by J. L. Beck
Contents
Title Page
Contents
Copyright
Note to Readers
Newsletter
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Thank You
The Baby Arrangement
The Baby Contract
About the Authors
Big Bad Daddies
Punishing Their Virgin
Save Me From Myself
Punishing Their Virgin
Teasing Daddy's Best Friend
Their Best Friend's Little Sister
Taking What's His (Bad Boy Alpha's #1)
The Billionaire's Nanny
Their Spoiled Princess
Mr. Alpha (Mr. Series #1)
Mr. Heartbreaker (Mr. Series #2)
His Obsession
Their Spoiled Virgin
Their Spoiled Brat
Hung
Off Limits
Big Bad Daddies: A MFM Romance
Seducing the Virgin (Sold to the Billionaire #1)
Seduced by the Billionaire (Sold to the Billionaire #2)
Taken by the Billionaire (Sold to the Billionaire #3)
Lumberjack Love
Babysitting Love (A Single Dad Romance #1)
C#ck Tease (My Dad's Best Friend Romance #1)
Extra Credit
Their Virgin
Bossy (An Office Romance #1)
Dirty Deeds (An Office Romance #2)
Stepbrother Daddy
Filthy (A Stepbrother Romance #1)
Royal Prick (A Stepbrother Romance #2)
Dangerous Ties (A Ties Novel #1)
Severed Ties (A Ties Novel #2)
Bittersweet Reunion (The Complete Series 1-5)
Nashville Secrets
Save Me From Myself
Everything I Shouldn’t
Pretending He’s You (re-releasing mid-2018)
Everybody but Us (releasing late 2018)
Nashville U (as Stacey Mosteller)
Looking for Trouble
Looking for Pleasure (releasing mid-2018)
Novella's
Never Wanted More
Written with J.L. Beck
Big Bad Daddies: A MFM Romance
The Baby Arrangement (The Winston Brothers #1)
Copyright © 2018 by JL Beck & Stacey Lewis
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Cover Design and Formatting by Stacey Lewis
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I stare down at the freshly shoveled dirt as they lower my father’s casket into the ground beside my mother. Knowing they are finally together and at peace should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. It makes me want to down an entire bottle of Jack Daniels just to see if it will dull the pain.
Blinking away the tears in my eyes, I focus all my attention on Fallon. She’s standing beside my brother, Reed, as he reads the eulogy, her hands cradling her swollen belly. I envy Reed in so many ways. He has Fallon now, the woman he’s loved for as long as I can remember, and they’re having a baby and planning a wedding thanks to Dad and his plotting. I want to be mad at him, because I know he was Dad’s favorite, but I can’t be. I can’t even bother to care that Remy was Mom’s today.
They’re both gone now, so what’s the point of bitching and moaning about it? I had my chance to complain and I didn’t.
“My father,” Reed clears his throat when it breaks. “Our father.” Reed’s eyes meet mine for a second before moving to Remy’s as he continues to read off the paper in his hands. “He wouldn’t want us crying for him right now. Dad would want us to celebrate his life.” I roll my eyes, blocking out the remainder of Reed’s little speech. I don’t want to hear about how we should move on and let go of the pain we are feeling. I mean, damn, the man is barely in the ground and we are telling each other to move on, to let go.
I shake my head, listening to the birds chirping off in the distance. It’s a beautiful day for a funeral. I hate when people say that, but it’s true. The sun is shining high in the sky, and a gentle breeze keeps the warmth of the day from being stifling. There’s only a small group of us here, and I know every single person by name, because they’re family, an employee, or someone Dad did business with.
Though, as I scan the small crowd, listening to Reed drone on, my eyes catch on someone I don’t know. A petite, pretty woman standing in the back of the room, almost behind Roger, a man who is just as old as my father was. A large black hat shields her face, but from what I can see, she has glossy chestnut-colored hair. I tilt my head sideways, trying to identify her from nothing more than her body shape and unique hair color.
It’s not fucking working, and that irritates me.
“So, today when you go home, I want you to think about all the things you have. I want you to cherish each and every moment you have with the people around you, because just like that, everything can be taken from you.” Reed ends his speech, clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Am I heartless for not crying?
It’s not that I don’t want to or that I’m not sad. I just can’t. I literally can’t cry.
Shaking the thought away, I join my brothers as we each take a scoop of dirt and drop it on top of the pristine white casket. I don’t speak to either of my brothers before starting my car. I need the stiffest drink Chicago has to offer.
