Do you agree that Crown Prince Xavier should become the next King of Ridgeland?
The public gets to decide. No more beating myself up about whether I deserve to inherit the throne. My people will answer the simple ‘yes or no’ question and decide my fate.
Grandmum thinks that the whole idea is preposterous. She threw an epic fit from her recovery bed when she learned of my decision. I interpreted her temper tantrum as an indicator that her health is improving. So there you go—silver lining.
I understand where she’s coming from, though. The vote is unprecedented. Nothing in the constitution requires the population to vote for the king. It’s a position that is inherited by birthright, not by election.
I'm prepared to accept the results of the vote either way. Yes, it's scary as shit but at least I'm not facing a criminal trial. Stanley and his family decided not to press charges. In his statement to the press, Stan said that all he wanted was closure in the form of a public acknowledgment and an apology for what had happened. I don't think that's too much to ask.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and my skin buzzes at the familiar touch. I glance beside me and Sadie is sitting there. She smiles at me, infusing me with a fresh shot of confidence and renewed optimism. "I love you," she whispers just loud enough for my ears only.
I reach for her hand over my shoulder and press a kiss to her knuckles, the heirloom emerald stone engagement ring on her finger scraping gently against my lips. "I love you, too."
This woman gives me strength. It was her love that gave me the courage to finally face my past, to own up to my mistakes. It was her faith that showed me that I am ready to take the Throne, but I have to be honest with my people first of all. If I'd never met her, I'd still be hiding, trying to evade my responsibilities but her love has empowered me more than a crown ever could.
There's a knock at the door and Thomas enters. "Your Highness, the results of the vote are in..."
Lord Kent gestures for the note in the secretary's hand. Thomas scurries over to deliver it. The envelope is sliced open with a letter opener and the lawyer carefully removes the sheet of paper inside. My fingers lock with Sadie's. Everyone holds their breath.
We wait.
The lawyer's narrow shoulders drop with relief. His eyes come to mine. "Well, bloody hell, Your Highness. Seventy-eight percent of the population deem you fit to lead the nation. Congratulations. You're about to become the next king of Ridgeland."
I leap to my feet hauling Sadie up along with me.
"You're going to be king, baby." She throws her arms around my neck and squeals. "You've got the people behind you!"
My heart races with pure excitement as I slide my mouth over hers in a celebratory kiss.
I'm going to be king. I've got the people behind me. And I've got Sadie by my side.
I can't lose. I'm inconquerable.
Epilogue
sadie
Folkshire Palace, Ridgeland
Three years later…
I stroll into the main south wing drawing room and drop my backpack to the floor with a thud. I’m exhausted after a long day of classes.
Xavier’s roaring voice comes from behind the massive desk where his chair is turned to face the window. “Thomas, get the Foreign Minister on the phone. We need to set up a phone call with the Portuguese ambassador because the terms of this proposed trade agreement are just preposterous!”
God—it turns me on when he roars like that.
Unfortunately, his roar doesn’t have the same effect on the Portuguese amabassador.
Anyway, I walk around the desk and come into Xavier’s line of vision. “Well, their demands might be preposterous but you’re not going to win any concessions if you make the call in that frame of mind.”
My husband’s eyes dart up from the thick sheaf of papers in his hands and a lustful expression takes over his features. “Mmm…Queen Sadie, do you have any suggestions for helping me improve my state of mind?” he asks teasingly as he flings the pile of documents onto his desk and pulls me into his lap. “A quick hand job, perhaps? Or better yet, a blowie?” His fingers are already climbing under the hem of my psychedelic-print shift dress. (Don’t judge me—I paired it with a string of pearls.)
I roll my eyes and slap him on the chest even as I allow him to draw me into a wet, stirring kiss. “That’s not what I meant, you perv.” I mess up his sexy hair with my fingers. “I was offering to be a sounding board, in case you want to bounce some ideas around for the trade negotiations.”
His expression morphs impishly. “Oh, right.”
“In fact, a few weeks ago in class, we discussed balancing divergent interests in cross-border trade agreements. I might be able to help.” I draw my fingers across his forehead, smoothing away the stress lines there.
He sighs in frustration. “Give it a go, darling.” He hands the document over to me and I flip through the proposal, skimming quickly.
“You’re right. These conditions are pretty demanding.”
“Exactly,” he says furiously. “They’re being completely unreasonable.”
I examine the papers more closely from my perch in the king’s lap. “But maybe if you offered to reduce the tariffs on these items—” I point to a long column of Ridgish imports. “Then, maybe you can get them to be more flexible on these items.” I flip the page to draw attention to a column of items that we export to our European neighbors. “Toss in a few incentives to sweeten the deal.”
Xavier considers quietly for a minute, his fingers dancing up my spine. “You have a point, sweetie…I’m thinking that might work.” He drops a kiss to my shoulder. “How did I get so lucky? My girl is smart, she’s beautiful and she has hot tits. Life is good, darling.”
Life is good.
I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Xavier is thriving in his role as king. He’s wildly popular with the people and on the world stage, he’s respected and admired. His grandmother is so proud of the work he’s doing as she enjoys her retirement.
