Worst Valentine's Day Ever: A Lonely Hearts Romance Anthology

by Kilby Blades

  Vanessa had been wrong. So very wrong.

  Diana, a social worker who looked after the sex workers in Dallas’s red-light district, seemed to have invited everyone she knew. Every client she’d ever had was on the list. Her pimps and hos, amazingly, managed to dress wedding-appropriate.

  Right now, Diana and Mac’s professional contacts, as well as family members, friends, and plus-ones all waited patiently at the adorable wedding chapel that pre-dated the country club.

  Diana tried, and failed, to keep from losing her shit as the minutes ticked by without the preacher. Their mother had unhelpfully suggested that had Diana and Mac decided to marry in a Catholic church, the priest would not have been late. It was possibly true, but again, unhelpful in the face of the current dilemma.

  The wedding planning experience had frayed Diana’s nerves to the snapping point, and she was at the end of her rope. It was just all too much to deal with, and only Vanessa’s admonishment not to ruin her professionally-done makeup with her tears of frustration had kept Diana’s trembling lips from escalating into a full-on ugly cry.

  "You think your sister will react poorly if we can't find the preacher and get him to the service on time?" Bubba asked, as if reading her mind. He cocked an eyebrow at her, topaz eyes fixed on her with an arch expression.

  There was no restraint considered, no expense spared, when it came to making Diana's wedding dreams come true. Diana’s wedding fête consisting of three hundred or so of the couple’s closest friends and family. Vanessa was frankly surprised that her sister and fiancé knew that many people.

  The location had to be perfect, too. And that was why they were now bumping along the fairway or whatever they called the rolling golf course of the posh country club Mac's old money family were members of.

  "Hang on," Bubba gritted through clenched teeth. Her head swiveled just as they narrowly skirted a water trap.

  She turned incredulous eyes on him, her mouth open.

  "Are you trying to get us killed?" She yelled. "Slow the fuck down!"

  "Now baby, there's no reason to get testy." He placed a hand on her satin-covered thigh, and gave her a lecherous grin.

  She was at first surprised by his boldness, then annoyed at his audacity. Pulse pounding with pique, she plucked his hand off her thigh and moved her leg away.

  “Keep your eyes on the road...or the grass,” her words were clipped. She glared at him again, then turned her eyes to the green ahead of them. The man was beyond infuriating. "I am not testy, and stop calling me ‘baby’."

  Vanessa had not been enthused about standing up at her sister’s wedding, not because she didn't love her sister, but because she preferred to keep her distance from the groom’s best friend, Bubba. The man had shown his interest in her since they’d first met more than a year ago. But Bubba was a shifter, a predator, and she’d been down that road before. It only led to heartbreak.

  Vanessa had resolved after her girls were born that her freewheeling days were behind her. She needed to focus on her girls, who were shifters themselves, to raise them in a world that still discriminated against shifters.

  She couldn’t let her sister down, though. For the past few months, Vanessa had been the perfect sister, arranging the engagement party in Chicago, throwing the bridal shower with the help of Diana’s clients, and gamely planning the Las Vegas bachelorette party. Diana was Vanessa’s twin, her womb mate, and her best friend. Vanessa would do anything to make her sister’s wedding day perfect. So she’d tolerated Bubba Cermak, who had a knack for showing up at places when she least expected it.

  The engagement party in Chicago, which she had been careful to schedule when he was supposed to be away on a mission? He had somehow managed to show up. Since he had been part of the wedding party, she couldn't exactly ask him to leave.

  Bubba had also crashed the bridal shower and bachelorette parties, whose timing and locations had been closely guarded secrets, but Vanessa had drawn the line at allowing him to attend. He shamelessly used his considerable charms to insinuate himself into the good graces of anyone he came in contact with. This included her mother, who evidently thought Bubba was Vanessa’s last hope to find a nice Catholic boy to settle down with. Vanessa’s twins adored “Uncle Bubba.” The women who attended Diana’s pre-wedding parties also liked Bubba, while also acknowledging Bubba had a reputation as a player.

