I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that this poor man is clueless or the fact that he's wearing a kilt. Just. Not Sure.
"So, whatcha say, Clarabelle? Ya ready to get hitched?"
When Roman and I planned everything for the wedding we'd overlooked the fact that I'd need someone to walk me down the aisle. Apparently Dirk was listening because five minutes later he busted through the door, waving his hands like a loon, screaming, "I'll take one for the team!"
I caved and accepted.
I look over at him and smile. "Let's go, Dad."
"Wait," he replies with wide eyes as I slip my arm through his. "Ya ain't gonna start callin' me that are ya? 'Cause I don't think that's gonna work, Clarabelle. Jen might ask some questions."
"Dirk." I shake my head and pull him toward the door, wondering if I will even survive this short walk. "Let's do this shit."
"I'm nervous."
I turn my head toward him and give him a questioning look when I notice sweat forming across his brow. His complexion looks kind of pasty, maybe even a little green.
"Are you okay?"
"I just…" Dirk’s voice is choppy, and he squeezes my forearm in the crease of his elbow as his breathing starts to pick up. "I just never been around so many people before and they're all starin' at me, Clarabelle. Do I have a booger or somthin'? Jesus, I probably have a big ole' snot rocket hangin' from my face."
I momentarily close my eyes in hopes of pulling my shit together long enough to calm the man down.
"Listen to me, Dirk." I gently pull him to the side and try to be as clear as possible. "All of these people are not staring at you. Trust me. But they kinda need to watch the whole wedding play out. It's just this thing that happens at weddings. Okay?"
A puzzled expression crosses Dirk’s face followed by a look of horror before he lets go of me and throws his arms out. "Well, why the hell ain't they starin' at me, Clarabelle? Huh? I look good! Do you know how much this thing was so I could look good for your shindig? I look good, Clarabelle. Real good."
I crane my head back when I hear rustling from the area where the guests are sitting. I pull myself together and look at my idiot escort.
"Now you listen to me. I'm going to walk down that damn aisle with or without you, Dirk," I tell him with a cocked brow. "Now if you want to stand here like a mini diva and pitch a damn fit over nothing, then you go ahead. But as for me," I say, pointing to the altar. "Well, I'm gonna go marry that amazing man down there and become his fucking wife. So either pull your shit together or stay here. Your choice."
Dirk smoothes down the front of his kilt and lifts his brows, looking slightly miffed at my mini tirade. "Welp," he replies. "If that's the way you want it, Clarabelle, then I guess we should get goin'."
I pull my brows together unable to decipher the reason why he gave up the argument so quick but decide to shrug it off.
"Okay. Then let's go."
I resume my previous position next to Dirk and hook my arm through his, giving him a once over. Nothing. His expression is neutral. I give the situation a little nod and ready myself for a second attempt down the aisle. But as soon as I put one foot in front of the other, Dirk stops me and leans in close to my ear.
"I look damn good, Clarabelle. Damn good."
"For the love of God, Dirk! Yes. Yes, you look good. Happy now? Can we go? I wanna go. Let's go, okay? Now. Go."
"Dirk! If you don't get your miserable ass down this aisle with that bride I'm comin’ back there to kick your ass!"
As soon as Jen’s voice booms from the altar, Dirk starts to double time it down the aisle without me.
"C'mon, Clarabelle! Whatcha waitin' for, girl?"
Fuck. My. Life.
Reaching down, trying not to panic, I grip my wedding dress and follow behind him. I smile and silently apologize to our guests as I pass by them.
"Dirk!" I whisper-yell, sounding like a complete fool. "Dirk, you dork, wait!"
There's no response as he continues without me and curtsies to each row of guests as he goes.
"I'm gonna punch you in your sack!" I whisper-yell again.
Once we make our way to the altar, all other thoughts are tossed out the window when I catch a glimpse of the two most important people in my life. I cannot begin to tell you how absolutely beautiful it is to see the father of my son, the man I've fallen in love with, holding our newborn child close to his heart as they both wait for me to complete our little family.
"You're stunning." I look up at Roman as I take my place beside him, turning so that we face each other. "I love you."
"I love you too," I reply, reaching up to cup Roman’s cheek. When I move my gaze to look at our precious, sleeping newborn my heart swells with an extreme amount of adoration. As I lean down to give my son a gentle kiss on his forehead, I can't help the multitude of emotions coursing through my veins. "And mommy loves you too, sweetheart. So, so much."
I look up at Roman and take a deep breath.
"You ready, Miss Avery?" he asks with a playful glint in his eye.
"Yes I am, Mr. Blake."
"Well, good. How's about you and me finally get hitched?" he asks with a wink.
"Sounds good to me."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sounds good to all of us, too. Now say those I Do's cause I gotta turtle head on deck waitin' for me to release the crappin', and this monkey suit is makin' me itch."
And this, folks, is how my happily ever after as Mrs. Roman Blake is about to begin.
Or, that was until…
"Psst! Psst!" Dirk leans in and tries to get our attention. "By the way, me and Jen’s havin' a baby."
The End … maybe.
