Released: MC Secret Baby Romance (New Adult Contemporary Biker Romance)

by Casey Elliot

  I scoffed. I knew the guy was too gorgeous not to be a douchebag. Hell, they all were. His smirk turned into a wide smile just before he turned to look at me, seemingly amused. “And what is your story?” he asked, emphasis on “your.”

  “Drowning my sorrows, same as all these other dudes, I’m sure, except they’ve been drowning theirs for about ninety-two years.” I didn’t even care if the old leeches looked my way. They’d been staring at my tits for the last twenty minutes anyway.

  Ben and Jimmy both laughed. “Well, Jimmy, pour me a shot of tequila. Give her one too. My tab.”

  Jimmy nodded, and I shook my head. “No, that’s not necessary. I prefer drinking alone.”

  “Come on. Let me buy you one. You can sulk by yourself if you want. May as well have a free one.” Did he really think that I was going to bend over backward for a free drink? I chose to say nothing. Instead, I scooted my barstool further away from him and looked away. The bartender laughed loudly, and I could tell that I was making this Ben guy uncomfortable by the way I felt his body shift beside me.

  His ego was getting bruised, which was fine with me. What sort of asshole hit on a girl, obviously in a slump? I mean, unless he thought I looked attractive for some ungodly reason at that moment. I had my brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants with some flip-flops, and absolutely no make-up. I looked worse than the homeless women I passed on the way to the bar.

  “Are you always so closed off?” He pulled my barstool around to face him, and my God, when my eyes locked on to his, I was death glaring.

  “Are you always this creepy? Back off, dude. I don’t know you. I will pepper spray you.”

  “I’m Jimmy’s friend!” he laughed, gesturing to the bartender.

  “And, what’s that supposed to mean to me?! I don’t know Jimmy.” I looked the bartender up and down. He was laughing hard – quietly, but hard – and I watched as his chest rose and fell animatedly and his face grew red.

  “Well, Jimmy is a good guy.” He had a wide smile on his face as he made his way to sit at the stool next to mine. I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, Jimmy,” I said, turning my gaze back toward the bartender. “I hear you’re a good guy. Would you like a drink?”

  Jimmy smirked.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ben said, waving his hands in the air. “He’s a good guy, but he’s not that good!”

  I raised my brow. “Well then, why bring it up?”

  “I’m saying Jimmy can vouch that I’m a better guy,” he whispered, leaning forward. I could tell he was used to getting his way, not that he was even close at this moment in time.

  “Well Ben, Jimmy’s cuter.” That was a lie.

  Jimmy chuckled. “I like this girl.”

  “Me too, oddly enough,” Ben trailed, turning toward Jimmy. “Well, friends and I are throwing a get-together Friday night. If you’re done sulking, you should swing by.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, thanks.”

  He smirked, still leaning over me. “Come on. You’ll have fun.”

  I rolled my eyes again and turned away from him once again, swearing to myself that if he even tried to turn my stool around again, I’d deck him.

  “Give me a pen.” I felt his body shift as if he was reaching out toward the bartender, and then back again. “If you change your mind,” he said, just before sliding a note over to me, “this is the address.

  It took a lot of doing, but I didn’t even bother looking at it until he was gone. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  “Well played,” whispered Jimmy, as soon as the bar doors closed behind the stranger. “I’ve never seen anyone give him a run for his money like that.”

  And with that, I slung down the rest of my drink, followed by a shot. “The best cognac in the house. It’ll set his tab back a pretty penny,” Jimmy said, winking.

  I smirked, grabbed a hold of the small glass, the chill of the liquid tingling my hands – or maybe I was just drunk off my ass and my entire body was tingling – and slung it back.

  ***

  “You got an invite to a party?” That was the only part of the entire story Melinda had seemed to hear. Forget the fact that my ex was marrying my ex-best friend. Forget the fact that I drank more than I ever had in my entire life, and that I was alone in a bar and gave a guy a big ‘fuck you’ by making him pay for a shot after he’d already left and couldn’t even begin to reap the benefits of it.