  Even knowing all this about the man, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily become sucked into his devastating wolf charm. The man was equally at home in jeans and a T-shirt, like he’d worn to crash the bridal festivities, as he was in the tailored tuxedo he now wore. The charcoal gray tuxedo was the perfect complement to his pale complexion. It was only enhanced by the slight stubble framing the curved lips that invited kisses and nibbles.

  Yep, Bubba Cermak was a fine specimen of a man. It was equally true that Bubba was known for saying the wrong thing, his brain-to-mouth filter as leaky as a colander. Once you got past all that, it was easy to become enthralled with his broad shoulders, his flat abs, his muscular arms, and, glory be, the bulge that hinted at the promised land between his legs. The trousers of his suit revealed the man's propensity to dress left. This wasn't the first time she had noticed, either. There were many times where her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the man's groin. She was pretty good at hiding it too…

  "What's on your mind, City Mouse?"

  Vanessa snapped out of her salacious thoughts to find Bubba pinning her with a knowing expression, one eyebrow cocked and wolfish eyes gleaming at her.

  He didn’t see me checking out his package...did he? She blinked quickly and looked into his topaz eyes. His gaze was impassive, assessing, eyeing her speculatively. He smirked, but if he had caught her checking out his package, he made no sign of having done so.

  "I'm… where are we going?" She stammered, looking around and thinking she sounded like an idiot.

  They had come to an area close to a massive parking lot. Beyond it was the entrance to the country club. The air held a chill that was more obvious when her mind wasn’t consumed with pervy thoughts of him. She watched him, holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

  Bubba stopped the cart and looked at her. His eyes took a leisurely stroll over her body, blatantly landing on her chest and her nipples, which had hardened into pebbles underneath the thin silver material of her bridesmaid’s gown. His eyes, a beautiful topaz with a dark gray ring around the irises, looked into hers.

  "You look cold," he told her, smirking.

  He removed his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders before she could refuse it. Like most shifters, the man ran hot, and when the suit jacket landed on her shoulders, her whole body was cradled by his residual warmth. His intoxicating scent lingered on the suit jacket as well, and she could not help but inhale it.

  "Thank you," she mumbled, pulling the suit jacket around her and looking away from him. Her face burned with embarrassment.

  Then they were once again moving, the little golf cart bouncing along the green, then ontp the asphalt, dodging the parked cars of club members, finally pulling up to one of the stone pillars abutting the front gate. They came upon a short man with an ambitious comb-over who was dressed in a black suit with a clerical collar. The little man stood next to a small sedan looking distressed. As they drew closer, Vanessa realized the car had evidently hit a curb, the driver lost control of the car, and it wound up nose up in a now ruined flower bed. It had to be their pastor.

  Bubba parked the golf cart and rounded to Vanessa's side of the vehicle with a few long strides to help her out.

  She mentally braced herself for the inevitable physical reaction she always felt when they had occasion to touch skin-to-skin. When their fingers touched, a pleasant sizzle of electricity rushed over her body.

  "I'm okay," she said, snatching her hand away abruptly. Bubba’s smirk returned.

  Did he feel the same surge of electricity that I did?

  But, there wasn’t any time
to waste puzzling over this.

  They had a wedding to save.

  Get Me to the Church on Time

  After determining that the little man’s sedan could not be moved at the moment, Bubba hustled the preacher into the back seat of the golf cart. They ignored the car in the flowerbed in favor or getting them to the wedding as soon as possible.

  It turns out the preacher had been in a hurry to get to the wedding and, already running late and unfamiliar with the country club, had missed the entrance entirely. He’d tried to make a quick U-turn, but he’d gone wide of the mark and wound up plowing into the flower bed. The man was beside himself at the damage he’d done, and wanted to stay to see to his car.

