British Daddy To Go: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  Three-hundred people are waiting for me to the walk down the aisle! That spoiled asshole doesn’t even have the decency to show up to explain it to them? He doesn’t show up to explain to me how he could do this? I might vomit on the spot.

  “The church is full of people still!” Heather gasps, peeking inside. “What should we do?”

  “What are we going to say?” Mom sighs, rubbing her forehead. “What will everyone think? Oh my god, I’m sure my friends are already whispering. I’m going to be the laughingstock of our social set.”

  Trust my mom to think only of herself. Meanwhile, Melanie storms into the church; I know she’ll take care of breaking the news that there won’t be a wedding today.

  My bouquet slips from my fingers and tumbles to the ground as I stand there, watching my bridal party panic.

  “What do we do now?” Heather whines. “Oh my god oh my god!”

  “Ugh, we’re all dressed up for nothing. Do you think we can still go to the party? That’s not going to be called off, is it?” Jennifer whines.

  “This is so humiliating for our family,” Heather grumbles.

  Not one of them cares about me. They don’t even bother to quiet their complaints so that I don’t hear them. That’s how self-centered the girls are. Meanwhile, Mom’s already on the phone with the caterer, trying to get some of our deposit back.

  I can’t deal with any of this nonsense. I have to get out of here now. Soon, wedding guests will be exiting the church to see me standing here wearing the wedding dress that I picked out with my groom in mind.

  I look down at my gaudy engagement ring. It’s big and gaudy, with sharp facets that look deadly enough to draw blood. God, it’s even uglier than usual today, now that it’s a reminder of the commitment Jason broke.

  Gathering my gown in my hands, I dart back to the limo. My heels clatter on the sidewalk, and I probably look crazy, but I don’t care. I fling open the door of the limo and burrow myself into the dark safety.

  “Please, take me home,” I beg the driver, feeling tears fill my eyes.

  He nods and revs the engine before pulling away from the curb. The entire ride to my apartment in Morningside Heights, I replay my relationship with Jason. What a lousy boyfriend he was, and an even worse fiancé. I can’t imagine how awful of a husband he would have been. And God bless our children if we’d had any!

  I draw a shaky breath. I dodged a bullet, that’s for sure. But why do I feel so unsteady? My hands tremble a bit, and adrenalin is racing through my body at sixty miles an hour.

  A beep goes off on my phone, and I pick it up from the limo seat to stare at the screen. I assume it’s from Jason with an explanation, but instead, it’s from Melanie. What a spineless coward I have for a fiancé!

  Are you okay? Where are you?

  I text her back just as the limo stops outside my apartment building.

  I’m home.

  I don’t bother telling her anything else. There are so many feelings twisting me up inside—pain, embarrassment, regret. But at the same time, I don’t feel anything at all. A numbing emptiness is all that fills me as I step out of the limo.

  As soon as I get into my apartment, I yank the engagement ring off and slam it on the table. I kick off my shoes and shimmy the dress off, kicking all of it into a corner in my bedroom. All I want to do is go back to sleep and pretend this nightmare isn’t happening. That asshole. He deserves what he gets.

  To be continued …

  Big Daddy To Go is LIVE! Pick up your copy here.

  Sneak Peek: Valentine’s Daddy To Go

  Nellie

  He’s a bad boy biker dude with a chip on his shoulder and an ego the size of an elephant. Can the curvy girl change his ways?

  Amy convinced me to come to this block party. At first, I was a little hesitant because of who I am as a person. Parties just aren’t my thing, not really. I don’t think I’ve been to one in at least a year. Plus, I always end up being the awkward girl in the corner, looking like a total loner weirdo.

  Amy is more of a party personality. She flits from person to person regaling them with her wit and beauty. Plus, people just naturally pay her more attention. Her long blonde hair, blue eyes and killer body attract eyes, both male and female. I mean, she’s gorgeous. Sometimes, I’ll even catch myself staring at her.

