Bad For You: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Taylor Holloway

  Brandon nearly choked on his mouthful of beer and the group gathered around our living room sat up and took notice. Lara pulled out her phone and aimed it at Brandon, intent on recording his reaction. Lucy giggled and Eric shushed her. Faith, Daniel, and Mark stared, wide-eyed. Brandon paused and looked around at the assembled audience.

  “We literally just got married, Aimee,” Brandon replied carefully, staring from me to the baby with frightened eyes. “I mean, our honeymoon was last week. Are you sure you want to go straight to baby?”

  I smirked at him mischievously. “I was just testing you.”

  He exhaled in obvious relief and sank down into the leather club chair he was sitting in like he’d just been spared an execution. “Gee thanks.” He said with a little strangled laugh. “So, did I pass your little pop quiz?”

  I leaned over and kissed him. “Of course, you did. With flying colors. As always.”

  He growled and pulled me over the edge of the armrest and into his lap possessively. “I don’t want to share you yet,” he whispered in my ear. I snuggled into his chest contentedly.

  We were watching a football game at our house on Sunday afternoon. Our friends and family were strewn around our house, snacking, chatting, and generally being happy. I felt like all was right in the world.

  “So, what’s next for you?” Lucy asked me a few minutes later when I ran to the kitchen to grab more snacks. “If you aren’t going to have a baby right away, what is next on the agenda?”

  I was arranging vegetables and dip on a platter and I looked up in confusion. “Agenda? What agenda?” I asked.

  “Well, let’s see,” she said teasingly, stealing a baby carrot from the platter I was working on. She was a consummate food stealer. If there was food around, she was stealing it. “In the past six months you’ve managed to put the hospital back together from the chaos of the shooting, get Martin fully retired, rehabbed, and home. And you also got married and went on your honeymoon. Surely there’s more on that world-conquering list of yours.”

  I laughed. She was right. We’d had an insane half-year. I’d always been an overachiever, but I’d really outdone myself recently. Lucy had left out a couple of things, too. We also sold my little bungalow and then built and furnished our dream house. It was a wonderfully weird fusion of Brandon’s stark minimalism and my feminine shabby-chic vibe. Somehow, with the brilliant assistance of some very expensive professionals, the combination worked. We ended up with a house that felt very uniquely ours, but I fully acknowledged that we’d both had to compromise heavily on our aesthetics. There was no way Brandon could live with my lace pillows any more than I could deal with Brandon’s desire for entirely undecorated walls.

  In addition to building our house, we’d also adopted a cat, Gypsy. She was hiding somewhere right now because she wasn’t all that fond of babies or crowds, but she was kind of the light of my life. I hadn’t wanted to get a cat, but when Fr. Wheeler found the family of strays living behind St. Vincent’s, I fell in love with the tortoiseshell runt of the litter. I took her home on a whim and surprised Brandon with her.

  Brandon had initially been hesitant, but then she snuggled up on his lap, purred and fell asleep, and he melted like so much butter. The big tough military doctor never had a chance against a snuggly little furball of love. He didn’t even want to share her with me after that. They took naps together now after he got home from work every day, and if she didn’t get her love time with Brandon she was very put out. He was a proud, affectionate cat dad now. It was pretty great.

  “I’m pleased to report that there is absolutely nothing on the agenda at the moment other than living my life with my new husband and trying to run a hospital.” It felt awfully good to say it, too. I did not need any more major projects in my life for a while. I was exhausted, although it was exhaustion in the best possible way. I was very satisfied with the way things were shaping up.

  “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound like a lot,” she replied, grinning from ear to ear. Her hair no longer had the green streaks from a couple of months back. Now it had pink and purple ones that framed her face in long pastel ringlets.

