Catch-22 (Single Dad Romance)

by Brenda Ford

  I might be pretty and dressed in a designer gown, but I still grew up in a working-class world. No one threatened me, and if Luke thought I was some sort of joke – well, he could eat a bag of dicks for all I cared.

  Chapter 2

  VINCENT

  When Willow walked into a room, people would stop and stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed. And the best part of it was that she had absolutely no idea she had that power over others. This time, when she walked into the ballroom, it was no different. I watched as men and women stared at her, admiring her beauty, as she rushed into the room with a scowl upon that pretty, pale face of hers.

  “Willow dear, is everything okay?” I asked, calling her over to me.

  She walked over to me immediately, and replaced that scowl with a smile. “Yes, sweetie,” she said, kissing my cheek. “Everything is fine.”

  “You didn't look too happy for a moment,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  She looked to be mulling something over, but she didn't say anything. “No, it's fine. I sometimes have resting bitch face, but I swear, everything is good,” she said, looking around. “What did I miss?”

  “Oh, nothing interesting,” I said, brushing off her question. “Just talking business, nothing interesting to you.”

  Willow smiled at me, showcasing perfect, her pearly white teeth behind those luscious ruby red lips. Everything about her – from her hair to her makeup – was impeccable. She did a fine job cleaning up and looking magnificent – partially with my help, of course. Her auburn hair flowed over her bare shoulders in soft waves, bringing out the green in her eyes. I'd always had a thing for Irish girls, and Willow Monaghan was everything I'd wanted in a woman – and I knew that the moment I'd first laid eyes on her at the club. Sure, I put her in some designer clothes and paid for her to get her hair and nails done, which only made her stand out even more. She was a work of art to begin with, nothing more than some fancy clothes and professional make up, I'd managed to make her even better.

  “Oh yeah? How do you know I wouldn't be interested?” she teased me, playfully punching me in the gut. “Because I'm a girl? You don't think I know a thing or two about the world of business?”

  There was something in her eyes, something that said perhaps her joke wasn't so much a joke, but more of a way to express herself without coming off as pushy or demanding. Oh yes, I had experience with women like Willow. I knew their little tricks. She was feeling – insecure.

  “Oh no, that's not it at all, baby,” I said, pulling her closer to me, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “But tonight is supposed to be about having fun, and I'll be honest – I'm ready to stop talking shop and let the fun begin. How about you?”

  She bit her lower lip and looked away, almost like she was fighting the hurt. Again, I knew women and I knew that look, but I also knew that I could distract her. As the waiter walked by, I grabbed two flutes of champagne and handed her one, which brought a smile to her face.

  “Cheers to having fun once in a while,” I said, clinking our glasses together. “With the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink, and her smile grew even wider. And I knew I had her.

  “I love you, Vincent,” she said softly.

  “And I love you too, Willow.”

  Chapter 3

  LUKE

  I didn't dare mingle with the rich and famous. I knew my place, and it wasn't in some stuffy ballroom with Vincent's friends. But it was clear that Vincent – my friend and the man I'd come to visit, was gone. Sadly, so.

  I'd left for the war, and yes, I'd changed. War changed people. Anybody who spent what felt like a lifetime in the shithole that was Afghanistan, killing the enemy, dodging bullets and death on daily basis, didn't come home the same way they'd left it. It just wasn't possible.

  But Vincent hadn't gone to war and he was also very different – and I wasn't sure it was a good thing.

  Earlier that day, when I'd called him, he'd sounded surprised to hear from me.

  “Luke Nichols? How the hell have you been?” he asked when I'd called.

  And at first, he sounded a lot like the Vincent I remembered. But I'd heard some things about how he'd become a millionaire. Heard how he lived in Beverly Hills and had left Atlanta for good, vowing to never go back. He was living the California lifestyle, or so they'd said.

  And as soon as I showed up on his doorstep, I realized the stories were true. Vincent Fiore had indeed done well for himself. Very well for himself, it would seem.

