SEALed Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Includes bonus novel Jerked!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  “Love makes a man do crazy things,” Nash said.

  “Apparently it also makes you do very stupid things,” she said. “What were you thinking? The publisher is on edge as it is, and you’re running off to marry some random woman?” Livy glanced at me. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” I muttered.

  “Not a random woman,” Nash said. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

  Livy raised an eyebrow. “Really? And I never noticed?”

  “I am trained in deception, Livy. If I wanted to hide something from you, I could.”

  “Okay,” she said. “What about all the women you’ve been sleeping with?”

  Nash paused, and I saw anger flicker across his face. I knew that if I were really Nash’s wife, I should probably feel a little angry and jealous in that moment.

  And truthfully, I basically did. It annoyed me that he was such a manwhore. I didn’t want to be married to someone who thought more with his dick than with his brain, but there I was.

  “That’s part of why we got married,” Nash said, recovering himself. “Our relationship was open for a while, but we’ve committed ourselves to this now.”

  Livy looked at me. “Is this true, or is this some sort of bullshit stunt he’s pulling?”

  “It’s true,” I said.

  My first lie. The first of many to come, I assumed.

  “What’s he offering you?” Livy went one. “We can match it.”

  “I’m not offering her shit,” Nash said. “Are we going to stand around here getting interrogated, or are we going to get out of here?”

  Livy stared at me for another second before turning back to Nash. “First interview is early tomorrow morning. The schedule is on your phone.”

  Nash nodded. “Great.”

  “Car is waiting. Come on.” Livy turned and set out.

  Nash looked at me. “Good job,” he said softly.

  “Thanks.”

  We quickly walked behind Livy, trying to catch up.

  I didn’t think for a second that Livy bought our story, but it was plausible. If Nash and I had been in an open relationship, that would explain all of his whoring around. And if we were committing to each other, getting married the way we did also made sense.

  I memorized that story, prepared to repeat it over and over for journalists until I got sick of saying it.

  We hustled through the terminal, heading toward the baggage claim. Livy led the way, not slowing down or looking back. I glanced at Nash and could see the tension on his normally cocky face.

  This was probably becoming pretty real for him, too. It wasn’t just a thing between him and me anymore. Now we were going to be lying to the world. I was sure that Nash was capable of lying to everyone, considering the sort of training he must have had from the SEALs. But now we were really doing it, and there was no going back.

  We moved out of the terminal and toward the baggage claim. As soon as we got near the carousels, aiming to head outside, people began to come closer to us.

  “Nash Bell,” one man yelled out. “Why did you go to Las Vegas?”

  “Nash, this is another one of your girlfriends?”

  “Nash, is your story true? How much of it did you have to make up?”

  We kept moving, but the people swamped us. They had cameras and the flashes were going off, and I could tell that people were beginning to stare. Nash looked straight ahead and kept moving behind Livy. He glanced at me.

  “Just keep moving,” he said.

  I nodded, but the paparazzi weren’t stopping.

  “Nash, does she know about all the others? Are you drunk right now?”

  Flash after flash, they just kept taking pictures. I was amazed that Nash could keep his cool, especially since they were calling him a manwhore and a liar right to his face.

  It was totally overwhelming and a huge shock to hear the way they talked to him. Some reporters jostled into me, but we just kept going, eventually getting outside.

  “Nash, do you think your behavior is a stain on our country?”

  “Nash, how many sexually transmitted diseases have you caught? Five? Ten?”

  “Is it true that you frequent a new hooker every night and love cocaine?”

  Livy stopped in front of a black town car and opened the back door. Nash stepped aside and let me climb in first. The reporters just kept taking pictures, their questions coming faster and faster. Nash finally climbed in behind me. Livy got in last, sitting in the seat facing our own.

  The car pulled out into traffic, leaving the reporters behind.

  “Welcome to the circus,” Livy said to me.

  I looked at Nash and he just smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

  I didn’t think that was true.

  I’d seen things like that on TV before. I knew that happened to famous people, knew it happened all the time. But being in the very center of it was a completely crazy experience.

  It was strange that my picture was going to appear on a hundred blogs very soon. I’d be billed as Nash’s new slut or something equally horrifying just to get people clicking.

  And I hated that idea. I could see how most of the garbage out there about celebrities was either made up or completely embellished. True, Nash definitely did a lot of the things they accused him of, but I was starting to see that maybe he wasn’t as horrible as they pretended he was.

  The car headed into the city, and my mind was a buzzing mess. I wasn’t really prepared for this, couldn’t possibly be.

  But it was too late now. There was no going back. Our pictures were going to be out there, and I was sure that some of the journalists and paparazzi had noticed the enormous ring on my finger.

  It wasn’t going to take long for them to put it all together. Las Vegas, a new girl, a big ring.

  I was the playboy SEAL’s new wife.

  The hotel was in downtown Manhattan, and it was absolutely gorgeous.