  She’d totally changed her look since leaving the hospital. She wore more colorful makeup and clothes now, along with super high heels, and trendy jewelry. She’d even gotten a teeny-tiny nose ring and a couple of small tattoos. She was, definitively, much cooler than me in so many ways. I felt fancy if I put on mascara in the morning. Sometimes, I didn’t even brush my hair, just piled it on top of my head with a big claw clip and called it good enough. Not everyone could be fashionable, and I’d come to terms with the knowledge that I was one of the duds. At least Brandon seemed happy with me. Given that we both pretty much lived in scrubs, it was a moot point anyway. I got the feeling that I was now seeing the real Lucy and not the version who had to work at Catholic hospital just to make rent every month. She never belonged at St. Vincent’s. It had been hard to lose her, but I was happy that she was happy.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Are you ready to start filming?”

  Lucy grinned at me and nodded with wide eyes. “I’m so ready. So ready. All these delays have been crazy annoying, but we’ve finally got the final script and all the cast and crew. We can finally, finally, start filming next week. I’m sick of doing my entire job behind a computer. I’m a social person. I want to meet people face to face.”

  I’d been following the adventures of Lucy the media maven with a voyeuristic enthusiasm over the past few months. She was doing all kinds of weird, glamorous, exciting things in her new job, even though the production delays had meant it was all done via conference calls and emails. Still, Lucy was really flourishing in her new role and it was fun to watch.

  “Is it normal to have this many delays on a production?” I asked her, figuring that shooting a movie was probably pretty complicated.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I think it is?” She shrugged and laughed lightly. “Honestly I have no idea if it’s normal or not. This is still very much my first rodeo. And since this is the first movie for Lone Star Pictures, I guess it’s not too surprising that it would be hard. But we’re going to make the best movie you’ve ever seen so trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”

  “The best movie I’ve ever seen is Jurassic Park,” I told her. “That’s a pretty high bar.”

  In fact, Lucy and I had been watching a bunch of blockbuster movies lately to help get her ready. I was becoming something of an expert, although I was definitely not in Lucy’s league. Not yet, anyway.

  We made a point to get together at least once a week. I’d been working on making sure I did at least one normal, social thing every week. And it couldn’t involve Brandon at all. It was important for us both to have friends and social lives of our own. We were working really hard to make sure that our marriage had all the elements that would keep it healthy and strong from the very beginning. We figured it was easier to set things up right from the get-go rather than end up in couple’s therapy when we screwed it all up. So far, it was going well.

  “Spielberg or bust, baby,” she replied with a sly grin. “Shoot for the stars!”

  Epilogue

  Lucy

  Aimee shook her head like she was positively mystified by me. “I’m still impressed that you managed to talk your way into a job in the entertainment industry.”

  I couldn’t help my laugh. “I know right? I was scared shitless that first day. I had no idea what I was walking into. None. And then the second day was worse, because I knew how clueless I actually was. But they keep letting me come back. So that’s a win.”

  I was still figuring things out, but at least I wasn’t stuck at my dead-end job anymore. I mean, when compared to Aimee I was the most unaccomplished person in the world. The woman was my age, and a freaking doctor. A newly married doctor. My BFF ran a hospital and lived in a giant mansion with a gorgeous man who obviously adored her. I squashed down the feeling of inadequacy when it tried to re
ar up.

  I was happy for her. Really. With all my heart. Except that one little jealous corner I tried to pretend wasn’t there.

  “And now?” She asked, smiling at me in a way that was so encouraging it made me feel guilty for being envious of her. “How do you feel about everything?”

  I smirked. “I’m not coming back to the hospital, no matter how much money you throw at me.”

  She giggled. “Oh please. I wouldn’t try. I wasn’t even suggesting that.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “What’s that saying? Fake it ‘till you make it? That’s me every day.” I was faking the heck out of my new job. Faking like a boss.

  “I doubt that.”

  “It’s not all new,” I said after a moment’s thought. “In some ways, my new job is a lot like my old job. I still fetch coffee, answer emails, organize stuff, and schedule food and meetings. You know, secretary activities. But I also get to do crazy things like pick out extras, help with the costumes and makeup, help block the shots, and occasionally run lines with the actors.”