; “Ryker,” Fallon’s soft voice meets my ears, causing my steps to falter. Even if I wanted to keep walking, I can’t. I’m weak when it comes to Fallon, always have been, always will be.
“What’s up, future sister-in-law?” I try to keep my voice as light as possible, trying to hide the pain from my voice, the sadness, the disappointment, but I know Fallon can see right through the bullshit front I’m putting up.
“Seriously?” She puts her hands on her hips and looks at me sideways. Ever since the night I made her take that pregnancy test, there’s been this strange bond between us. “What’s going on? You’re just going to walk away from your father’s funeral when your family needs you most?” My gaze lifts to the view over Fallon’s head. Reed is shaking hands with everyone, thanking them for coming as if it’s some kind of party or something, while Remy just looks on, indifferent about everything.
“Yeah… I’m going to say they don’t need me, Fal.” I raise my eyebrows, watching as her face contorts with a number of emotions. I don’t dare say another word, not until she’s decided how she feels at this moment. She’s pregnant, and even if I am pissed and grieving, she doesn’t deserve to have me take my emotions out on her.
“They might not look like it, but they do.” Tears fill her emerald green eyes, and I want to wrap her up in my arms like I did the night she found out she and Reed were expecting, but I can’t. I won’t. I need to get away, to be alone so I can think things through before these thoughts eat me alive. Sitting here discussing the technicalities of our father’s death isn’t going to help.
“I’m sorry, Fal, but I need some time to myself to digest what’s happened and deal with my emotions my own way. If that’s selfish of me, then so be it, but I’ve got to do what’s right for me.” I force a smile and stare down at her. She doesn’t say anything, so I take her silence as agreement and turn away, walking the rest of the way to my car.
I don’t hear her call out for me again, nor do I hear Reed or Remy, and even though I want to be alone, I almost wish they’d care that I’m leaving.
Grinding my teeth together, I push the emotions down—way, way down until I’m sure I’ve buried them. It almost hurts to force myself to be devoid of emotion, but I have to be, or I won’t ever leave this cemetery.
Opening the car door, I slide across the worn leather with ease and remove the jacket to my suit. Where I’m going I don’t need a suit; hell, I don't even need a name. I just need a bottle of something brown to drown out the pain.
The engine roars to life, as soon as I turn the key in the ignition. I almost chuckle thinking back to the day Dad gave me the car. It was one of his favorites, and he had it restored in preparation of my eighteenth birthday.
A 1966 Ford Mustang, 347 Stroker, with black interior and black paint. I used to joke that it matches my soul, but now I wonder how much of a joke it actually is. Losing my father is almost like losing a part of myself, and the longer I dwell on it, the angrier I get.
“Forget them. Forget their pain,” I mumble to myself, squealing tires out of the cemetery. They’ll survive, but will I?
I look down at the dress I’m wearing, then to my reflection in the mirror. It isn’t anything special, designer, or even brand name. It’s just a hand-me-down dress my mother would wear when she and my father had date nights, which didn’t happen very often.
It was the color of Red Hot candies and fit me like a glove, like it was actually my dress, not my mother's. Growing up poor makes you aware of all the things you do or don’t have. On the rare occasion you do get something new, it’s a miracle if you can contain yourself.
“Ready?” Gabby, one of my two roommates and close friends, pops into the bathroom at the bar we’re at, The Starlight.
We chose this bar out of all the others the city has to offer because as newly graduated college students, the drinks are cheaper and the crowd is friendlier. I don’t know if I’m really ready, but I shrug my shoulders at Gabby and then pull open the door. I’ve spent the last five minutes in here smoothing my hands up and down my dress and feeling unworthy of wearing it.
“You look beautiful, Ava. Now, let’s drink and dance the night away, because even if Marie isn’t with us, we can still have a damn good time.”
I nod, giving myself one more once-over in the mirror, adjusting my silky blonde hair before I walk out of the bathroom.
The bar is dimly lit, and my heels click against the floor loudly. I almost worry they can be heard throughout the bar, but the place is packed, and music vibrates through the speakers as a band readies themselves on the makeshift stage.
“We need two glasses of red wine please,” Gabby orders from the bartender. He gets our drinks together quickly, and I relish in the sweetness of the wine against my tongue. I gulp it down like it’s water, letting it warm my belly. I feel calmer, more relaxed, and even though I’m sad that Marie can’t be here to celebrate with us tonight, I vow to make the best of it. I gesture to the bartender for a refill, and as I turn on my stool to face the stage where the band is, my eyes catch on something, or more like someone.
