Accidentally Engaged

by Nikki Chase

  We chatter for a few minutes more before Dean checks his watch and swears.

  “I’m going to be late for work, thanks to you two. I’ve got to rush. Let me know what your plans are okay?”

  He kisses me on the cheek, and then he and Brock have a somewhat awkward hug.

  It may take a while for them to get back to how they were, but I know it’ll come. Their friendship is too old and strong to be destroyed by something like this.

  He charges out of the front door, leaving Brock and me alone. We sit in silence for a few moments, just staring into each other’s eyes.

  “Is it really okay for you to be missing work?” I ask. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t really care, to be honest with you. What’s Luke going to do, fire me after years of loyal service? Nah, he’ll understand. I’ll make some calls and do some delegation for once. If I can’t get someone else to do my work for me, what kind of a boss am I?”

  “Yeah,” I say dryly. “Normally, that role is reserved for me. Let someone else take a turn.”

  He grins. “See, now you’re getting it. I’ll make a manager of you yet.”

  He picks up his phone and wanders outside, talking animatedly. I watch him while I finish my coffee—I love to see him in command like that, taking charge. It’s so damn sexy.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it when I first got this job, dating the boss does come with benefits. And for today, at least, I’m happy to take advantage of them.

  Brock comes back in a little while later.

  “All done,” he says with a satisfied smile. “We’ve both got a leave of absence for the rest of the week to deal with ‘personal issues.’ So what do you want to do? Where do you want to go? I’ve got a ton of air miles saved up, so we can pretty much go wherever we want.”

  I walk over to him and put my hand on his chest, kissing him slowly, deeply on the lips. “I don’t know. Don’t care, really, as long as I’m with you.”

  When Brock speaks, his lips brush against mine. He pulls me close and presses his hips against me, letting me feel his hardening cock through his pants. “I do have a certain . . . personal issue that I need dealt with. Maybe you can help me with that.”

  “Of course, Mr. Evans,” I say, a smile curving my lips.

  Brock grins as he dips down, then with no warning, lifts me off my feet. I squeal as he carries me back into the bedroom.

  We return to the office the next Monday morning—tanned, relaxed, and feeling good. A few days on the beach was exactly what I needed. No phone calls, no emails, no nothing. Just sun, sand, the Pacific Ocean . . . and Brock.

  We pull up outside the office in his car, and he groans.

  “Ugh . . . back to the grind,” he says with a grimace. He pulls himself up straight and checks his appearance in the mirror. “It was almost like this place didn’t exist when we were out there on that beach.”

  “Do you want to go first, or shall I?” I ask.

  The previous couple of weeks, we’ve been deliberately coming into the office separately, even though we arrive together every morning. If people see us walking in together every morning, tongues are going to start wagging.

  “Why don’t we just go in together?” Brock asks.

  I stare at him. “Aren’t you worried people will gossip?”

  “Let them. It’s not against the rules for us to be dating,” he says with a shrug.

  I hesitate for a moment. “No, I guess it’s not.”

  “So screw them. Maybe I’ll even make out with you in the middle of the office.” Brock grins, then laughs when he notices the panicked look on my face. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

  As soon as we walk into the office, I can feel every pair of eyes fixed on us, following us.

  As Brock enters his office, I go to my desk, catching up on the mountain of paperwork that’s been deposited there.

  I’m just getting into the swing of things when Paula drops by my desk.

  “So . . .” she begins tentatively. “You and Brock . . . is there something . . . going on between you two? Sorry to pry. I just couldn’t help but notice.”

  She doesn’t look sorry at all. She looks hungry for some fresh, juicy gossip.

  “Yep,” I say matter-of-factly. “We’re dating. Engaged, actually.”

  I throw her a smile and get back to work while she stands there, not knowing what to do with herself now that she’s got her scoop so easily.

  “Well . . . uh, congratulations,” she stutters before scurrying back to her desk, no doubt eager to share the news with everyone who’ll listen.

  I’m surprisingly okay with that. Brock’s right—let them talk. Maybe it’ll be a bit awkward for a few days, but everyone will soon get bored of gossiping about us. Better this way than sneaking around forever.

  Brock laughs when I tell him later that evening about the encounter with Paula in the office.

  “Man,” he sighs, “it’ll be nice to not have to sneak around anymore. Luke seems cool with it. He trusts us to be able to stay professional while we’re working.”

  “It might mean no more making out in your office, though,” I remind him.

  “What?” Brock puts on a shocked face. Shaking his head, he says, “This was a mistake.”

  I laugh.

  “Not even a quickie in the supply cupboard?” he asks.

  “Well . . . maybe I can fit you in on a quiet day,” I say.

  Over the next few days, I spend most of my time at Brock’s place, only making trips back to mine to pick up clothes and toiletries.

  One afternoon, just as I’m packing yet another overnight bag, Brock stands, hands on hips, and looks around my little apartment.

  “Why don’t you just move in with me?” he asks. “It seems a bit silly to keep paying for this place when it’s not much more than a glorified closet these days. I’ve got plenty of space.”

