Daddy's Bossy Friend

by Charlize Starr

  She sighed. “Yes. What do you want?”

  “I need to show you something. There’s a car outside your apartment. I want you to go get in the car, gorgeous.”

  “Why would I do that? I’m not sleeping with you for twelve more days only to go through this heartbreak again.”

  “I promise you, I will not ask you for twelve days.”

  Brooke climbed out of bed and went to her window. His normal car wasn’t outside—there was a full stretch limousine. “Why the fancy car? Fancier car,” she corrected. His regular customized Mercedes was hardly drab.

  “The sooner you get in the car, the sooner everything will make sense. Please, I know I haven’t earned it, but if you could just give me a little trust today, you won’t be sorry.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “I’m not in the car.”

  Brooke glanced at the phone as if it could explain away her confusion. Slowly, she put it back up to her ear. “Then why am I getting in the car?”

  “Because it’s customary for the groom to not see the bride on their wedding day.” There was a slight chuckle in his voice. He knew how crazy this all sounded. Knew her curiosity would get the better of her because he also knew her.

  “We’re not getting married. We’re supposed to be getting divorced. Please tell me this isn’t some freedom party or something.” She walked over to her closet and started rummaging. She wasn’t getting dressed up. She didn’t care how Matt saw her, not anymore.

  “No, but it is a celebration. Just throw on some clothes, get in the car, and do exactly as my father says.”

  “Excuse me?” She’d been in the process of pulling a pair of jeans out of the closet, but she froze.

  “My dad is going to take you to a church. There’s a team there waiting for you, to do whatever you’d like. If you want to wear one of the white dresses I bought you, that’s fine. If you want to come in cutoffs and a t-shirt, that’s fine, too. What matters is I need to ask you something, in front of God and everyone we know. Will you come to the church?”

  For the first moment since she and Matt had agreed to stay married, Brooke had no clue what was happening. Even when they’d split up, she’d known it was only a matter of time. It was expected. This was not. “Yes.”

  She had to know what he wanted to ask her. She was sure of one thing—he wouldn’t gather everyone just to ask her for a divorce.

  ***

  Matt stood at the front of the church in his tuxedo. He’d been waiting a half-hour longer than the longest he’d anticipated. What if Brooke had changed her mind about showing up?

  He didn’t care if she didn’t want to wear the dress—would understand it, even. More importantly, he didn’t care what she wore or how she looked. He just wanted her to show up.

  He hadn’t heard a peep from either her or his father. The plan had been clear. Bring her to the church, hand her over to the makeup artist, stylists, and seamstress, and then his father would take his place in the church.

  Over the last two days, Matt had enlisted the help of nearly everyone he knew to make sure this went off perfectly. All their friends and coworkers had helped plan this and he was so proud they’d be here to help them usher in the best part of their lives.

  Matt had brought Brooke’s father here, and he waited by the door to escort her down the aisle. If she said yes, he intended to make sure she got the wedding she’d always dreamed about.

  Just when Matt was deciding that maybe he should go check in, see what had gone wrong, the doors opened. Brooke stood in the doorway, the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. She was even more breathtaking than usual, dressed all in white. He’d had several dresses and veils brought for her to choose from and left his mother’s diamond earrings for her to wear.

  She’d chosen perfectly. A gown fitted down to below her hips flared out and a veil fell in cascades down her back. She gave him a nervous look then saw her father and smiled at him.

  Matt’s father hurried to his seat on the front row. He gave a sheepish shrug when Matt arched an eyebrow at him. His father and Brooke had scared him out of his wits. He’d been a wreck, but she was here now.

  The music swelled and her father slowly walked her down the aisle, bringing her closer. Matt tried to remember all the things he wanted to say, wondering if he’d be speechless when the time came.

  She stopped and the pastor said, “Who gives this woman away?”

  Mr. Monroe said, “I do,” in a querulous voice. When Matt had called and told him what he wanted to do, her father had been thrilled.

  Brooke joined him up on the stage. Matt held out his hands and she took them both in hers.

  “Why are you doing this, Matt?” She murmured to him so that the room full of guests couldn’t hear her words.

  “Because I’m crazy about you. I’ve fallen so in love with you over the last few months.” “Maybe it’d be better if we talked in private.” She gave a pointed look at his father.

  He clutched her hands tighter. “He knows everything. I’m not ashamed of how we came together. I’m so grateful for that night, the night I really saw you.”

  “Is this for real? It’s not some game to grab power in the company or to keep me in your bed a little longer?” Tears rimmed her eyes.

  “It’s completely real, wife. The company will always be there, but I nearly lost you. I couldn’t let that happen. We’re a perfect team and we’ll be one for the rest of our lives if you say yes.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. She didn’t look convinced. “Will you please marry me again?”

  “Does that mean a family, too? Because I want kids.” Her voice shook.

  “A boat load, if that’s what you’d like. Just please, marry me—again. Forever this time.”

  “Yes.” She placed her lips on his and the room erupted in applause at the kiss.

  The pastor went on to perform the wedding ceremony. They both spoke their parts without too much fumbling. He couldn’t stop beaming at his wife.