  Livy had a room right next to ours. Nash had insisted on a suite for the two of us, since we were married and needed more room now. Livy hadn’t put up too much of a fight, and so our place was enormous and richly furnished.

  “Not so bad,” he said, sitting down on the couch and tossing his bag aside.

  “The room?”

  “No. I mean earlier. You did good.”

  “Thanks.” I walked right into the bedroom.

  “Bye,” he called out, laughing.

  I shut the door and pulled out my phone.

  Ever since Vegas, I’d been dreading this moment. But after those pictures, I needed to call my parents and tell them what had happened.

  I needed to call and lie to them.

  I dialed my mom’s number and held the phone up to my ear.

  “Hello?” she answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said.

  “Sweetie, how are you?”

  “Good.” I paused. “I have news. How’s Dad doing?”

  “He’s having a good day, actually. What’s going on?”

  “Can you put the phone on speaker and get him?”

  There was a pause. “Okay. Hold on. Let me figure this thing out.” There was a rustling. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I can.”

  “Hi, sweetheart,” my dad said.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “So what’s this news?” Mom asked.

  “Listen, this might seem a little nuts to you guys, but this is good news.”

  “You’re worrying me. What happened?” Mom asked again.

  “Guys, I got married.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “Seriously?” Dad asked.

  “Seriously,” I said.

  “I didn’t even know you were dating someone,” Mom said.

  “We had to keep it a secret,” I said.

  “Who is it?” Dad asked.

  “His name is Nash Bell.”

  “The Navy SEAL guy?” Mom asked incredulously.

  “That’s him,” I sai
d.

  My nerves were going crazy. I couldn’t believe I was telling them this lie, but I knew I had to.

  “How?” Dad asked. “This seems so strange.”

  “I’m sorry for keeping it from you two,” I said, “but it all happened so fast. We met and had a relationship, and now we’re married.” I couldn’t say that I loved him for some reason.

  “Okay,” Mom said slowly. “I’m sorry if I’m having a bad reaction. This is just so sudden.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”

  “Can we meet him?” Dad asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. This weekend?”

  “Uh,” I said, “I don’t think so. We have a bunch of press things to do for his book and his movie.”

  “Of course,” Mom said. “Because you married a famous person out of the blue and didn’t tell us about it.”

  That hurt. I knew my mom would be the more upset of the two, and I hated letting her down.

  “It’s okay,” Dad said quickly. “We’ll meet him as soon as you can.”

  “Listen, guys,” I said, “this is good. I’m happy. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “Okay, sweetie,” Dad said. “I’m just glad you’re happy.”

  “Listen,” I said, “I have to go.”

  “Okay, honey. Call us soon.”

  “Bye,” I said.

  They hung up the phone.

  I tossed mine aside, lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. The bed was enormous and richly furnished, but even the comfortable surroundings weren’t enough to blunt my anger and pain.

  I hated letting my parents down. Dad would act like it wasn’t a huge deal, but I knew he was inwardly hurt. Mom didn’t do a great job at hiding that, either.

  But could I blame them? One second it was normal and the next I was married to some rich and famous man they’d never met or even heard me mention.

  Frankly, if I were them, I’d think I had gone insane.

  But now they knew. The hard part was over. I’d broken the news and now I didn’t have to worry about it anymore. They’d get used to the idea soon enough, and then I’d get the money and explain everything to them. Maybe they’d be mad, but getting that million dollars would be worth it.

  It might even save my father’s life. Who knew what was going to happen, but the money would go a long way toward helping them keep their life together.

  Just a few months and it would be over. They could deal with thinking their daughter had gone nuts for a little bit.

  I’d have to make it up to them in the end.

  Frowning, I rolled over and tried not to let the nagging pit in my stomach overwhelm me.

  Chapter Twelve: Nash

  “I don’t know what you’re up to, Nash, but you better cut it the fuck out,” Livy hissed.

  I smiled sweetly at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Liv darling.”

  I savored the pissed-off look on her face as I leaned up against the door to our rooms.

  My new wife was currently hiding away in the bedroom, hogging it for herself. I wondered if I was in for a few months of sleeping on random hotel couches, which was going to be pretty miserable. I was going to have to work on that seduction thing, and quick, if at least to save myself some permanent damage to my back.

  Livy looked pissed. She had knocked on my door and practically torn me out into the hallway to wag her finger in my face like I was some spoiled kindergartener or some shit. Fortunately, Livy didn’t intimidate me at all.

  “I know you’re lying about something. I just don’t know what.”

  “Nobody is lying, Liv. You’re a little paranoid.”

  “Who is she, anyway?”

  “Met her a while ago.”

  She stared at me for a second and then looked down at a piece of paper in her notebook. “Selena Wood, twenty-one. Senior at the University of Pennsylvania, good grades, no trouble to speak of. Working class, normal parents.” She looked back up at me. “This girl is a nobody.”

  “She’s my wife,” I said simply.

  “Still a nobody. Did you meet her for the first time a few days ago at the signing?”