  But every day was new and different. I felt like a bamboo shoot, growing and stretching every second. It was a good feeling. And an exhausting one.

  “Have you met any cute actor guys yet?” she asked hopefully.

  Now that she was happily settled herself, Aimee had begun gently and carefully probing my continuously single, lonely lifestyle. She’d been there for me during my last painful breakup, now more than a year ago, and had apparently decided it was time for me to move on. She wasn’t wrong, either. I could use a… something. A someone. Someone that didn’t treat me like a disposable toy this time, preferably.

  “A couple.” I shook my head. “Actually, it’s more like a couple hundred. We had an open audition for a supporting role a few weeks back and every hot guy in the tri-state area showed up. It was a veritable buffet of manly hotness. Sadly, I was too busy working to collect phone numbers.” I frowned. “It was a missed opportunity, but then again, actors tend to be a bit... how do I put this delicately? They tend to be self-centered assholes.”

  Aimee laughed. “I guess it takes a lot of ego to be an actor, huh?”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s putting it mildly. Most of these guys have their heads so far up their butts that they can see the back of their own teeth.”

  “That’s a very confusing visual,” Daniel remarked. He’d come in from behind me, probably hunting for food. “What are you two talking about in here?”

  “Men,” Aimee replied.

  “I like men,” my roommate replied simply, sliding on top of a nearby kitchen stool. He grabbed a handful of cherry tomatoes to snack on and regarded us seriously. “Continue.”

  “Lucy could use a good one,” Aimee continued after a careful look at me. “A man, that is.”

  Daniel nodded. “You’re telling me. She’s been living with me for the past year. She doesn’t get much action. In fact, she doesn’t get any as far as I can tell.”

  “You know I’m standing right here,” I said, rolling my eyes and plucking one of the tomatoes out of Daniel’s palm.

  He shook his head, clearly worried he’d overstepped and offended me. “I’m just teasing, Lucy. I like rooming with you, and I appreciate that you don’t bring weird guys home. But it wouldn’t kill you to go out now and then.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I’d moved in with Daniel because I couldn’t stand another damn second with my evil ex-boyfriend and hadn’t had a date since. I’d been luckless with men since day one. Ever since I fell hard for Peter Prince when he played Romeo in the middle school play and I got cast as the damn Nurse. I had to watch him smooch Eva Lawrence over and over. I was cursed. I popped the tomato in my mouth to cover my discomfort.

  “I’m too busy to date. I’m focusing on my career right now,” I said weakly after I swallowed. “Romance is off the table until this production is done.”

  Right then my work phone beeped, and I rushed to read the text. Anything to get away from a discussion about my dismal love life. It was my boss.

  Come to the office right now. I’ve got something incredible to talk to you about. Do you want to meet one of the hottest men in Hollywood tonight?

  If you enjoyed ‘Bad for You’, you’re going to love the other eight books in the Lone Star Lovers series. All the books in the series share locations, events, and characters. See more of Aimee, Faith, Eric and other familiar characters as they make their twisted, heart-pounding journeys toward their own HEA’s.

  ‘Admit You Want Me’ is the first book in the Lone Star Lovers series. This steamy second-chance romance features shy grad student Emma and her alpha jock Ward. Click here to read it now or turn the page for a sample.

  Admit You Want Me

  Special Teaser

  ‘Admit You Want Me’ is the first book in the Lone Star Lovers series, featuring Emma and Ward.

  Prologue: Emma

  “Come on, Emma!” Kate cried, banging on my bedroom door for the fifth or sixth time. “You can’t hide in there forever. I’m sure you look fine. People are going to be here soon.”

  I glanced at the clock. She was right. It was almost go time. I slid into my green, marabou trimmed boudoir slippers and straightened my sheer tights. I had a bad feeling that I looked more than a little bit like a stripper.

  “Just a second,” I yelled. “I’m almost ready.”