  “Damn, man,” I said as I stepped into the foyer of his massive home. “I heard you were some big shot CEO or some shit, but this? This is unbelievable.”

  “Yeah,” Vincent smiled, “I've been a lucky man.”

  Luck had nothing to do with it as far as I was concerned. Unless he'd won the lottery, I knew it wasn't about luck. And yet, Vincent had never had the brain or the work ethic to succeed in business as far as I knew – which had raised some red flags in my mind. But what the hell did I know?

  “So how ya been, Luke? Long time, no see,” Vincent said, walking me through the house and taking me to an indoor bar in a large gaming room. He poured me a drink – name brand, overpriced alcohol, of course. “What brings you to LA?”

  “Not much, just lookin' for work,” I said, taking the drink and swallowing most of it down in one gulp. “You wouldn't happen to know of anybody looking, would you?”

  “You could always work for me?” Vincent said, shooting me a smile.

  “Oh yeah? What sort of work do you do?” I asked. “I mean, what sort of business do you own?”

  Vincent shrugged and drank from his glass. “I dabble in a little bit of everything – imports, exports, you name it.”

  “But no specific industry?”

  I'd heard some talk about Vincent's business dealings from family back in Atlanta, but I'd brushed it aside. At least, until that moment. I'd heard talk that Vincent Fiore had located his father, in Los Angeles. His long-lost father – who just so happened to be involved in the mafia. Not that I believed the gossip, but his vagueness about his line of work set a few red flags waving in my mind.

  “Let's just say – I like to diversify.”

  “I see.”

  Not that I knew a lot about business and finance – I'd been born for the service. My father and grandfather had both been in the service. Career soldiers. It was all I'd ever wanted to do and was all I knew. Business and finance and economics – none of that had ever mattered to me. I was a fighter, not an accountant.

  “Listen, I'm having a little get-together this evening,” Vincent said. “Guests should be arriving any time now. Care to stick around?”

  I looked around at his fancy, elegant home and smirked. “I don't know if I'm dressed properly – ”

  “Nah, you're good, man. You're an old friend,” Vincent said. “And friends are always welcome in my home, no matter what.”

  As much as I'd wanted to scoot on out of there, something told me to stay. If I stayed, maybe I could unravel the mystery of Vincent's sudden and inexplicable wealth. Or maybe I'd discover he'd just been a lucky bastard all along and move on with my life. Either way, I had the itch to stay and check things out. If for no other reason, than to ease my own mind.

  “Sounds great,” I said. “Mind if I clean myself up first?”

  I watched the party from outside the ballroom, watched as Vincent nestled himself against Willow while they mingled with the elite. Since the other partygoers arrived, Vincent hadn't said a single word to me, and I wondered if maybe I should consider heading out. There really was no reason for me to stay. But I stared at Willow for a moment longer, watching as she smiled at Vincent, a look of adoration on that innocent, beautiful face.

  Vincent had never been the best looking kid in school. In fact, the reason he'd joined the football team in the first place was to try to bulk up, thinking it would give him a better chance with the chicks. He wasn't a very good athlet
e though, and the other guys picked on him. But not me – because my mama raised me better than that. Besides, I'd liked Vincent back then. I'd been one of the very few, actually.

  But I wasn't so sure I liked him all that much now.

  Want to read the rest of SECURING WILLOW?

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  SECURING WILLOW

  Author’s Note

  Thank you to all my readers, especially those who are reading my work for the first time. It is my privilege to have you by my side and I am glad and thankful that you all chose to spend a day or two reading my book.

  If you have a minute—or even, say, like 30 seconds—please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon for CATCH-22. Reviews help indie authors so much!

  XO, Brenda

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  Brenda Ford is a romance author who loves to write steamy romance that will give you a fresh spice in your love life.

  Her books revolve around Alpha Men, Billionaires and Bad Boys, whether they are rockstars or bikers or someone staying in the neighborhood.

  Her focus is to deliver that special pleasure to what a woman wants from her partner in all her books.

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