  "I'll take care of this later," Bubba told the man. "You're already late for the wedding."

  Bubba saw Vanessa brace herself again, as if preparing for a hard crash landing. She had her feet pressed against the floorboards as Bubba turned the cart around and went barreling back the way they came.

  “Slow down!” Vanessa cried from the passenger seat, eyes bugging out at him. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back from her gorgeous face and she wore a bunch of fresh roses around the base of her tidy bun. Her hair was always wild, and he wondered what manner of wizardry had her springy locks tamed to such a degree.

  She narrowed her eyes in a warning glare and he repressed his smirk. Her glares always turned him on. He supposed this was the opposite of what she was going after.

  “Yes, son, please slow down,” said the little man in the back seat. The little man who couldn’t even drive through the front entrance of the country club without wrecking his own car.

  Back seat driver Bubba thought to himself, not in the mood to have his driving criticized. This guy has a lot of nerve.

  “I just want to get there in one piece,” the man said in a rush.

  The design of the golf cart had the man seated right behind Bubba, basically with his back to the front seat, and he caught a whiff of fear in the man’s scent. When Bubba looked at the man, his face was flattened in fear, his blue eyes beady in his pale face.

  Did I say that out loud?

  Bubba glanced at Vanessa.

  “No comments from the peanut gallery,” she admonished.

  Oops. He had said that out loud.

  Returning to the chapel took much less time than retrieving the preacher, and soon they were parked in front and heading up the steps. As they entered, Bubba spotted Mac, who stood in front so as to avoid seeing the bride, who was….wherever brides hid themselves before weddings.

  Vanessa stalked towards the back of the church, the back of her silver dress trailing behind her, still wearing Bubba’s suit jacket.

  “Nessa!” He called out, then rushed after her. When he caught up with her, she gave him an aggrieved “what the fuck” look, her pale brown eyes huge and irritated, her soft, plush lips pursed.

  Once again her irritation only made him hot and bothered. A thought popped into his head. Actually, more like an image, one that involved him palming each of her ass cheeks in one of his hands, her legs wrapped around his waist, backing her into a wall as he chewed and sucked on her lips. His dick went hard in response to these wayward thoughts, her proximity, and the death glare she now directed at him. The woman was so fucking hot.

  Blood drained from his brain and surged toward his man parts. He almost forgot what he wanted to say to her, but her annoyed, “What?” snapped him out of his daze.

  “My jacket looks great on you, but I don’t think your sister is gonna want me standing up for Mac unless I’m wearing it.” He gave her the most charming smile he could muster.

  She maintained eye contact, her expression challenging him. He shifted his legs, the better to accommodate his lengthening arousal, and stared right back at her. The sexual tension between them crackled like kernels of popcorn tossed in hot oil. She removed the jacket and handed it to him. Then she raised an eyebrow, turned on her dyed-to-match heels, and stalked away, her shoes making a sharp snap on the floor.

  He watched her retreating backside, covered in a silvery fabric that emphasized every sway of her hips, as she walked away. He pursed his lips in appreciation and absently adjusted his cock in his pants.

  “Excuse me,” came a rich bass voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

  Bubba whirled around and his eyes locked with those of Mac. His best friend was glowering at him. Unlike Vanessa’s death glare, Mac’s disapproving look caused Bubba’s dick to go soft. All things considered, it was probably for the best.

  Bubba cleared his throat and nodded at Mac.

  Show time.

  White Wedding

  The officiant smoothed this hair, squared his shoulders, and waited for the cue to start. The wedding march began, and Mac stood at the end of the aisle looking as cool as a cucumber.

  Diana began to walk up the aisle alone, and Vanessa felt a pang of sadness over their missing father. He had been gone for half their lives, killed in the line of duty while he worked for the Chicago PD, and sometimes she forgot his absence. Then something happened and the grief came back to her, washing over her and percussive waves. Suddenly, she was transported back to when she and her twin were teenagers, and her father had just been killed. The pain, the grief, washed over her anew as if they had just lost him.