  Not that I mind. I prefer the eyes to be on Amy as opposed to me because I’ve never been one for attention. I absolutely hate it when people look at me and start asking questions. I get all flustered, and then the word vomit comes. Just pure nonsense spews out of my mouth.

  I guess asking and answering questions is regular socializing, but I’m bad at it either way.

  But even with my social anxiety, I came to this block party. Amy really hyped it up, telling me it was going to be so much fun, and how I just couldn’t miss out. Plus, I really love hanging out with her. I knew she’d be upset if I chose to stay in for the night, and whenever we’re together, I end up having all kinds of fun anyways. So there wasn’t too much of a downside.

  Amy even got me to dress a little more flirtatiously than usual. My skirt is a mini, and my top is a halter, so there is a whole lot of exposed skin. I don’t think I’ve ever been outside in less, not even at the beach. Most of the girls here are dressed in even less, to be honest, but they all look amazing. It just feels so weird being so racy myself, but Amy is that good at getting me to do things.

  “Are you having fun?” she asks. My best friend pops back up from her little drink excursion with two cups in her hand. She gives me one, taking a quick sip from her own.

  “Yeah, of course,” I answer, hiding my white lie with a drink from my red Solo cup. I’m not having the worst time, I’m just a little bit intimidated because of my wallflower tendencies.

  When the amber liquid touches my tongue, I make a face because it’s cheap beer. I’m not much of a drinker to begin with, but I can tell this is something that probably cost less than five dollars for a six pack. And, when I do choose to indulge in the devil’s juice, it’s usually a crisp glass of white wine.

  I guess that’s a little too fancy for a block party.

  “Oh no, you don’t like it,” Amy deflates at the sight of my displeased expression.

  “No, no, I just wasn’t expecting beer. I like the drink. I really do. Thank you for getting it for me. I really appreciate it.”

  I don’t want her to think that I’m miserable because I’m not. It’s just that I’m more of a homebody, so things like this always make me a little uncomfortable. I’m sure once I get a few drinks in me, I’ll become the social butterfly I need to be in order to enjoy myself.

  “Has anyone caught your eye?” my friend asks. Amy is scanning the crowd, checking out all the potential hookups. She’s so much more charming than I am. She goes out and can have any man she wants. It’s her magic way. By contrast, it’s always felt awkward for me to go out and approach guys.

  But maybe tonight can be different. The problem is that no one has caught my attention. Most of the men here tonight look pretty average, so I’m just not interested in any of them.

  I shrug.

  “Not really. I’m feeling kind of blah,” I say by way of excuse.

  I don’t even really mind going home alone tonight. I could curl up on my sofa, and put on a romance. I’ve been meaning to re-watch Pride & Prejudice for a long while now. I think I have one more bag of microwave popcorn somewhere in my pantry, and Mr. Darcy plus buttery popcorn would hit the spot just right.

  “Oooh, look!” Amy hits my shoulder with the back of her hand, her eyes intently focused on two hot guys not too far away. They’re clearly here together, talking to one another. Maybe they don’t even want to be bothered. There are a few girls hanging around them, tossing eyes in that general direction, but they’ve been ignoring everyone up to now.

  “They’re cute, but I don’t know,” I hesitate. I want to keep Amy from dragging the two of us over there. I hate the idea of being rejected or
worse, ignored.

  I’m about to tell Amy to not even bother with going over there, but I take too long. Soon, we’re already halfway to these men, her grip tight on my arm.

  By the time I’ve come to my senses, we are face to face with Hot Guy Number One and Hot Guy Number Two. I feel so unprepared for what is about to happen that I clam up. I don’t even know what I’d say if I wanted to talk.

  “Hi!” Amy chirps brightly.

  The men turn to look at us.

  “Hey,” one of them says in a cool tone. His friend has moved off to the side, and the two of us watch the flirting commence.

  Amy is all smiles, putting on her best sexy girl routine.

  “Are you guys from around here?” Amy twirls a piece of her bright blonde her around her finger.