His face is hidden in the shadows of the bar, and even without getting a good look at him, I can tell he’s hot as fuck. He leans against the bar top, swirling the contents in his glass around and around. I’m mesmerized by his mere presence, something that’s never happened to me before when it comes to a man.
He must sense my eyes on him, because a second later, he looks up from his glass, piercing me with a pair of the stormiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. The air stills in my lungs, and my belly tightens when I see them narrow.
“Holy fuck, do you see Mr. Serious As Hell over there checking you out?” Gabby leans into my ear and whispers, and I wonder if she realizes I’m staring at him right now, that we are literally eye fucking each other.
He’s looking straight at me, which gives me the chance to really take him in. His hair is dark brown and looks to be shorter on the sides but a little longer on top, the perfect length for running your fingers through…and damn would I do exactly that right now.
I shake the thought away, taking the glass the bartender places in front of me and bringing it to my lips. My movements are jerky and slow as I tip the wine glass back, letting the wine coat the inside of my mouth.
A flush starts to creep up my chest and over my face, my entire body growing warmer with each second we continue to stare at one other. He’s perfect in every way, with an angular jaw that looks as if it’s been carved out of stone, and a strong nose that I can tell has never been broken.
I watch as his lips pull back in a small smirk, showing perfectly straight white teeth.
Fuck, Ava, you are so out of this guy’s league, I say to myself before swiveling back around on the stool, downing the glass of wine the bartender just refilled. Mere minutes ago, I was feeling calm and relaxed, but now I feel flustered, hot, and needy. I want that man, even without knowing his name.
How slutty is that?
“Is he still staring at me? I feel like he is,” I whisper to Gabby who sips on her wine slowly, wiggling her eyebrows, and I don’t know if she’s doing it at me or the hot businessman across the bar.
“Oh he’s definitely staring. He’s practically undressing you with his eyes,” Gabby announces, causing me to hit her in the arm playfully.
“Seriously? He could have any woman in this bar, so why is he staring at me?” I wonder, the question directed more toward myself, not Gabby, but she answers anyway.
“Did you see yourself tonight? You look edible, like lick, nibble, lick, repeat. Come on, girl! You’ve got every guy in here drooling over you.” My cheeks heat further, and I’m sure I look like a tomato by now.
“Stop it, Gabby. You’re embarrassing me.” I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, picturing the fire in the mystery man’s eyes. How can he have me so hot and bothered without even speaking to me? Without me even knowing his name.
I want to smack myself for thinking I could ever actually have a cha
nce with him. Instead, I let Gabby feed me what seems like an endless supply of wine and try to forget about him. Four glasses later and I am more than ready to make some bad decisions.
Gabby and I walk on wobbly legs onto the dance floor. We’re both bubbling over with laughter as the band starts playing some hardcore rock. My head’s woozy, and it takes everything in me not to look at Mr. Serious. Not knowing his name has earned him a nickname instead. I dance until sweat forms against my brow and I have to take a break so I can get myself something to drink.
Sensing Mr. Serious’s eyes on me, I turn in the direction of where I last saw him and freeze, my brows bunching together as I try and figure out where he went. I’m devastated when I realize he’s left, even though I shouldn’t be. He’s just a stranger in a bar…not my soulmate.
“Looking for someone?” There’s a smoothness to his voice, and I don’t even need to turn around to know it’s the man I was looking for.
Mr. Serious.
I turn quickly on my heels, swaying slightly as I take in his form. My eyes trace up over his chiseled torso, one that’s covered by a shirt that’s perfectly tailored. Even wearing clothes, I can tell this man is athletic. He clearly works out a lot, because his body is way too perfect to just be good genes.
One side of his mouth pulls up in a smile, and his blue eyes flicker with heat. I swear there’s a bit of sadness in the look he gives me, but it’s gone too fast for me to be sure.
“No,” I lie, my eyes sliding away from his penetrating gaze. It’s like he can see my every thought, and suddenly I’m glad I drank all that wine. If I hadn’t, I know I’d be running away from him.
My blood stirs as I examine him closer, my body leaning farther into his. He smells of whiskey and cinnamon, his scent tickling my nostrils, and it tempts me forward with each passing second. Mystery Man looks and smells good enough to eat.
He clears his throat, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Are you sure you weren’t looking for someone?” Mystery Man asks, his breath fanning against my face, his knuckles gently caressing my cheek and forcing me to look up at him. I feel a jolt of electricity flow through me at his touch, one that causes my insides to tingle and my thighs to press together.