Acknowledgments
Annelise, Vanessa, DiAnne, and Tracie-
Thanks for everything. You guys truly are what it means to have true friends. You all put up with me through writing this book that I’m truly shocked that not one of you hung up on me a time or two. Thank you for being a part of this wild shit-parade, and thank you for all of your help.
You four are fucking amazing ladies and I love you all!
Author Bio
S.L. Romines lives in a small town in Central California, and if you blink you just might miss it. She resides on a ranch with her family which she lovingly refers to as the funny farm. Between getting dish pan hands, listening to three bickering teenagers, pretending that she’s a gourmet chef (her family would like to disagree), and trying to tune out the sound of twenty-seven deranged Guinea fowl, somehow, she finds the time to write about crazy characters that even make her laugh till she cries.
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Check out these wonderful books by some amazing authors.
Ridin’ Nerdy
By Annelise Reynolds
Synopsis:
As the daughter of a MC President, Leah "Pebbles" Slate, has seen the less glamorous side of life in the club. After being hurt, she's not looking for love on the inside; but she's not expecting to find it with the nerd at her father's gym either. He's everything she never knew she wanted and nothing like what she expected.
Will Carver isn't just another nerdy lawyer and comic book collector. The glasses and the suits hide the man underneath - the man that's on a mission to hurt the one who hurt his family. What he wasn't expecting was Leah. She's everything he wants but shouldn't have. He knows there's no future for them, but the temptation is too strong and there's only so much a man can take.
Lies will be revealed and the truth will set him free, but will it be too late? Will Leah forgive him and take a long ride on the nerdy side?
Chapter One
Leah
The classic Mustang parked next to all the Harleys as I rode into the parking lot stood out like a sore thumb. Meatheads was not a place where the upp
er crust of the city came to work out – this was the place where you came when you wanted to get the shit beat out of you, or beat the shit out of someone else. I should know. Meatheads has been in my family and part of the club since my granddad ran it. My dad took it over from him and – one day – I’ll take it over from my dad. But, for now, I just run the books and work the counter.
“Hey, Papa,” I said, walking into the gym and seeing my granddad behind the desk. “Someone get lost or something?”
“Or something,” he notched his chin to the gym floor.
I turned to see who he was looking at. It wasn’t hard to pick the Mustang’s owner out from the crowd. Where the rest of the guys were covered in tattoos, he had none that were visible. His skin was untouched by an ink gun and he wasn’t walking around shirtless, or in a wife beater, like every other man in the room. His arms were strong and toned, but not overly bulky with muscle. Much like his car didn’t fit in the parking lot, this guy didn’t fit in here.
“Why?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice. He looked way too put together, and god knows his car was worth way too much for him to be just an average Joe blow. This guy was wealthy and not at all our normal clientele.
“No idea, Baby Girl. He just came in wanting a membership. Paid the year up front.” Papa was still in great shape, though he didn’t use the gym anymore like he used to.
“He won’t last a month,” I scoffed.
Papa laughed. “We’ve got a wager going, you wanna get in on it?”
“What’s the longest someone has him in for?”
“Three weeks,” he said, laughing.
“And the shortest?”
“Three hours.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Some of the guys weren’t the brightest; I could guess who made that bet. It was the same guy that was taunting our newest member.
“Ox is trying to get him out of here early. Does he not realize the guy is probably not going to work out for three hours straight, so he’s already lost the bet?”
My granddad laughed. “We tried to talk him out of that bet, but he was adamant.” He shrugged, it was easy money into the pot. “I guess, technically, he could still win if the guy doesn’t show up again, but he did pay the year up front. Chances are, he’ll be back at least one more time.”
I shook my head. “Where’s Dad? I didn’t see his bike outside.”
“Needle was giving him another tattoo this morning when he opened his shop – a gift for your mother, I think.”
“Ah. She must have finally talked him into getting her name put on him. So, he roped you into taking his morning shift?” I shook my head. Dad was great for business because the man knew how to fight, but he hated the business side of the business. Running this place was not his favorite thing to do, unless he was in the ring fighting or teaching someone how to box.
“Maybe. I left the new guy’s paperwork on your desk.” Papa didn’t mind picking up shifts at the gym, he was still around here more than he was home, but I figured that had more to do with him being lonely than anything else, though I doubted he would ever admit that.
“Alright, that’s my not so subtle hint to get to work.” I laughed and kissed him on the cheek before heading to my desk. I saw the contract on my desk, but I ignored it for the time being. I had a few things to get done before I input him into the system.
For some reason, my eyes kept drifting back to the new guy. His dark hair was sticking up in different directions as if he ran his fingers through it a million times; he had glasses on – the black frames just adding to his nerdy appearance; he had a firm jaw and full lips. I didn’t realize I was staring at him, until his eyes met mine from across the room.
I watched as he took off his glasses and wiped his face with a towel. He still looked in my direction, but I doubted he could see me anymore without his glasses on, so I turned away and got started on my paperwork.
“William Atwood Carver III, holy crap dude. What the hell are you doing at Meatheads?” A name like that is going to get the shit beat out of him if it gets out.
“Talking to yourself again, Pebbles?”
