Bad Idea_Bad Boy Romantic Comedy

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Bad Idea_Bad Boy Romantic Comedy Page 11

by Bella Love


  I watched the bubbles sizzle up, then met his eye. “I hope this doesn’t ruin anything between us.”

  He was grinning. “Dude, why do you think I asked you to keep an eye on her?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Serious. I mean, I didn’t think this was going to happen.” He waved at Cass. “But I’m glad it did.”

  I sat back. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

  “What was I going to say? ‘Could you go fall in love with my sister?’”

  I eyed him skeptically. “Cass said you warned her off.”

  “I just warned her. I didn’t want her getting hurt.” He looked beyond me to Cass, sitting on my far side. “But getting hurt is better than being empty. And I think Cass was pretty empty before you. After you.” He looked at me. “It was always you.”

  I inhaled slowly. Always me.

  Cass was holding my hand under the table, but had turned slightly away to talk to someone on her left. Some of her hair spilled forward over her shoulder, leaving the curve of her neck exposed, pale and slender.

  “I’ll take care of her,” I vowed. “I swear it.”

  “You better. Or I’ll come hunt you down.”

  I looked over. “Dude, I have guns.”

  “Dude, so do I.”

  We grinned at each other.

  So that was my vow, then. To keep her safe, make her happy. To give my life meaning, and give her everything she needed.

  Yeah. That’s what I needed to do. That’s what I could do.

  “I don’t think she’s going to be taking that job with your father-in-law,” I said quietly.

  “Good,” Ben said, sitting back.

  “That gonna cause any problems for you?”

  Ben shook his head. “Nope. He’s met Cass at family events and he likes her. That’s why he offered the job when I told him about the coffee shop going under. He likes the way she thinks, how earnest she is. But he also knows what’s she’s made of.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Ben was looking at Cass. “She’d die in my world. She needs yours. Or at least, you. She needs funky and off-beat.”

  I don’t think anyone had called me ‘funky’ or ‘off-beat’ my entire life. Dangerous, scary, asshole: those were the words I’d heard. But I knew what he meant. I didn’t belong here, and neither did Cass. We’d make our own way.

  Ben swept his champagne glass off the table and tapped it to mine. “Dude, I fucking love you. And if you make Cass happy, I’ll be in your debt the rest of my life.” He lifted the glass and drank.

  Things had been dark for a long time, but right now, I felt as bright as the sunlight pouring into the room. I lifted my glass and drank.

  Peacock, who’d alternated between sitting on Cass’s lap, gnawing on my boot, and rummaging through my bag, somehow ended up on the far side of the room. A waiter stopped short and eyed him, then sent a warning glare at the high table.

  “Is he someone’s?”

  Cass and I both got to our feet. “He’s ours,” we said in unison, then turned and smiled at each other.

  “Well, he doesn’t belong here,” the waiter muttered and moved off.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Cass agreed, still looking at me. Still smiling. “You almost ready?”

  I reached for her hand. “Hundred percent ready. I’m not waiting for anything anymore.”

  19

  I LUGGED CASS’S SUITCASE down the elevator and out to my truck.

  “Will it fit?” she asked nervously.

  “It’ll fit. I have a truck. What the fuck do you have in here?” I asked, heaving it off the rolling cart when we reached the sliding front doors.

  She smiled at me. “Hair products.”

  “Jesus.”

  We stepped out into the cold, wintery air. The sun was out, the world fresh and sparkling.

  Cass bobbed at my side, a pink and red knit hat pulled over her head, hair falling over her shoulders, getting all mixed up with Pea who she was holding as she chattered like a little engine of happiness.

  “And we can pick up my stuff at the apartment?”

  “We’ll stop on our way west.” That sounded good. Headed west with my woman. And my dog.

  Pea was licking her chin. Cass didn’t even try to ward him off. She hefted him higher and rested her other hand on his back, holding him safe.