  I wasn’t even sure why I told her about the party. I guess part of me was flattered. Truth was, though, I had no intentions of going. Not only was I off the market for a while, he was a total dick... a cocky dick.

  “It’s a house party. What sort of grown man has a house party?” I asked, as I curled up on Melinda’s sofa.

  “Is it his house?” She moved toward me, two glasses of lemonade in hand before curling her leg beneath her and plopping down beside me.

  “I have no idea, Melinda. How would I know that?” I rolled my eyes. There was something about a best friend that could make you feel so incredibly annoyed you’d rather pluck your tongue out than tell her anything else.

  Melinda was a good friend, though. She was also friends with my ex-best friend – she who shall not be named, as we referred to her. Melinda, being a good friend, dropped her as soon as she started fucking my ex. That was a severe no-go.

  “You have to go,” she snapped, handing the glass over to me. The ice clinked with force, as she shoved it in my face. “Hell, take me too. He said he had friends.”

  I groaned.

  “Dude, this is your chance!” Melinda busted out. “You’ll get over Craig by getting under someone new!”

  “This guy is a total tool bag. I’m not getting under him.”

  “You don’t have to date him! Just get under him! Your ‘prince charming’ will come along eventually.”

  I rolled my eyes. Did people really think that sort of shit worked?

  “We have to go to that party, Cade,” she snapped again before slamming her glass on the coffee table, and grabbing hold of my shoulders. “You’re going. I’m going. We’re going to have a good time.”

  “Besides,” she laughed. “It’s not like you’re going to be doing anything else this weekend.”

  My mouth fell open in offense. “How do you know?”

  She scoffed and threw me a knowing look. She knew everything. I told her everything, but even if I hadn’t, she’d still know it. She had birds all over the place feeding her information.

  I almost wish I hadn’t been so open, though, because from the look in her face, I could tell that I wasn’t going to get out of this very easily.

  Chapter 2

  I felt the cool breeze of the evening air start to shift in as I left the bar that early-evening. I was honestly hoping to have the highly attractive chick tied to my arm to keep me warm, but she didn’t seem to want any part of it. Just as well, though. I had to meet up with my dad, and it was too damn early for a one-night-stand to begin.

  With every step I took toward the office building, I felt more and more dread. I knew I was going to hear more nagging about how I needed to get my shit together, and how I needed to be more prominent with the company. What he never seemed to understand though, was that I liked taking a backseat.

  I liked being lower on the totem pole. I didn’t want the responsibility that he had.

  My eyes fell over a hot red-head with a tight black dress on; her fiery hair flawlessly falling over her shoulders, as her lips basically beckoned me toward them. They were full, luscious – almost as if they had been swollen from a passionate kiss, and were begging for more.

  My fucking God, I wanted to give her more. She wore a nice flowing dress with an Aztec-looking design throughout. It fit close in the chest and flowed away from the rest of her body, its hem falling right at mid-thigh.

  I bit my lip. Seeing women like her was an amazing reminder of why I didn’t want more responsibility. I wanted time to play, an
d god damn it, play I would with her.

  I tossed a wink at the woman, a sly grin on my face. It was my signature move. And then, as if I couldn’t care less, I looked away, ignoring the look she flashed my way like it didn’t matter in the least. But I knew it was on me. I could feel it. I could feel her frustration, her confusion – the nagging question: why was he looking at me only to look away? I smirked. I could feel it. I knew she was staring me down as I continued to walk away, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing that I wouldn’t ease her confusion.

  Normally, I would have done that sort of thing at a bar or a club, and gone back to her later that night after some sort of chance encounter. Just passing a woman on the street and doing it wasn’t usually something I did, but it was fun, on occasion. Just to make sure I still had it.