“I told you not to call me that, Bull,” I said, purposely getting Ox’s name wrong. I didn’t mind getting called Pebbles by people I like and care for, but for some reason it sounded condescending when Ox said it. Maybe it was just because I couldn’t stand him, I don’t know, but whatever the reason, I hated when he called me by my nickname.
“You are a stubborn woman, Leah. When are you finally going to go for a ride with me?” Ox was built like an ox. He was solid muscle, to the point where it looked enhanced. I love muscle as much as the next girl, but there is such a thing as overkill, and Ox hit that about two years ago.
“That would be never, Ox. I don’t date anyone from the club. You know that.” We’d been over this before. I have rules, and I don’t break them. Rule number one – no club members. This rule also makes it hard to date since I don’t really meet anyone outside the club, but oh well. It is what it is, and I’m not changing it for anyone.
“That’s a stupid rule when you’re part of a club, Pebbles.”
“Well, it’s a stupid rule I live by, so you can get the fuck over it and go find a Sweetbutt to entertain you.” I shifted paperwork around on my desk, hoping he would get the hint that I was busy – he didn’t. Ox was as dumb as a box of rocks. The best theory we can come up with is his momma took one too many hits when she was pregnant. It was either that or he was dropped on his head.
“One day, Pebbles, you and me are gonna go for a ride.”
“One day, Bull, you are going to realize that is just not going to happen.”
He went out to the gym floor again leaving me in peace. I filed all of Will’s paperwork, burying his name as far as I could, so the guys didn’t stumble across it. I logged him into the system as Will Carver. It still sounded like a preppy name, but it was better than his full name and the numerals.
I looked back over at him again, and saw him lifting an impressive amount of weight. He didn’t look that big, so he was either bigger than he appeared from across the gym, or he was stronger than he looked. It wasn’t necessarily the same thing.
“Pebbles!” my dad called out from the ring. I hadn’t seen him come in, but it looked like he was about to do a bit of sparring with Tuck.
“Hey, Daddy.” I went to the ring and pulled myself up on the side with ease. I’d done it a million times, so it was nothing to just hop up without using the steps. “You got new ink, I hear.”
“Yeah.” He uncovered the new ink on his arm, revealing a few swirls and stars surrounding a date. “Ox told me you two are going for a ride,” Dad changed the subject from his tattoo after showing me.
I groaned. “Ox is out of his mind. I told him no, again, and that is not what Mama wanted,” I said, nodding to the tattoo. Sure, her road name was Star, but I don’t imagine that a few stars were going to cut it.
“She’ll love it,” he said. “He’s not that bad, Pebbles. When’s the last time you went on a date?”
Fuck. I looked over to see Will looking on, his eyes interested and a small smirk on his face. So, embarrassing, my dad is trying to hook me up with one of his guys. “It’s been a while, Daddy. If you would stop scaring off every guy I date, that would be helpful.”
“Why won’t you date someone from the club? They don’t scare so easy.” His grin showed he didn’t mind that he’d scared the last few guys I dated away.
“I have my reasons. Now is there a reason you called me over here, or is my love life the most interesting thing you have going on?”
“Damn smart mouth.” He shook his head. “I was going to tell you to make sure there are towels in the locker room, and for your smartass remark you get to open in the morning.”
“Very funny, I’m already on the schedule to open tomorrow.” I rolled my eyes, then hopped down from the ring.
“Hey, Leah,” Tuck said as I walked by.
“Hey, Tuck.”
He was hot; the only problem was he knew it. He was aware of his sexual appeal; each and every one of the Sweetbutts, as well as some of the old ladies, were given a taste of what he had to offer. He’d made moves on me a few times, but he seemingly let it go when he realized that I’m not going to break my no dating the club rules for him.
I went into the laundry and found a heap of towels yet to be washed. “What the hell?” Dammit, Dad. He closed last night, and didn’t do the laundry. I love my dad, but he can be such a caveman sometimes. Laundry is women’s work, so he doesn’t do it and leaves it for me. This is really a perfect example of if it’s not boxing or working with a fighter, then he just doesn’t want to do it.
I grabbed a pair of gloves and started the wash; high heat and lots of soap and bleach. There were still towels in the dryer. I clenched my teeth in annoyance. If I’ve got to do this shit regardless if I open or close, then I would just rather close and sleep later in the mornings, because four am fucking sucks.
“Daddy!” I called out after folding all the damn towels. He was still sparring with Tuck and, despite the age difference, Daddy was holding his own.
They stopped when I approached, my hands full of the folded towels. “What’s up, Pebbles?”
“I want to change the schedule. If I do all the laundry anyway, I’d rather just always close rather than my schedule being all over the place. Because when you close, laundry never gets done.”
“Come on, Pebbles. We were in the middle of something, this couldn’t wait?”
“No. It’s your gym, you can either put me on closing all the time, or chip in when it comes to towels. If none of those options works, I can always find another job elsewhere.”
If anybody else talked to Rock like this, they would be talking through a straw. I guess it’s one of the many perks of being the President’s daughter. Andrew ‘Rock’ Slate was a force to be reckoned with, and nobody talks back to him, except for his baby girl.
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