As for me, I’m just a few classes away from finishing my business degree under the tutelage of some of the best professors in Europe. Plus, I just finished helping Reese and Viv organize the grand opening of The Broken Cupcake’s very first Ridgish location. Also, I’m spearheading Xavier’s multi-national philanthropic endeavours, overseeing the Rochdale Estate umbrella of charities.
My dad has been in excellent health and in excellent spirits since he had his device implanted. And as it turns out, having a nurse for a live-in girlfriend isn't the worst decision he's ever made. It might be one of the best. From what he tells me, she provides wonderful inspiration for his successful writing, too, but I’m not eager for details on what that implies.
And then, there’s the baby. The tiny ball of life growing inside of me, Xavier’s precious, little girl. The future heir to the Throne of Ridgeland.
I’ve come a long way from that smelly apartment in Ethel’s building in Copper Heights. And the best part is having the love of my life beside me every step of the way.
I’m so insanely grateful for my good fortune.
I kiss Xavier again and this time, it gets intense. I’m straddling him, my dress bunched up at my waist as his cock grows solid in his lap beneath me. I rock back and forth as he does the same. Things are about to get poppin’.
Right then, Thomas sticks his head into the doorway. “Oh, excuse me. Sorry. Sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt.”
Xavier looks over that way and grins. “Come in, Thomas. It’s fine.”
I slide out of Xavier’s lap and adjust my dress. Thomas gives me a cheeky grin before turning his attention to the king. “Sir, annual invitation to the Mating of the Brown Bottom Geese ceremony.” He sets the envelope on the desk.
Xavier rolls his eyes. “Confirm that we’ll be attending,” he says on a heavy sigh. He hates these events but they’re a necessary evil. Good for building morale among the citizens.
The secretary continues. “Also
, I received another letter from your father. He’s requesting that you come visit him in prison.”
“Not gonna happen,” Xavier says stubbornly as he does every month when the request comes. As far as he’s concerned, Edmund is lucky to spend the rest of his days rotting behind bars when he could have legitimately lost his head a long time ago for attempting to murder the Queen.
Thomas nods and makes a note on his pad of paper then turns his eyes to me. “Your Highness, your shipment of dollar store brand beauty supplies has arrived. I’ll have it sent to the residence.” He tries not to turn up his nose in disdain but I catch it anyway.
I laugh. “Thank you, Thomas.”
The man bows quickly and ambles out of the room.
Xavier smacks my butt. “What did I tell you about ordering those damn dollar store products? I’m banning them from this palace.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I tell him challengingly. “When my moustache gets out of control, it’ll be all your fault.”
He shrugs. “I’d still love you just the same. In fact, your moustache kind of does it for me, darling..."
My heart gallops and Baby Charlene flips over, pushing her foot into my bladder. "Awww...Your moustache works for me too, babe."
We laugh and we kiss again. And my heart riots madly as it always does each time I kiss my rebel king.
***
Thanks so much for reading Rich Boy. I hope you love Sadie and Xavier as much as I do :)
What’s next in the Blue Collar Bachelors Series? Dream Boy, the conclusion to the Blue Collar Bachelors Series is coming soon. Yes—Poor Sophia finally gets her happily-ever-after. (I know I put her through a lot. Sorry. Lol.) Anyway, if you think you’ve got Sophia figured out, think again. Dream Boy has got all the plot twists and all the feels. Check out the gorgeous cover at the end of this book. You can pre-order your copy by clicking here.
Be sure to check out the rest of the Blue Collar Bachelors Series while you wait. One-click Lover Boy (The Blue Collar Bachelors Book 1) to find out how Leo and Reese became lovers before they became everything to each other. Enjoy!
He's the hot single dad next door. My brother's best friend...And I want him to be my lover.
From the first time I meet Leo Montgomery, I know that I'm in trouble. His dark, heated gaze skittering down my body sets my skin on fire. A rare sighting of his elusive, heart-stopping smile and—dear lord—I think I just ovulated. But then, he hires me to babysit his adorable little troublemaker after school and now my maternal instincts are working overtime.
It was never supposed to be more than a harmless crush on my older brother's best friend.
But (accidentally) showing him my enormous, red granny panties was probably my first mistake. (Apparently, he's into that sort of thing.)
That slow, sensual kiss on the back porch didn't help matters, either.
We need an outlet for the combustible sexual tension between us. There's no denying it. But he says he can't be my boyfriend. He won't let me into his closely guarded heart.
I tell him that's okay. After all, we don't need a title. We don't need to be together. We can just be lovers. Can't we?
Well, as it turns out, the road to hell is paved with good intentions...and enormous, red granny panties.
Lover Boy is a steamy, laugh-out-loud, single-dad-next-door romance set in small town Illinois. It is book 1 in the Blue Collar Bachelors series.
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And here’s a preview of Lover Boy (The Blue Collar Bachelors Book 1)
Chapter 1
Leo
"Are we they'w yet?" a sleepy, little voice calls out from the back seat of Mara's beat-up, silver Ford Escort.