  I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, poked at my fake eyelashes, and adjusted the mesh and wire wings strapped to my back. The wings were already annoying me, but not as much as the length of my dress.

  My Tinkerbell costume was much sexier and more revealing than I’d thought it would be when I bought it online. My boobs were threatening to spill out of the bright green satin bustier, and the nearly transparent matching skirt just barely made it halfway down my thighs. This is what I got for trusting the photographs on eBay. It would just have to do. The only other option at this point was cutting a couple of eye holes in a sheet and going to our Halloween party as a ghost.

  “Wow,” Kate stammered when I opened the door a second later. “You look amazing!”

  I smiled nervously. “It’s not too slutty?”

  Kate shook her head. “It’s the exactly right amount of slutty. The fact that it’s your real hair up there in that silly bun is what makes it.”

  Kate was blonde for Halloween too, but her flowing, gold Rapunzel hair was a wig. Our Halloween party was Disney themed and our apartment looked a bit like a five-year-old’s birthday party (but with way more booze). I grabbed myself a cup of the pink punch and tried to work myself up for being social.

  My current pair of wings notwithstanding, I was not a natural social butterfly like Kate. If it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t have any friends. Moving in with Kate at the beginning of my sophomore year was the best decision I could have made for my social life, even if it meant living inside a kegger one night a week. This Halloween party promised to be no exception.

  Costumed people began to trickle into our apartment, armed with beer, smiles, and excitement. I struggled to fit in. After the disaster that was my freshman year at a school back east, coming to the University of Texas had been a case of serious culture shock. They don’t call it a party school for nothing, and I’m a natural introvert and a bit of a nerd. Before coming here, I’d never had a drop to drink.

  Unluckily for my liver, I was also a quick study. I’d determined that I hated most beer, most wine, and anything with a harsh liquor taste, but I loved anything sweet and fruity. Thankfully, Austin had a number of local breweries that specialized in ciders, shandies, and even sour beers.

  “Are fairies supposed to be drinking, Tinkerbell?” someone asked me when I went to grab another apple cider from the fridge. I spun around and straightened, surprised.

  Kate’s brother, Ward, was leaning against the door. I hadn’t realized that he’d followed me. I straightened abruptly, hoping my ass hadn’t been totally exposed by my tiny skirt when I bent
over.

  My breathing sped up and I felt myself biting down on my bottom lip nervously. The hand not clutching a bottle sent fingertips to my hemline and found that my skirt had ridden up a bit. Yeah, he’d definitely just seen my ass. His cocked eyebrow and even cockier smile told me that he had appreciated it, too. I felt a hot flush burn my cheeks.

  It didn’t help that he seemed to know exactly what he did to me every time he came around, although this was only the third time I’d met him since Kate and I moved in together in August. I couldn’t hide my attraction to him at all. He teased me mercilessly at every opportunity, and it felt like he did it just to see me blush. He clearly found how bookish, quiet, and prone to embarrassment I was simply hilarious.

  I wasn’t shy for his entertainment. I wished I could be different. But I would never be an extrovert like Ward, or his sister. Even dressed up like Tinkerbell and pumped full of alcohol, I was still just doomed to be a wallflower.

  Ward and I stared across the kitchen at each other. Usually, I turned into a stammering mess whenever he was around. Thanks to the magic of alcohol, that wouldn’t be happening tonight.

  I flicked my gaze up and down his figure and then did my best to tear my eyes away again. It was all I could do not to sigh dreamily. Broad shoulders and an obviously muscled chest narrowed to a slim waist and long legs. Powerful, sinuous arms ended in large, strong-looking hands. But it was his classically handsome face, with fair skin, dark blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and dark curly hair, that made my heart pound against my ribs.

  “Who are you, the morality police?” I smiled at him confidently and floated across the kitchen floor toward him. I was buzzed and feeling good. Brave. For once I was brave. “I might be underage, but at least I follow directions. You’re not even wearing a costume.” I leveled a finger at his chest and pushed him back an inch. He laughed lightly.