” She launched herself into his arms, making him fumble to grab her, hold on to the ring, and not end up on his ass. He was only successful in two of the three, but since they were the most important two, he didn’t mind the sand getting up his swim trunks. Especially when she said, “The answer to any question you ask me will always be yes.”
“Any?” he asked, tugging at a strand of her hair. “Are you sure you want to commit to that?”
A glare. “Stop teasing and kiss me.”
“In a minute,” he said, then looked deeply into those beautiful hazel eyes and asked her the most important question of his life. “Heidi Greene, will you marry me?”
Her expression gentled. “Yes, baby. I will.” A beat, her lips curving. “Now, will you kiss me already?”
He smiled, cupped her cheek. “One more thing first.”
A mock-annoyed huff.
Then a smile when he slipped the ring on her finger.
And then he kissed her.
“So, Vegas?” she asked when they broke for air, breath coming in rapid bursts. “Want to hit up a chapel with me?”
He wanted nothing more.
But . . . “Don’t you want to have a big wedding with the giant dress and the bridesmaids and the hundreds of guests?”
She shuddered. “No. I just want you.”
“What about your friends?” he asked, wanting to marry her more than anything but also wanting to make sure she had everything she had ever dreamed of. “Don’t you want them to be part of your wedding?”
Fingers on his jaw, her mouth very close to his. “Honey,” she said. “I never fantasized about having a big wedding with the white, puffy dress and the bouquet and the multi-tiered wedding cake”—a smile he could practically taste, her lips were so near—“that can be knocked over by an errant groomsman—”
“It was the Fuzz.”
A brush of her mouth across his. “Sure, it was.” Another. “But cocks aside”—she grinned, and he snorted—“what I’m trying to tell you is that all I’ve ever dreamed of is finding a person who loves me for who I am, someone who I’m not afraid to let close because they would see my flaws and understand that they are just another piece of me to appreciate.” She straightened, her eyes growing damp. “And you’re that person. You’re the one who’s made me see that I was worthy of all that . . . and so much more. You’re the one who gave me more than I could ever imagine, so”—she cupped his jaw—“know that I love you, honey, and I want to marry you so fucking much. In fact, the only thing I want to do slightly more is to make babies with you.”
His heart, fuck, it squeezed tight, so much emotion coiling in his stomach that
it took his breath away.
“You want babies?”
She nodded.
Thud-thud.
Thud-thud.
Thud-thud.
He stood, tugging her to her feet.
“What’s the matter?” she asked as he started dragging her across the sand. “Brad!”
He turned back, swept her into his arms. “We need to get started.”
“Packing?”
A slow shake of his head. “No, sweetheart. On the babies.”
She laughed, wrapped her arms around him. “That sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”
He waggled his brows. “The best—”
She kissed him.
Then he got to work on that best idea.
Epilogue
Part Two
Stef
She loved San Francisco.
She loved her friends—well the ones she’d made in the last six months, not the jerkwads who’d all but abandoned her after she and Jeremy had broken up.
What she didn’t love?
The lack of sex in her life.
Sure, she had her drawer of friendly vibrators, but . . . it wasn’t the same.
Okay, sometimes it was better.
But oftentimes it was . . . well, a bit lacking. She wanted a hot, hard, strong body poised on top of her. She wanted a man to pick her up and pin her to a wall, pounding deep and hard and—
Hard.
The trouble was that there weren’t a lot of men who were interested in a frumpy scientist who had an obsession with Stargate.
Which was why she was lying in bed wearing her favorite cozy pajamas and trying to work up the urge to . . . swipe right.
Because the man on the app was gorgeous.
When she’d first seen him, her vagina had jumped up, doing a happy dance—complete with pasties and sparklers and a skimpy thong. Well, not so much skimpy because skimpy and her body type didn’t mix, but she’d at least slip into some high-cut bikini bottoms, and she’d definitely shave her legs.
“Just do it,” she whispered.