I glance into the rearview mirror and am met by a pair of dark brown eyes struggling to stay open under their heavy lids. His white sweater is two sizes too small and has ketchup stains from the fast food dinner we shared earlier. There’s yogurt crusted at the corners of his lips. That’s from breakfast.
He’s a really cute kid but in the short time that he’s been in my care, he’s started to look like one of those kids. Y’know—the kids you see streaking through the aisles of Walmart and you immediately start wishing that parents were required to get some sort of certificate to prove their fitness to raise children? Yeah, one of those.
Jeez, I don’t know how to be a caretaker.
A provider? Yes.
A protector? Damn right.
But a caretaker? Shit...With the headspace I’m in, I can hardly take care of myself.
He doesn’t know any better, though. All he knows is that he’s ready to get out of the confines of this damn car. His favorite soccer ball is clenched in one hand as he jams the thumb of his other hand into his mouth.
The thumb sucking. I wonder if that's new. Mara never mentioned it before. At least not that I remember. I'm struck by yet another wave of guilt. There's so much I don't know about my son. There's so much I'll never be able to ask his mother.
How the hell am I supposed to do this?
I’m woefully unprepared. It all happened too fast. One minute, I was out in the jungle sniffing out militant combattants. The next minute, I was back stateside, tugging my bawling toddler along as I dragged him away from the only home he’s ever known. Now, I'm in my car—Mara’s car—with a tiny stranger strapped into his booster seat, driving to a small town I’ve never been to take a job I’m unqualified for with an old friend I haven’t seen in years.
I can't remember the last time I took a breath.
Brenton's high-pitched voice rings out again. "Dad-dy..." he whines. With a jolt, I snap out of my reverie. "Almost there, buddy," I say as our eyes
meet in the mirror.
He lets the ball tumble to the floor. "You alweady said that a long time ago," he admonishes sternly and folds his little arms across his little chest. Well, damn. My tyke is calling me a liar.
My mouth opens and closes wordlessly, not quite sure of the guidelines for negotiating with pint-sized terrorists who live under your roof and call you ‘daddy’. Mara was good at this. She knew how to handle this...I think.
I've tromped through warzones. I've come face to face with some of the world's most ruthless killers. But no one, nothing has ever scared me as much as the snot-faced three-footer sitting in the backseat.
I'm responsible for him. Whether he turns into a devil or a saint is a responsibility stacked squarely on my shoulders and it's terrifying. How am I supposed to shape him into a decent human being when I'm so lost and depressed that I don't know right from left, let alone right from wrong?
"Is Uncle Charlie gonna play soccer with me in the backyard when we get there?" he asks.
"It's pretty late. I think that maybe we should save the soccer for tomorrow. Don't ya think?" I’m not sure that suggestion will go over too well.
"Nooo!" he shrieks histrionically, "No fair!" He tosses his head back and clenches his fists as if I just told him that his health insurance premiums are going up and his shifts are getting cut in half and the electricity is about to get shut off. Tears pour down his sticky cheeks and soap-opera-style sobs rip free from his chest.
Jeez, kid—it’s not that deep!
Anyway, that's how his latest mini-tantrum commences. Oh god, I feel a migraine coming on, tightening right behind my eyes. I try to rationalize with him, telling him that it's too dark, that he's too tired but from what I gather, four year olds don't respond well to logic.
I love the boy but thank god I only have one of him. I wouldn’t be able to handle duplicates.
Eventually, I break down, reaching across the console and opening up the glove box. I dig around—empty potato chip wrappers and gas statio
n receipts falling to
the floor—until I find a small stash of gummy bears. With one hand on the wheel, I bite down on the side of the package and tug sharply with my other hand, quickly opening the bag and stretching my peace offering into the back seat. My son hesitates for a second, contemplating my compromise. I squeeze my eyes in relief when he takes it into his tiny hands and his complaining trails off. Soon, his contented little hums are the only sound filling the cabin.
Feeding my kid pounds of sugar and food coloring to shut him up. I'm dad of the year. Where do I claim my prize?
Shit...this is going to be a disaster.
I veer off of the I-90 north and glance up at the highway sign glowing up ahead in the darkness.
Welcome to Copper Heights.
Let’s see how this goes.
Chapter 2
Reese
“Fuck the getting-to-know-you stuff—let’s just skip straight to the sex.”
I glance up from the pile of hot clothes that I’m pulling out of the dryer and stare over at my best friend. “You sound just like my last three dates,” I say flatly. I wish I were joking.
Nova flicks her wrist dismissively at me as she crosses her legs beneath her and trains her attention on my laptop screen in front of her. “Half of this quiz is boring. I’m not gonna sit here and ask you personality questions when we can just jump to the good stuff.” She giggles at my sour expression. "Okay, first question—how would you describe your ideal lover?" She turns her expectant emerald irises to me and drums the tip of her finger against the palm rest of the computer as she waits for my answer.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She’s taken it upon herself to sign me up on some online dating website despite my protests. I have absolutely no intention of searching for my next date on the internet, but I'll humor her for a few minutes.
Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5) Page 25