  Matt would forever remember both their wedding days—the day fate had brought them together and the day they had finally found their way to each other, in love, and started their future.

  *****

  THE END

  Contemporary Romance: Daddy's Big Friend

  Description

  Men suck.

  My fiancé cheated on me with my best friend. So I left the loser at the altar.

  I really don’t want to deal with the entire town right now, so I talk my dad’s best friend into driving me up to his cabin.

  What I didn’t plan for is a snowstorm that traps us there for a week. Alone.

  He’s a resident playboy. I’m a virgin. No one has ever touched my body.

  He’d be perfect for a fling. He has a talent for pleasing the ladies, according to gossip.

  He’s also way too old, way too experienced and waaayyy too sexy for me.

  But we’re alone. Who would ever find out?

  Poor me, stuck with the attractive man who rescued me from my doomed marriage.

  What am I gonna do? Who’s gonna stop me?

  Chapter One

  Olivia Berlin clutched her bouquet and stared, struck mute, at her best friend and maid of honor. “You did what with my fiancé?”

  “I’m so sorry, Olivia. We’ve been sleeping together for two years. I just think you should know before you get married.” Tara gripped Olivia by the shoulders, so tight it almost hurt.

  “I don’t believe you.” Olivia shrugged Tara’s hands from her shoulders and looked around the room wildly. This couldn’t be happening. She was walking down the aisle in seventeen minutes.

  Tara snatched Olivia’s bare arm and pulled her closer. “He has a birthmark, on his ass. It’s shaped like Abraham Lincoln’s head on a penny.”

  Olivia’s eyes grew wide at this admission. Jared, her fiancé, had told her about this birthmark. He thought it was cool and would swear that’s exactly what it looked like. “He could’ve
told you that.”

  “He didn’t tell me, I saw it.” Tara crossed over to a chair and sat down, crossing her arms.

  Olivia wanted to tell her she was going to wrinkle her dress but wasn’t sure if it mattered at this point.

  “He likes to play tangle-the-tongues when he kisses.” Tara crossed her arms and went on. “And he leaves hickeys on my collarbone. He calls it his ‘brand.’ He—”

  Olivia put her hand up. She knew about the way Jared liked to mark her with a hickey on the collarbone, that he called it “branding.” And he did get a little aggressive with his tongue. Could Tara be telling the truth?

  Olivia sank down in the middle of the floor. Her dress rustled, the ballroom skirt ballooning around her. Her strapless sweetheart bodice, and the corset underneath, pushed her breasts up and out when she sat. Dear God, it was true. Jared had been cheating on her for the last two years. She lifted her face to gaze at Tara. “Why? Why would you do that to me?”

  “Because Jared’s dad has more money than anyone in this shitty little town. I never dreamed he’d live with you not putting out, this whole waiting until marriage idea you’ve had in your head since we were little.”

  “Jared said he loved that I wanted to wait.” Olivia swallowed back the lump in her throat. This had blindsided her. She didn’t know what to do now.

  “Maybe he did. Maybe he thought he’d just keep me on the side, and marry the pretty little virginal homecoming queen.” Tara stood up and approached Olivia, eyes narrowed. “But I’m nobody’s fool.”

  “So, you’re doing this because he was going to marry me instead of you? You don’t even care that the two of you cheating would hurt me.” It was more observation than anything. Tara obviously didn’t give a damn how this affected Olivia.

  How did it affect her? She glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes until the ceremony started. Olivia stood up and looked at her bouquet, then tossed the white and pink flowers into the corner. “You can have him. I hope he’s worth what you had to do to get him.”

  Tara glared at her. “What’s that?”

  “Screw around with your best friend’s man. My mother let you live with us when your mom died. I treated you like a sister for the last six years.”

  Moving so fast Olivia didn’t have time to react, Tara slapped her, snapping her head to the side. “You’re no better than me, ice princess.”

  Olivia raised a hand to her cheek, which burned like an oven. “I’m getting out of here. You can explain what happened to Jared, since you want him so bad.”

  She stormed to the door and opened it to look out in the alcove. Her father was nowhere in sight. He was supposed to be waiting there to escort her down the aisle. She’d have to talk fast—he wouldn’t be happy canceling a wedding, at the last minute especially, that he’d spent five thousand dollars to fund.

  Her dress alone had been nearly two thousand dollars. Now she couldn’t wait to get out of it. It was huge, white, ridiculous. It was supposed to reflect her choice to wait for marriage, to signify her purity. Suddenly, she wanted to strip out of the dress, because she felt childish and stupid. If she hadn’t wanted to wait, Jared wouldn’t have cheated on her.

  But, no. That’s not where the blame belonged. She was lucky he’d cheated before the wedding because now she could back out and not have to marry the slimy son-of-a-bitch.

  Everyone was seated in the church. The ceremony was slated to start in eight minutes. She needed her father, or, well, anyone. Tara would probably help her leave, but she wanted nothing more to do with her former friend. Tara had betrayed everything Olivia had believed about their friendship.

  The two people she’d trusted the most had gone behind her back and slept together. Her life was falling apart and, as usual, her father was nowhere to be found during a crisis.