But the problem with swiping right was that this beautiful man with the sexiest smile she’d ever laid eyes on would invariably swipe left on her picture, and she’d still be here, lying in bed, in her pajamas, and reaching for her vibrator instead of the man himself.
Le sigh.
“No,” she muttered. “No men.”
She tossed her phone on the mattress, hit play on her show, and settled in with her glass of wine and her sexy, just as fictional as the man in the app, Colonel Jack O’Neill.
See?
Her life was full.
She had good friends. She had good vibrators. She had a good job.
She had a great dog.
“I don’t need anything else, do I, Fred?”
Her fluffy friend, with his adorable golden retriever face and his fuzzy tail, glanced up at her. He was exhausted after a long day of hiking and currently curled up in the space where her imaginary man might reside.
Another see?
Because she didn’t have room for the app man, any more than she had room for that fictional colonel.
It was her and Fred and her bottle of wine.
That was good enough.
Except . . . it wasn’t good enough when she finished that wine, and her mind got thinking, and her reserve disappeared into the wind.
It wasn’t good enough when she used her slightly drunk coordination to pick up her cell, and her slightly drunk lack of inhibition to . . . swipe right.
Bleary eyes shutting, she let her arm drop to the bed, the phone slipping out of her grip, sleep claiming her fast and heavily.
And in the morning? When she’d almost forgotten about the fictional man and her drunk swiping . . .
Well, in the morning, she woke up and saw—
He’d swiped right, too.
Oh, fuck.
—Bad Swipe, coming June 28th, 2021
Bad Swipe
Read Stef’s story, coming June 28th, 2021.
Preorder your copy at www.books2read.com/badswipe
Billionaire’s Club
Bad Night Stand
Bad Breakup
Bad Husband
Bad Hookup
Bad Divorce
Bad Fiancé
Bad Boyfriend
Bad Blind Date
Bad Wedding
Bad Engagement
Bad Bridesmaid
Bad Swipe
Also by Elise Faber
Billionaire’s Club (all stand alone)
Bad Night Stand
Bad Breakup
Bad Husband
Bad Hookup
Bad Divorce
Bad Fiancé
Bad Boyfriend
Bad Blind Date
Bad Wedding
Bad Engagement
Bad Bridesmaid
Bad Swipe
Gold Hockey (all stand alone)
Blocked
Backhand
Boarding
Benched
Breakaway
Breakout
Checked
Coasting
Centered
Charging
Caged (April 12th, 2021)
Breakers Hockey (all stand alone)
Broken (May 24th, 2021)
Love, Action, Camera (all stand alone)
Dotted Line
Action Shot
Close-Up
End Scene
Meet Cute (April 5th, 2021)
Love After Midnight (all stand alone)
Rum And Notes
Virgin Daiquiri
On The Rocks
Sex On The Seats (April 26th, 2021)
Life Sucks Series (all stand alone)
Train Wreck
Hot Mess
Dumpster Fire
Clusterf*@k (August 16th, 2021)
Roosevelt Ranch Series (all stand alone, series complete)
Disaster at Roosevelt Ranch
Heartbreak at Roosevelt Ranch
Collision at Roosevelt Ranch
Regret at Roosevelt Ranch
Desire at Roosevelt Ranch
Phoenix Series (read in order)
Phoenix Rising
Dark Phoenix
Phoenix Freed
Phoenix: LexTal Chronicles (rereleasing soon, stand alone, Phoenix world)
From Ashes
In Flames
To Smoke (October 18th, 2021)
KTS Series
Fire and Ice (Hurt Anthology, stand alone)
Riding The Edge
Crossing The Line (March 22nd, 2021)
Leveling The Field (June 14th, 2021)
Stand Alones
Someday, Maybe (YA)
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author, Elise Faber, loves chocolate, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team -- the Sharks! -- are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise changes her hair color more often than some people change their socks, loves sparkly things, and is the mom to two exuberant boys. She lives in Northern California. Connect with her in her Facebook group, the Fabinators or find more information about her books at www.elisefaber.com.