  “I don’t have much to pick up,” she said. “But I need to grab some clothes and my guitar. And my coffee cup pezzies. Although…” She eyed my truck. “They’re definitely not going to fit.” She shrugged happily. “So I guess we just ship them out right away.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Where you want to ship them?”

  She squinted at me through the sun. “To Rangers, right? You said they’d like them. So, we make up care packages with my dispensers and coffee beans and maybe some…what? Magazines? How about candy?”

  “You’re a smart lady.”

  Peacock was squirming in her arms, so she set him down. He started barking and took off at a run, snuffling his snout under the snow and lifting it as he went, tossing snow over his head as he ran for no reason but the joy of it.

  Cass bent and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it as she watched Pea romp. Then she angled me a look from under her dark brows and bounced the snowball in her hand once or twice.

  I started to smile. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “Do what?” She was all innocence.

  “Get in a snowball fight with me.”

  She grinned, then shrugged and threw it out in front of us. It arced high and landed a few feet from Pea. He went after it. Cass leaned against my side as we kicked through the snow, me dragging her heavy ass suitcase behind.

  “We’ll ship that stuff out if you want,” I said, “but aren’t you going to want those coffee things when you set up shop?”

  “Set up shop?”

  “A new coffee shop. Isn’t that what you want to do?”

  She laughed. “It’s about time for me to get a real job, stop dreaming my little coffee dreams. And I don’t have the money to start over, Trey.”

  “I do,” I said.

  Why the fuck should she stop dreaming? The world was going up in flames, people standing around stunned, like ‘what the hell happened here?’

  We needed more dreaming.

  Cass stopped short. “What?”

  “I have money.”

  She stared at me, her jaw dropped. “Money for what?”

  I shrugged. “Set you up.”

  “You’ll set…me…” Her words fell off, then she threw herself at me, hugging me, her knees hooking around my hips.

  I dropped the suitcase and slid my hands under her ass. I was going to have to start a different workout program if this was going to be her m.o..

  Peacock the Pup saw us doing something different and hit the brakes, came bounding back toward us, his little black and brown body hurtling through the snow.

  “No,” she said, kissing my mouth. “No way. I’m not borrowing money from you, but thank-you. Thank-you for…believing in me.”

  Her eyes were shining as she dropped back to her feet.

  I put an arm around the back of her puffy jacket and pulled her close again, squeezing the puff, ‘til all I felt was her. “I don’t lend money, babe.”

  She blinked. “Oh.”

  “But I definitely collect interest.”

  “Oh boy.”

  I tipped her chin up. “I’ll start collecting tonight,” I promised.

  “Okay.” It was all exhale. Peacock was running in circles around us, yipping excitedly, like we were his nucleus.

  My heart felt pretty full.

  I swung her suitcase into the back of the truck then scooped Pea up and tossed him gently in the cab. He clamored over into the back seat and pushed his nose up against the window, steaming it up, his tail going a mile a minute.

  Cass walked to the far side of the truck and swung the door open, then looked at me th
rough the cab. “I have a couple questions, Trey. Things we should probably hash out.”

  I dropped my head. “Shit.”

  “Do you like cards?”

  I looked up a little. “What kind of cards?” I asked warily.

  “Poker?”

  I rested my forearm on the roof of the truck over my head. “Used to play a lot.”

  “Yes. I know. If I remember, you and Ben drank a lot of beer while you played.”

  I grinned. “You play?”

  She sniffed. “I’ve learned.”

  “Bring it on.”

  She gave a clipped nod. “Okay. And…do you like to cook?”

  “Why, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Because I do, and I like the kitchen to myself.”

  “That is not going to be a problem. Do you leave dishes in the sink? Overnight? Or…for days?”

  This was no time to hedge. This was important shit. “I might do that last thing, but I’m flexible. If you need them cleaned up, I’m on it.”