  “Yeah, Nash and I both live and work around the neighborhood,” Hot Guy Number One answers. I look back at his friend whom I can’t see that clearly. It’s twilight, and he’s half-hidden in the shadows. I can make out a huge frame with broad shoulders, and a tight black t-shirt that skims a muscular chest. I know those eyes are a piercing blue because I can feel their heat on me, even if I can’t see them myself.

  “That’s cool,” my friend chirps. “Nellie and I are in the same boat. My name is Amy by the way.” She holds out her hand, waiting for him to shake it. He smirks and wraps his massive fingers around her palm.

  “I’m Colton, but my friends call me Colt.”

  “Are you saying that we’re friends if I call you Colt?” Amy asks flirtatiously.

  “If you want to be.”

  She simpers.

  “I think I would like that. I might like it even more if we could be more than friends.”

  “More than friends, huh?” he smirks again.

  Amy has gotten rather close to Colt at this point. Her hands go to his shoulders, and she gets a look of mock surprise on her face.

  “Wow, you’re so muscular. Do you work out a lot?”

  At this point, I look away because it’s getting a little too cheesy for me. Do people really do this? Evidently, yes. Embarrassed, I look back over at Colt’s friend, Nash, and the air escapes my lungs. Goodness, he’s still looking at me. Did he ever look away? Maybe I have something in my teeth or on my face? Oh boy, that would be beyond embarrassing. There’s no way for me to discreetly check, but I purse my lips and quickly brush my hand down the side of my face to remove any potential crumbs.

  Here’s this hot guy probably secretly laughing at me because I’m a legitimate mess. I keep glancing at him, my eyes wandering between the cup in my hand and his face.

  This all feels so very, very awkward. I need to get out of here.

  I look back over to where Colt and Amy are flirting but like magic, the two of them have disappeared. How is this possible? I do a sweep around the party with my eyes, but they are nowhere to be found.

  “Really?” I mumble to myself. “Where did they go?”

  I hear Nash chuckle and turn back around.

  “What?” I demand.

  The word comes out a lot more annoyed than I expected, but I am a little annoyed, so I don’t apologize. Plus, it’s rude to laugh at people in distress.

  “Nothing, but they went that way,” he points, “if you want to follow your friend.” I turn in the direction of his finger, but I don’t see Amy or Colt anywhere. I’m sure they’re looking for a private area to do private things, and I don’t want to interrupt their fun. Even if that means me being a little uncomfortable.

  “No, it’s fine,” I respond. “It just would have been nice if she told me that they were leaving, but it’s fine. I’m fine. I really am fine. Totally fine.” Ugh, I sound so needy and desperate. What is wrong with me?

  The handsome man grins, revealing bright white teeth that gleam in the twilight.

  “Are you sure you’re fine? I can’t tell. If you’re fine that is.” Nash has this amused look on his face. I must have said the word fine like one thousand times. Maybe even more. He must think I’m an idiot.

  It’s not helping that he’s hotter than the fires of hell. His body and his eyes and his face and his everything! Ugh! It’s like my brain is turning to mush.

  Why is he making me so stupid!?

  “Yes, I am fine, Nash. Your name is Nash, right?”

  “It is. And you’re Nellie.”

  I nod. Not going to lie. It’s kind of surprising to me that he remembered my name. I thought I’d be someone to ignore to a hottie like him, but maybe I was wrong. He grins again. The man is so handsome he could make a popsicle melt on a winter day.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nellie. Are you enjoying the party?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I answer. I guess we’re having a conversation now. “It’s not my usual scene, but it’s fun.”

  He nods.

  “Yeah, I’m not much of a partier myself. Usually, I’m riding or tinkering with my bike.” With the mention of his bike, it’s the first time I notice he’s casually leaning against a chopper. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. The machine is pretty huge, but I guess I didn’t notice because I was so preoccupied with his physical presence that everything else kind of faded away.