  This should be a big, momentous decision—one I need to sit down, and take some time to consider. But it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

  And so we do. Just a few days later, my lease is canceled, and my stuff is moved into Brock’s lovely townhouse.

  Life is pretty much perfect. I feel content, happy, and settled. I also get to do something that I was never allowed to do when I was with Peter—have friends.

  I reach out to some of my old college buddies that he forced me to stop seeing and even make some new friends. It feels weird, actually having a social life—people who want to see me, spend time with me. That takes some adjustment.

  But it doesn’t take long, and soon my life is just how I had always pictured it—with a wonderful guy who appreciates me for who I am, a respectable, settled job, and surrounded by good friends.

  As for Peter, I’ve filed a restraining order against him, and now I never see him anymore.

  I can’t quite believe things have worked out so well for me. A couple of years ago, in the depths of the worst times with Peter, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who’d dare tell me this was what my future looked like.

  The sun is just setting over the mountains on the horizon. Brock and I are sitting on the dock by the lake house, socks off, dangling our feet in the cool water. We’re sitting mostly in silence, holding hands and just enjoying the scenery, basking in each other’s company.

  “I can’t imagine life without you,” Brock says softly. “I can’t imagine coming here without you, coming home from work and not seeing you, waking up every morning and not having you there, sleeping next to me.”

  I turn to look into his eyes and smile. “I feel the same way. You complete me, Brock. I know that sounds like a line out of some cheesy movie, but I get it now. I know why people say it. It feels like something was missing from my life before you came into it.”

  We kiss, lingering and passionate. When we come apart, he’s fumbli
ng in his pocket.

  “Need help taking off those pants?” I tease. I’d be up for a reenactment of our first time together.

  But then Brock pulls out a little velvet box. My breath catches in my throat as he opens it.

  “Oh Brock,” I sigh, “it’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Brock grins.

  I glance down at my ‘fake’ engagement ring. I’ve been wearing it since we got back into Denver from Seattle. “What are we going to do with this one?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I’ll pawn it or something. I picked out the first one I saw that day, just so that our little ruse would be convincing. Dean helped me pick this one out. I figured he might know what you like better than I do. He said it’s similar to the one your Mom wore.”

  Tears spring into my eyes as I realize he’s right. It looks just like it.

  Brock takes my hand in his and kneels in front of me. “Nina, will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?”

  I look at him, at the perfect backdrop of the lake, at the mountains, at the moonlight . . . In front of me is the man that I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve never felt more certain about anything in my life.

  “Oh Brock,” I say, tears of joy streaming down my face. “Yes, I will.”

  Brock slips the ring onto my finger and kisses the back of my hand. “I love you.”

  Epilogue

  Brock—One Year Later

  Time seems to evaporate when I'm with Nina. I know she feels the same too, which makes it all the more magical and unreal.

  We've spent a lot of time and effort organizing the wedding, and my head is still swirling as I turn to look over my shoulder and see a figure dressed in white walking slowly toward me.

  I can barely hear the music and see the rows of people watching from either side, so transfixed I am by the sight of Nina walking toward me in her wedding gown, face glowing behind her sheer veil.

  The ceremony passes in a blur. Dean smiles at me with a wide grin as he stops near the altar, and I manage a weak smile back, my knees uncharacteristically weak as I turn my gaze to the vision of beauty I’m about to marry.

  Before I even know what’s going on, we’re stating our wedding vows. I reel off my vows like an automaton, throat dry and hoarse as I struggle to get the words out.

  "You may now kiss the bride," rings out the pastor’s voice.

  I lean forward to take the veil in my two hands, Nina's obscured face smiling up at me as I lift the white linen from her.

  I lean in to wrap my arms around her and kiss her gently. My wife.

  The sight is met with a few muffled cheers from the onlookers. The hard part over, I take Nina's hand confidently into mine as we walk toward the exit, showered with confetti and cheers of support.

  It's later in the evening, and Nina and I are mingling with guests as we flit about, trying to make sure we speak to everyone present.

  Nina is constantly adjusting her dress, casting furtive glances down at her stomach as she does so, looking up at me sheepishly every time.

  "Don't be silly," I whisper in a rare moment we manage to get alone. "You aren't even showing yet. No one can see anything. Trust me."

  She smiles up at me, beaming broadly. I'm staggered again by her beauty and the way her pregnancy seems to make her glow with femininity.

  Her womanly figure has filled out even more. More than once, I’ve had to avert my gaze from her, desires rising unbound within me.

  There’ll be time for that later, Brock. Control yourself.

  "Hey, is that . . . ?” Nina asks suddenly as a couple approaches from out of my field of vision.

  My blood turns to ice for a split second as I’m filled with worry that the couple might be Rosa and Philip.

  But then I remember that I showed Philip the texts I’d gotten from Rosa and they’re now getting divorced. I can’t take the full credit for the divorce, though—my whole extended family basically staged an intervention to tell him everyone was concerned about how badly she was treating him.

  So Rosa wasn’t invited to my wedding. And if she dares to show up, my relatives would be happy to throw her out of this hotel.