  She exhaled in relief. “Okay, because I’m actually not very good at it either, but I can be on it, if you need.”

  I nodded. “We’ll flex on the dishes.”

  “Okay. And for the record, I don’t care how much money you have, I’m paying my own rent.”

  “Fine. I pay for anything when we go out.”

  She sighed. “You’re so difficult to get along with. Is it going to be a problem if I watch TV late at night?”

  “No fucking way. What do you like to watch?”

  “Old stuff. Classic stuff. Sitcoms, old movies.”

  I pictured watching sitcoms and movies with Cass, and my whole body relaxed.

  She stuck her hands in the pockets of her puffy jacket. “Okay. Then there’s just one more thing.” She sounded serious.

  “Shoot.”

  Her hand slid out of her pocket and she beamed me with a snowball, right in the chest. Snow sprayed up over my face.

  I looked down at the splatter, then stared at her in shock.

  “You got to be sharp, soldier,” she said, grinning. “Or I’m going to get you every time.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to remember—” I said, then lunged through the cab and grabbed her arm before she could dance backward. She tried to pull free but I kept hold and she was laughing as I dragged her halfway into the truck, both of us leaning across the seat, stick shift pushing against my hip.

  “You see how that goes both ways?” I asked.

  “Okay, okay,” she gasped around her laughter. “I got it.”

  I slid my hand to the back of her head and held her there. “You’re going to pay for that one,” I told her softly.

  She pushed forward a little and kissed me. “How much?”

  “You’ll scream when you see the bill.”

  Her eyes were bright, her mouth curved in that happy smile, the one I’d made into my mission: Make Cass smile, like this, every day.

  We spent a second there, kissing, then I released her, and we slid into the truck. Pea was running in circles around the back seat.

  “How much money do you have, anyhow?” she asked, pulling the door shut.

  “A lot. When I wasn’t deployed, I rented a small apartment, saved a lot. No wife. No kids.” No nothing. And now…Cass.

  “Hm.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not to me, because you’re not giving me money for a coffee shop,” she said firmly as she buckled up.

  “Damn straight I’m not. I’m investing in a coffee shop.”

  She stared through the windshield a second, then turned to me. “Trey…an investor.” Her words were hushed. She put a hand on my thigh, her eyes shining. “That’s a great idea.”

  “Yeah, I’m filled with them. In fact, I’m having one about your hand right now.”

  She slid it up an inch as I revved the motor. “I pay great dividends.”

  I threw it into gear. “Don’t I know it.”

  Peacock put his snowy fat paws on the seat between us and pushed his panting, smiling face between ours as I backed up and drove my little family off to get our future.

  I could see for miles now, and things didn’t look dark at all.

  I hope you loved Cass & Trey’s story in Bad Idea!

  Want more?? Yes!

  Read about Finn, Trey’s younger brother, in SPIN (sequel coming soon!)

  Buy SPIN now!

  Also by Bella Love

  Alpha Males.

  Hot Sex.

  Fun Banter.

  Spin

  Outside the Lines

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  Excerpt - Spin

  Dirty Sexy Romance!

  Janey Mac’s biggest client is about to launch her into the wealthiest enclaves an event planner could hope for. Bad-ass Finn Dante, the blue-eyed heartthrob from her youth, has no place on the maps she’s headed for.

  Too bad he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make her lose her cool.

  My phone rang and I grabbed it. God, I loved my phone.

  “Hello?” I said as I waved good-bye to Olivia, who was wafting out of the room and house, floating gracefully to her very expensive car to do something willowy, no doubt.

  It was the caterer on the phone. As she reviewed her numerous and very valid concerns, I turned and gazed out the window, nodding. Mrs. Lovey stood in conversation with a construction worker at the edge of their lawn, near the circular drive. She turned, pointing back toward the house, and I saw who she was talking to.

  Finn.

  My heart almost stopped.