  Vanessa rallied. This was her sister’s special day and she was going to make sure Diana had a beautiful wedding.

  Forever My Lady

  "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Bodie!"

  The diminutive preacher stretched his arms out as if to air cuddle the newly married couple, and addressed the congregation. Applause, howls, and ululations erupted from the crowd. Diana and Mac grinned stupidly at one another as they made their way out of the church, hand-in-hand. The wedding party followed right behind.

  They moved to the side, and Bubba watched as the guests filed out of the chapel and headed over to the event hall, just a few yards away, where appetizers and an open bar awaited the guests. The wedding party milled around and waited for the photographer.

  It was then that Bubba saw the two Dallas Police Department uniforms making their way up the hill on a pair of motorcycles. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vanessa stalk over to head them off. He jogged over to the three of them to intervene.

  As he got closer, he heard them telling Vanessa that they had run the car’s registration and discovered the owner was a pastor who lived on the other side of town. They put two and two together, deduced that the man was there to perform a wedding, and had tracked him to the ceremony.

  They were now ready to take the pastor’s statement and/or apprehend him for causing damage to the club and fleeing the scene of the accident. Vanessa somehow managed to convince them to wait until after the photos had been taken.

  For the better part of an hour, the wedding party took photos together. Bubba made sure he appeared in as many photos as possible with Vanessa and her twins, Scarlett and Charlotte. He kept the girls giggling and loose throughout the photo shoot, instead of frisky and sullen.

  After the photos were taken, the preacher was taken away by the police.

  He held hands with the girls and they strolled into the reception.

  Don’t You Want Me Baby?

  As Bubba led her daughters into the hall, Vanessa frowned at his high-handedness. He wasn’t their father, after all. But she had to admit he took good care of them. Watched out for them.

  Hell, if Vanessa was completely honest with herself, even she liked Bubba. However, that didn’t mean she needed to date him. Or sleep with him. Vanessa only wanted to like Bubba in a platonic, friend-zone way.

  Bubba had made it super-clear that he didn’t want to be friend-zoned. He flirted without mercy, showed up wherever he thought she would be, and—she suspected—had enlisted her mother in his plan to win Vanessa over, these past couple of months. He was fixated on her. She could do nothing to dissuade his attentions. He had even begun to insist
with sincerity in his topaz eyes that they were mates.

  Vanessa had heard this line before, from Ben, the twins’ coywolf shifter father, when she had informed him of her pregnancy.

  She thought about that grin Bubba gave her, his teeth flashing white and the scar bisecting his eyebrow and trailing down his cheek giving him a rakish look. Vanessa had often wondered how he got the injury. As a wolf shifter, it should have healed with a less noticeable scar.

  She had wondered, but hadn't asked. She didn’t want to encourage him, and she knew he would consider personal questions encouragement. Bubba made no secret that he had a "thing" for Vanessa, had since they'd first met at her sister's barbecue.

  But Bubba was a player, and she didn't want to go there with him. She had two little girls to think about, and she didn't have time to play games. He kept hinting that he wanted more from a relationship. But Vanessa have been around the block with Ben, the coywolf who had fathered her children. Ben wasn't built for commitment, and she didn't want to mate him just because of her pregnancy.

  But Bubba was a whole lot of sexy.

  Wall-to-wall sexy.

  She could look, but not touch. As he walked away, she reminded herself again.

  Look, don’t touch.

  Why Did Love Put a Gun in My Hand?

  Vanessa eyed Bubba’s outstretched hand doubtfully. Around her, the guests ate at their tables and cheerfully chatted. Diana, the bride, was making calf eyes at Mac.

  And Bubba had just informed her it was their dance. In order not to make a scene, she placed her hand in his, and followed him to the dance floor.