  Plus, these extra tiny clothes make me feel like he’s analyzing every inch of exposed skin that I have. Not that it’s bad. His eyes are making their assessment, and my skin tingles before flaring hotly in my secret spot. But I don’t feel particularly judged. I’m actually breathing rapidly and kind of happy. I should be more intimidated. He’s so much bigger than me, and his eyes flashed for a moment, but for whatever reason, being so close to Nash has me excited.

  Excited in ways I’ve never been before.

  “So, you’re a biker?” I ask.

  Nash tilts his head and takes a swig from his beer.

  “I guess you could say that,” he smirks.

  “I’ve never even been on a motorcycle. Yours looks nice, though.” I could never dream of jumping on one of those things. They’re so loud, and it’s just you against the wind. There’s so much that could go wrong. There’s nothing protecting you in a crash except maybe a helmet.

  Not that I’m going to tell Nash that. I’m sure he’s heard enough about the dangers of being on a bike. He doesn’t need to hear that from some noob like me. He’s probably just talking to me out of pity since my friend ditched me.

  Yeah, that’s probably it.

  Nash asks me a question, but I’m so caught in my thoughts that I don’t quite catch it.

  “Hm?” I ask distractedly. I heard something, but I’m not actually sure if I heard him right. I’m sure he didn’t just invite me to get on that death machine.

  He grins knowingly.

  “I asked if you wanted to go for a ride?”

  “A ride? Yeah, sure.”

  What? Why did I just say yes? And so quickly? I don’t even know this guy’s last name, and I’m already agreeing to take a ride on a vehicle that I’ve been legit scared of for most of my life. Not just agreeing, but basically jumping at the opportunity. I can’t be doing this.

  Nash gets up off his bike and gets two helmets out from a little compartment in back.

  “You sure?” he asks while holding out a helmet for me.

  “Of course!” He just gave me a chance to back out, and I didn’t. OMG.

  I take the helmet from him, doing my best to exude absolute confidence. What I’m feeling on the inside is nerves, but I don’t want to let on.

  He grins.

  “Okay, whatever you say, boss.” He sticks his helmet on his head, securing it. I try to do the same, mirroring his actions, but I’m having trouble with the clip. Nash did it with such ease, so why can’t I?

  “Want some help?” he asks with a twinkle in those blue eyes.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He has to bend down a little bit to see under my chin. I lift it up slightly, giving him easier access. His fingers easily work the clip and get the helmet sitting on my head nice and snug. His hand linge
rs a little bit, and I swear his fingers brush against my neck right where he’d be able to feel my pulse. My heart is pounding, so I’m sure my pulse is going a mile a minute. I hold my breath, hoping it will slow the rushing rhythm of my body, but my heart just beats even faster. He’s much too close to me, and I know I’m going to faint.

  But then Nash lets go of me like nothing’s even happened and goes back to his bike. Closing my eyes, I take long and deep breaths.

  He has to know how nervous I am. Maybe he thinks it’s because of this motorcycle ride, my first one ever. Which is fine with me because I don’t need Nash knowing the real reason why I’m breathing hard.

  Oh, Jesus Christ!

  I open my eyes back up and see him throwing a long, muscular leg over the seat, getting himself situated. I kind of just stand there, bouncing my weight from one foot to the next in a bid to get rid of my anxiety.

  “Did you want to get on?” Nash asks with an amused expression.

  “Oh, yeah. Let me do that.”

  I rush over and try to get my leg over the seat, but since I’ve never done this before, I’m having some issues. I feel his arms go under my armpits, and he lifts me up to place my ass behind him. I’m not even sure how he maneuvered his body to get me on the bike.

  He looks back at me with that smirk of his. It goes straight to my secret spot, and I begin to tingle all over.

  “You need to wrap your arms around me unless you want to fall off. Trust me, falling hurts.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  I feel so absentminded. I keep getting so lost in looking at him that I’m forgetting basic functions. I slide my arms around my waist and feel rock hard abs immediately. I almost start moving my fingers around, so I can feel him up, but that’s not why we’re here. Remaining calm and cool is of the utmost importance. I bring my body against his back so that my breasts just brush against him, feeling his warmth seeping through his shirt.