  She needed out of here, right now. Her job as a hairdresser had given her two weeks off for her honeymoon. She’d find somewhere to go, to get away, so she could think.

  If she could find a ride. She hadn’t exactly driven herself here. Tara had brought her over before they got ready. And she wasn’t sure she could drive in four-inch heels. She supposed women did but she’d had no practice.

  She didn’t want to have to announce to the church that the wedding was canceled—let Tara or Jared do that. They were the ones who had decided to mess around behind her back.

  ***

  Flynn Wilder couldn’t believe what he’d just done. The wedding was set to start in five minutes, and he’d slipped out into the alcove to run out to his Jeep and get his phone. He could get out and back in before the ceremony started if he hauled ass.

  He was still waiting for the email letting him know if he got the contracting job to build the new hotel in town. They lived in a small town, where everyone was related by two or three degrees of separation and most usually had more than one connection to each other.

  He was here as the father-of-the-bride’s best friend, so it was kind of essential that he attend the wedding. But the kicker was, he hoped to speak to the groom’s father at the reception if that email hadn’t come through.

  Jared King, the groom, was the one and only son of the developer building the hotel.

  Opening the door to his Jeep, he grabbed his phone and made sure it was on silent. Even if he would be staring at it through the ceremony, turning the sound off was the least he could do.

  That hotel would be a boon for Flynn’s business. His profits would steadily increase, he’d be able to buy some more equipment and hire a few more guys, and keep his employees working for the next eighteen months.

  He looked up at the church. He had to be running out of time, but he checked his email all the same. Nothing new. Damn it.

  Stuffing the phone into the pocket of his black dress slacks, Flynn took off across the parking lot to the church at a brisk pace. He’d cleared the outer door and was almost to the doors to the sanctuary when he heard someone say, “Please help me,” in a small, quiet voice.

  Flynn turned to the alcove, where the voice had come from. Out of the shadows stepped the bride. She wore a dress that left her shoulders and arms bare, and it swept out in a lacy white bell from her waist. Her hair was up, but cascaded down her neck and back in tiny curls. She either didn’t plan to wear a veil or she hadn’t put it on yet.

  He pulled up short and looked around. There was no one else—she had to be talking to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find my dad and the wedding is starting soon.”

  Flynn looked closer at her face, which made her look like a sculpted beauty. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top and she had striking green eyes. Tears and mascara left streaks down her face. “Do you want me to try to find him?”

  “No… could you get me out of here?” She walked right up to him and, even crying, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. If she weren’t crying, if it weren’t her wedding day, he’d have wanted her instantly.

  Had they met in a bar somewhere, instead of under these unusual circumstances, he would have had to have her. Instead, he could only stare at her. “You want to leave your wedding? Why?”

  “Because my fiancé is a cheating piece of trash. With my best friend. The maid of honor. It’s so cliché, it should be a country song.” She stepped forward and took his hand. “You’re a friend of my father’s. I think we’ve met once or twice.”

  He wasn’t even sure how old she was. Early twenties? That put her half his age, give or take. Not that it would’ve stopped him in his bar scenario. He enjoyed younger women as much as any other woman.

  Regardless, between his bar fantasy—in which he took her home and bedded her, exploring the luscious breasts heaving out of her bodice—and the confession she’d made about the affair between the groom and maid of honor, he was struck speechless.

  “Will you get me out of here? I’m Olivia.” She frowned. “You probably know that since you’re here for my wedding.”

  “Sure, Olivia. I know who you a
re.” He held out an awkward hand. “I’m Flynn Wilder.”

  “Right. Resident playboy. No offense.” She shook his hand, looking nervously at the sanctuary door. “I need to go before the wedding starts. I can’t face all those people just yet. I know I’ll have to eventually, but I can’t do it right now.”

  Flynn put his hand on her bare shoulder and a shock shot through him. He almost pulled away. It made him hyper-aware of her bare skin, her breasts practically bursting from the top of the dress, of her long, espresso colored hair.

  Surely her father, Sean, would want him to help her since he wasn’t around. He wouldn’t want her to have to explain to the hundreds of people in the sanctuary why she couldn’t get married, would want her safe in the comfort that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do.

  “Come on.” He guided her with a hand on her arm toward the outer doors. He led her to his Jeep and opened the passenger door for her. It took them several minutes to get her dress inside the front seat.

  Finally, the lace and tulle floated everywhere around her, but none of it hung out of the vehicle. He slammed the door and crossed to the driver side. He glanced at her as he started the Jeep. “You sure about this?”

  “I’ve never been this sure about anything. Drive, please.”

  Flynn made his way out of the parking lot and turned east. In silence, they made their way to the edge of town. “Have you thought about where you want to go?”

  “I don’t have anywhere besides my apartment. Jared would follow me to the hotel if I went on the honeymoon alone.” She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I don’t know where I can go. I just want some peace while I figure out what to do next.”

  He felt terrible for her. She hadn’t asked for this situation. There was no excuse for cheating, and she deserved better. A thought occurred to him and was out his mouth before he could stop himself. “I’ve got a cabin in the mountains. It’s about an hour away.”