  “Enough,” I said, starting to get annoyed. Livy could always see through my bullshit, and it annoyed the hell out of me. “Selena is here and she isn’t going anywhere. Got it?”

  “Listen, Nash, I don’t give a shit what you do.” I made a face at her. “Really, I don’t. What I care about is doing my job, and if this girl is going to make that harder, then we’ll have a problem.”

  “My wife is a problem for you?” I asked, getting annoyed again.

  “Not yet. Keep it that way.”

  I watched as she turned and stormed away.

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself, walking back into the room.

  Livy was onto us. That wasn’t surprising, since Livy was always on me like white on toast. She was my damn professional babysitter, and she was good at it. Since she was my publicist, she wouldn’t do anything stupid like contradicting me in front of a journalist or saying something stupid around the paparazzi.

  But her word held weight with the publisher. If I wanted my mission to be a success, I needed to convince my publisher that this wife thing was for real.

  And, hopefully, they’d decide to let me go free of this fucking hell.

  I sat back down on the couch, lounging out. I took off my shirt and tossed it aside, closing my eyes to take a little nap.

  “Do you ever wear a shirt?”

  I opened one eye. “Sometimes,” I said.

  “Well clothe yourself, please.”

  “No. I’m in my bedroom.”

  Selena stared at me for a second and then sighed. “Fine. You can sleep on the bed tonight if you want.”

  “Nah,” I said. “That’s fine. You can have the bed.”

  “Really. You don’t have to sleep on couches for the next few months. We can alternate.”

  “Really,” I said, “you can have the bed.”

  “Fine.” She sat down in a chair. “I’m starving. Where do we eat?”

  “Call room service. It’s on the publisher.”

  She nodded. “Okay. And I need my stuff, too, from home.”

  I sighed and rubbed my head. “I’ll have Liv send for it. Make a list of what you want.”

  She nodded again.

  “Is that all, princess?” I asked, not sure why I was being short with her.

  “No,” she said, frowning. “Look, we should talk about tomorrow.”

  “What about it?”

  “We need to have our story straight.”

  I sat up. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “So you told Liv that we’ve been together secretly for a while, but our relationship was open. I think that was a good idea.”

  I nodded. “Thanks. I’m pretty great sometimes.”

  “Also,” she went on, “we should tell the media that I’m very private. That way we can minimize the number of times I’m on camera.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to get out of your work?”

  “No, but the fewer times I have to lie, the fewer times I can screw it all up.”

  He nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”

  “How did we meet?”

  “At a bar. You were a huge fan and couldn’t resist my charms.”

  She shook her head. “No. You haven’t been in Philly in a while.”

  “Have you traveled recently?”

  “I visited a friend in Chicago.”

  “I was in Chicago three months ago. We can say you were there with your friend and we ran into each other at a bar.”

  She frowned, thinking. She looked cute as fuck trying to reason this whole thing out. “Okay, fine. That could work.”

  “What else?” I asked.

  “They’re going to ask for the story exactly.”

  “Let me handle that.”

  “Fine. What about the wedding?”

  “We can tell the truth about
that. Spur of the moment thing in Vegas.”

  “Okay.” She stretched her legs and looked at me. “I think that’s it.”

  “Good,” I said, lying back down and shutting my eyes. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

  “I’ll leave you alone.” I listened as she stood and went back into the bedroom.

  I lay there, eyes shut, and felt bad about how short I had been with her. She was probably pretty nervous for tomorrow, especially considering she had never done a media interview before, let alone lied to the whole nation.

  Sighing, I stood up and slipped my shirt back on. I walked over to the bedroom door and pushed it open.

  “Hey, why don’t you—”

  I stopped in my tracks. Selena was standing there next to the bed in nothing but a bra and panties. She turned beet red and tried to cover herself.

  “Get out!” she yelled.

  I smirked at her. “I was just going to say you should order food for me too, but now I’m hungry for something else.”

  “Nash! Get out!”

  I laughed as I turned and left.

  My cock was fucking rock hard as I moved back into the main living room. Selena was fucking incredibly sexy with her full, firm tits and her incredible ass. The way she got so embarrassed just made it that much better.

  She came back out a minute later, fully clothed and looking pissed.

  “You cannot just barge in like that,” she said.

  “Forgot we aren’t really married,” I said, grinning at her. “Just wanted to check on my wife.”

  “Seriously, Nash. Boundaries.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.” I smirked and moved closer to her. “But you know it excites you thinking about me staring at your body.”

  “Not at all.”

  “No? You don’t get soaking wet knowing that I’m fucking hard just thinking about your incredible fucking body?”

  “Professional, Nash. We’re being professional.”

  But that look she was giving me wasn’t professional at all.

  In fact, she was looking at me like a starving cat looking at milk. She wanted to lap me up, and I fucking knew it. I stepped closer to her, cutting the distance between us in half, but she didn’t move a muscle.

  Her lips were slightly parted. “I like to keep things professional, too,” I said to her.