  "Brock!” a voice shouts.

  I grin as I recognize Luke's voice booming over toward me.

  "I never thought we'd make an honest man of you,” he quips, holding his hand out in front of me.

  I pull him into a bear hug, and he grunts at the embrace. "Good to see you, Luke. And you too, Tessa. How's Kayleigh?"

  Tessa smiles warmly and gives me a hug, pecking me on the cheek. "Oh, she's great. Congratulations you two,” Tessa says, clapping her hands together in delight. She gives Nina a knowing smile. "On both counts."

  "What? But how did you . . .“ I look over at Luke, who seems to be completely clueless as to what’s going on.

  "Women just know, Brock. You'd better get used to it." Tessa grins and turns to face Nina, their arms intertwined. "Well, I would let you have Kayleigh's baby stuff. But, well . . .” Tessa glances at Luke. "We're hoping for a second one on the way some time soon. We just need Luke to work his magic again . . .”

  "Whoa, talk about graphic details,” I manage to say.

  Luke pats me on the shoulder as the four of us walk together toward the bar.

  "Well, I’ll tell you what, Tessa,” Nina says. “Once these two squeamish boys are over themselves, what say we plan a date to go shopping for baby stuff? Girls only."

  Tessa smiles at Nina's words and they start chattering, words flying between them faster than any mortal man could keep up with.

  "Well, these two can't have any of the good stuff," Luke says quietly, and I clasp him around the shoulder as he waves the bartender over. "Two of your finest scotch whiskies, my good man! Make them large," Luke shouts before gesturing toward me. “He's paying!"

  A little while later, as we sit before our main course, a loud clink of metal on glass rings out, silencing the bustling throng.

  Sorrow pangs in my chest and I reach down to clutch Nina's hand. Tradition would mean that her father would speak first, but that’s not possible.

  She smiles up at me bravely with misty eyes, and I lean in to kiss her gently on the cheek.

  I start to rise, mind going over the words I'd prepared in my head, but Dean is up before me, silver spoon still tapping against the champagne flute in his left hand.

  Dean is both my best man and Nina’s man of honor today. I smile up at him, glad to have the attention taken away from me.

  He walks over to the center of the room, taking a deep breath as all eyes swivel toward him.

  The murmur of noise in the room fades to silence. Dean looks around, making sure he has everyone’s attention. Then, he smiles at Nina and me.

  "Now, as I'm sure most of you know, Brock and I go way back. He's, well, sort of like a brother to me I guess you could say."

  Dean's words are met with a chorus of voices murmuring sweetly.

  He continues, “A brother who’s marrying my sister, that is. Kind of messed up, if you ask me.”

  Raucous laughter rings out.

  Dean waits for things to calm down, putting a hand in his pocket. “Honestly, I was a little worried when I suggested that my little baby sister work for Brock. The eternal bachelor . . . well, I should say, the ex-eternal bachelor.

  “Anyway, I knew deep down she had feelings for him. And well, she wasn’t the skinny kid she had been when she used to have this huge teenage crush on him.”

  I look down at Nina to see her blush, squeezing her hand tighter while laughing along with our wedding guests.

  "And I must have been psychic or something,” Dean says, “because I dropped by their office one day and there they were, making out. My sweet little sister and my best friend.

  "To put it bluntly before all of you here, I felt like I had failed to protect my little sister, the one person I care more about than anything else in the word."

  I gl
ance around to see a few hands raised to wipe a tear from the eye, or to stifle a sudden cough.

  "But then, after a little . . . falling out let’s say, I realized that Brock wasn't playing my sister. He wasn't preying on her. I realized that he loves her deeply. And she loves him, too."

  Silence hangs in the air, everyone hanging on Dean's every word.

  "And I see now that they need each other,” he says. “They belong together. Nina, and Brock. I wish I could have seen it at the start. But I see it clearly now. I've never seen you two happier, my two best friends. And it's wonderful."

  A somber applause rolls out across the hall, and Dean turns away from the crowd to wipe at his face for a quick second.

  He turns back to face us, raising his glass into the air. "Now, before I do something stupid like start crying, I want to raise a toast to these two. Mr. And Mrs. Evans, together in marriage as they should be. To the bride and groom!"

  The whole room erupts, people to our left and right jumping into the air. Hands clap me on the shoulder.

  I’m overcome with emotion. I try my best to fight back the tears of joy threatening to spill out. I feel a gentle brush from a delicate finger and peer down to see Nina looking up at me, love in her teary eyes.

  I lean down to pick her up into an embrace, and the room cheers again as we kiss deeply.

  I can picture our whole life ahead, playing out in front of us. And I’m the happiest man in the world.

  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Nina and Brock’s story

  To read Tessa and Luke’s story, check out Accidental Husband.

  Curious whose relationships Rosa has tried to ruin in the past? (She’s a real trouble-maker!) Read Protecting His Baby, His Captive, and Claiming His Baby.

  Again

  A Second-Chance Romance

  Prologue

  “You look amazing tonight,” he says as he takes another step, closing the gap between us.