  Faded jeans sat low on his hips. He wore a loose cotton shirt and exuded Big Bad, from the dusty work boots to the backward-facing ball cap, to his scruffy black hair and the way sex emanated off him like waves of heat, even at a hundred yards through a big bay window.

  Also, he was pissed. Yep, ‘pissed off’ emanated too.

  What was he doing here?

  My knees actually wobbled.

  I thought about all the things Finn had done in his life, all the lines he’d crossed, all the trouble he’d concocted simply by going his own way. I thought of the look in his eye down by the river when he toyed with outing me eleven years ago. I thought of last night, and the way he said he didn’t want to talk about his time in the military.

  Finn didn’t play with toys anymore.

  What would a man who didn’t care much for rules do, if a woman had walked out on him without saying good-bye?

  I felt fear.

  Minimize the damage. The mantra kicked through my fear.

  I could still hear the caterer talking on the phone as I bolted for the door. Flinging the door open, I eyed the expanse of lawn between them and me, then kicked off my shoes and hurried barefoot across the lawn.

  Only a true emergency could have made me do it.

  I sprinted over the cool green softness. Finn’s head lifted slightly and his sunglasses looked over Mrs. Lovey’s shoulder at me.

  I made a stern face at him. He didn’t move. I pointed a warning finger. He was like a brick, no reply. Then his face tipped back down and he said something to Mrs. Lovey.

  I hurried faster. I could hear the wind whipping past my ears. Or maybe that was my inner voice screaming horror stories at me.

  I drew up just behind Mrs. Lovey, breathless, tucking loose hair back in place and tugging down on my skirt. She turned and raised her plucked eyebrows high on her forehead.

  “Jane, I’m surprised. Mr. Dante here says—”

  “I can explain,” I said, breathless.

  She stopped. “You can?”

  “Yes,” I said hurriedly, pushing hair off my face. “We used to know each other, when we were kids.”

  She nodded slowly. She didn’t seem convinced. She seemed confused.

  “I’m sorry you were disturbed, Mrs.— Lovey.” I glanced at Finn. His sunglasses regard
ed me in silence. “This is a bad time, Mr. Dante,” I told him briskly. “I’m kind of busy. Maybe you could call me later? Or text me?” I added hopefully. Send a letter, put up smoke signals, anything that would keep him a safe distance from my body.

  I felt rather than saw his look harden.

  I turned back to Mrs. Lovey, who stared at me. “I’m so sorry you were disturbed.”

  “Jane, what is going on?” she demanded.

  “Can you please move?” I said to Finn, my teeth sort of gritted as I wrapped a hand around his bicep and tried to drag him off. It was like trying to move a boulder. “It’s all my fault, Mrs. Sandler-Ross.”

  “What is your fault?”

  The first glimmer of confusion threaded through me, and I had the thought I might not actually be minimizing damage here. I stopped, my hand still on Finn’s arm. “That I…that he….”

  “That he what?”

  “That he’s here. That you were disturbed.” I dropped my hand. “I’m sorry. He’s sorry.” I turned to Finn and hissed, “Say something.”

  He looked at Lovey and nodded gravely. “It’s all her fault.”

  Mrs. Lovey shook her head, exasperated. “Jane, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  My face flushed to my eyelids.

  “I simply want him to—”

  I nodded. “He’s leaving right now.”

  “—look at the circuit breakers.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  She made a faint sound of impatience. “My husband mentioned we might need additional circuitry, so I called Mr. Dante.”

  “Why did you do that?” I asked wildly.

  “Why, Jane, he built us the pavilion,” she exclaimed.

  “Right,” I breathed, nodding, trying to regroup. “Of course. The pavilion. Finn built you the pavilion. That’s why he’s here.” I turned and studied him and his stupid sunglasses. “You didn’t mention you built the Sandler-Ross’s pavilion.”

  “We were busy with other stuff.”

  I feared he was going to elaborate.

  Mrs. Lovey squinted at me. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

 

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