  The spring weather felt nice. The breeze was gentle, but cooling, and the sun was still shining high. It was getting darker later in the evening, finally, which was why I was still able to walk on this side of town without being in the middle of a traffic jam of bodies. This stretch was jam-packed with restaurants and bars on both sides that were swarming with people as darkness came.

  I rubbed a shoulder or two with my own as I moved passed, but other than those few times, I didn’t have any problem. Just after maneuvering around a couple, I caught a glimpse of who I was looking for.

  My dad.

  “Hey,” I said as soon as I approached him. He looked tired, maybe even a little bored, as he slouched against the stoop of the building. “I figured you’d want to meet a little closer to GMI.” GMI was our company; a medical technology company creating the world’s most innovative technology for the future of medicine. At least, that’s what I was told. I was never good at being involved with business affairs.

  “We decided it was a nice evening, so they wanted to have an early dinner out on one of these patios.” He stretched his hand out to gesture toward the patios in the area, and I nodded just before he turned his gaze back toward me, his face turning serious. “You should have been there, as the co-owner of the company.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You didn’t have to make me co-owner. I’m not the president, and I’m not the vice president. I’m low on the totem pole.”

  “Because you choose to be,” he interrupted, shaking his head, clearly irritated. “But, you’re still co-owner. You should be meeting with shareholders. You should be taking notes because, whether you like it or not,” he continued, as he got close to me and put his hands on my shoulders, his face serious, “when I’m gone, it’s all yours.”

  “Jesus, is that day coming soon?” I joked. Truth was my dad and I weren’t on good terms until recently. I was a fuck up. I had always been a fuck up. I’d been arrested a few times – drugs, not complying with police orders, violation of parole, that sort of thing. I was pretty much the black sheep of the family. I was pretty much the exception to my family’s perfection.

  “Funny.” He wasn’t amused, I could tell. But I was. I smirked at him.

  “So, where’s your car?” I asked, my neck craning toward the street.

  “You want a hot dog?” That definitely didn’t answer my question. I was scanning the street for his brand new Mercedes, and he wanted to ask about a hot dog?

  “Did you not just eat?” I asked. My brow was raised, confused as hell. My dad wasn’t one to eat more than once a day as it was, let alone right after a business meeting at one of the nicer restaurants in the area.

  “It was that shitty French food. I hate French food. You know that.” He was grumbling. I didn’t know what it was about French food that he hated so much, but it was always something he was adamant about. Honestly, it surprised me that he even agreed to go to one, shareholder or no shareholder.

  “Always going to be that kid from the Bronx, huh?”

  He laughed, nodding. “Well yeah, son. I just left the Bronx. It didn’t leave me.”

  I smiled, almost a little more fondly than I would ever admit. I was actually really proud of his accomplishments, if I was telling the truth. I was blessed to have a dad that had actually worked for everything he had. It gave him a lot of character. Sometimes though, that character was a little too much for me to handle. It made him a pain in the ass. It didn’t help matters that he had to work extra hard to convince everyone that he wasn’t that kid from the Bronx. And he did that by being a complete, stuck-up asshole.

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  Game Time - Football Romance

  Chapter One

  “Excuse me darlin,” a voice called. My hand stilled, a sigh escaping my lips. I didn’t have to turn around to recognize the voice. A large group of old-timers who were now past drunk had ended up in my section at the diner and had spent the majority of the night cat calling and slapping my ass every time I walked by. Stuffing the rag back into my apron pocket, I turned on my heel and did my best to smile as I approached their table.

  “What can I do for you?” I said, addressing the man who has become their unofficial leader. They were all dressed in football shirts and caps and were obviously out celebrating the latest success of the local football team. I stood patiently, waiting for the man to recall why he had called me over, all the while feeling his friend’s eyes burning into my bare legs.

  “Bring us the bill, won't ya,” he said, a sly grin on his face. I had barely made it more than a step in the direction of the register before a firm slap came square across my ass. I turned to confront my assailant, my teeth gritted.

  “Come here, darlin,” he said, looking up at me with a slimy grin. I resisted the urge to slap him firmly. I knew that would bring nothing but trouble, and I needed this job and the money. His friends laughed.

  “Aw, he don’t mean no harm,” his friend offered, comfortingly.

  “The bill,” I said firmly. There was no mistaking my tone. It was time for them to go. It took ages for them to leave, shouting and hollering, as they headed out into the night and onto the next bar.

  Amongst the litter and debris that laid strewn all over the large table, lie a single $20 bill.

  “Did you at least get a good tip?” A voice from behind me called. The voice belonged to Ashley, and it wasn’t long before she joined me considering the debris left behind. Without saying a word, I flashed the $20 in her direction before stuffing the bill in my apron pocket.

  Ashley winced. “Ouch.”

  “At least, they are gone,” I said, sighing. Picking up my plastic bin, I set to work collecting the dishes and returning them to the kitchen.

  “I’m taking a break," I called to the front of the house, after finally clearing the table. The diner was quiet now. The early dinner rush was over, and now the punters would come in a steady stream. Checking the time on my phone, I could see several missed calls and messages lighting up the display. Christina, I thought to myself, that girl would not take a hint. Opening the conversation, I could see reams and reams of unread messages, which I had ignored over the last few months.

  Hey babe, I’m back in town now getting ready for my big day on Saturday. That’s right, Skye, I'm getting married!!! Of course, you will be there, right?

  Call me.

  Made reservations for tomorrow, lunch time at La Trevia, 1 PM. See you then.

  Switching off my phone and stuffing it back into my apron pocket, I took a swig from my lemonade and thought back to the last time I had seen Christina. It was a few weeks after graduation before we had both gone our separate ways. Christina had headed straight to L.A., determined to become a famous actress, and I was ready to pack my bags and guitar and head straight for Nashville to a prestigious music school. I knew Christina, and if I didn’t turn up tomorrow, she would come looking for me, and that was something I was keen to avoid.

  The bell tinkled as I shut the diner door behind me and walked out into the night. The night was quiet as I waited for the bus that would carry me home. I didn’t have to wait long to reach
home, my feet aching after a long, double shift. Fishing the keys out of my pocket, I pushed open the door and headed into my apartment.

  “Becky?” I called through the din of the apartment. The radio blared and in the small space, the sound of banging pots and pans echoed as if I was in a studio listening to a rock concert. A head popped around the corner, sweat and dirt streaked across her face, smiling when she saw me.

  “Look who’s home!” she announced excitedly.

  “Mommy!” At the sound of my daughter’s voice, all the worries of the day simply melted away, as she catapulted herself through the kitchen door and into my waiting arms. Her own blonde hair and bright face were marred with dirt and sweat. Licking my thumb, I tried to wipe away the dirt from her face as she giggled, trying to escape my frantic cleaning.

  “Having fun, Emmy?” Her bright blue eyes danced as she rattled off the adventures that she had that day. Straightening up, I turned my attention back to Becky who stood leaning against the door of the kitchen.

  “We had the best day. We went to the park, came home for a bath, but somehow, we ended up making music with the pots and pans. Sorry about the mess,” she said, nodding back toward what I was sure was an Emmy whirlwind in the kitchen. I shrugged. All I cared about was Emmy’s happiness and safety, not having a neat and tidy house to come home to each evening.

  “As long as she’s happy,” I said with a smile. Fishing out a handful of notes that I had earned with today’s tips, I gave Becky her wages. She didn’t count them, just simply slid them in her shorts pocket and shrugged on her satchel.

  “Same time tomorrow?” Becky asked as she crossed the small apartment toward the front door.

  “Yes, please,” I said gratefully. Becky waved her hand goodbye and shut the door quietly, leaving Emmy and I alone in the apartment.

  “Well, kiddo, looks like it’s just us again,” I said, ruffling her hair as Emmy hugged my legs tightly.