by Ava Walsh
***
Matt was doing his best to concentrate on the documents in front of him when a call from his father was put through. “Yes?” Matt answered.
“Your wife just left my office. She resigned her position and she says you didn’t know she was planning to do it.”
“She did what?” Matt nearly shouted into the phone. Brooke couldn’t quit. She needed her job, needed the income. He didn’t inhabit that world, of living payday to payday, but she’d told him enough of the struggle she and her father had faced.
“I think you ought to get up here and tell me what’s going on.”
Brooke hadn’t told his father about their “fake” marriage, which was perfectly legal in every sense of the word. Legal, but troubled, all the same.
“I’ll be right up.”
Upstairs, he stormed into his father’s office and held out his hand. “Let me see the letter.”
Richard handed it across the desk then sat back and crossed his arms. “I think you owe me an explanation, son.”
Matt read through the letter. Brooke had cited “personal reasons” for leaving. She spoke of her father’s illness, but Matt knew the truth—she’d left because of him. Matt plopped down in the seat across from his father’s desk, at a loss as to how to fix the mess he’d made.
Brooke was doing everything she could to eradicate herself from his life, scrub it clean as if their marriage had never existed. As if she had never existed.
And Matt didn’t want to live in that world. He wanted to come home to her open arms and smiling face. He needed to spend his nights with her, he needed her by his side as he took this company into the future. He needed her, damn it.
He’d fallen in love with her. It had been obvious for weeks, but he’d tried to pretend otherwise. He spent every waking moment with her and he never got tired of her kind words or sweet caresses. And he’d never grown weary of the hot nights, making love to her over and over. She said he’d driven the relationship, but she was the one in control now. He had to find a way to win her back.
“My marriage was an accident.” He looked up at his dad, clutching Brooke’s letter in his hand.
“Fender-benders are accidents. How do you accidentally get married?”
“We got drunk. We were both tired, worn down, stressed to the max. We had too many drinks. We kissed and… Brooke was waiting for marriage so—”
“Waiting, as in waiting? She’d never…”
“Right. And, somehow, in an alcohol-induced loss of reason, we thought it would be a good idea to marry. None of that matters now. What matters is I love her and she’s leaving me.” He waved the letter in his father’s direction. “Those are her ‘personal reasons.’”
“Why is she leaving?” His father’s brow was furrowed in confusion.
“We had a pregnancy scare. I blamed her, lost my temper. I was an ass.”
“Did you tell her all of this?”
Matt sighed, regret coursing through his veins. “No. I told her she was overreacting.”
“You never do that. Women hate that.” Suddenly, he was a kid and his dad was giving him advice on women again. And despite all the women Matt had known, had been with, he needed the help. He’d loved his first wife, but she hadn’t loved him. But Brooke?
Brooke was different. For one thing, he loved her far more than he’d ever loved his first wife. And another thing was in her anger, she’d admitted to being in love with him.
Now, he just had to figure out the one thing he could do for her, could give her, that no one else could. The one thing that would prove, once and for all, that he loved her.
“This never happened.” He ripped up the letter and stood. “I know what to do. I’m going to need some help.”
“Does she make you happy?” His father steepled his fingers on the desk and offered Matt a stern expression.
“Very much.”
“Then everyone in this company will be at your disposal. Get your wife back.”
***
Two days after turning in her resignation, Brooke woke up because her phone wouldn’t stop ringing. She’d gone to see her father day before yesterday. Then she’d come home, put on her pajamas, and spent the last forty-eight or so hours crying.
She was finally getting some sleep, and someone was calling her at… what time was it?
“Eight-thirty on a Saturday? Ugh, why?” She picked it up to see a number she didn’t recognize. She did, however, know the caller ID. Cross Hospitality Industries.
She sat up in bed and tucked the covers tighter around her. She was not answering that call. Except, she kind of had to. What if it were something only she could handle? She’d given her notice but promised on her resignation to be available for the next month to answer any questions.
“Oh, hell.” She slid her finger over the answer bar. “Yes?”
“Brooke, don’t hang up.” It was Matt, talking fast.
“I’m hanging up. I promised to be available to the company, not to you.” She tried to tell herself to hit the end button, but she waited a moment longer.
“Are you still here?” Matt asked.
She sighed. “Yes. What do you want?”
“I need to show you something. There’s a car outside your apartment. I want you to go get in the car, gorgeous.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not sleeping with you for twelve more days only to go through this heartbreak again.”
“I promise you, I will not ask you for twelve days.”
Brooke climbed out of bed and went to her window. His normal car wasn’t outside—there was a full stretch limousine. “Why the fancy car? Fancier car,” she corrected. His regular customized Mercedes was hardly drab.
“The sooner you get in the car, the sooner everything will make sense. Please, I know I haven’t earned it, but if you could just give me a little trust today, you won’t be sorry.”
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
“I’m not in the car.”
Brooke glanced at the phone as if it could explain away her confusion. Slowly, she put it back up to her ear. “Then why am I getting in the car?”
“Because it’s customary for the groom to not see the bride on their wedding day.” There was a slight chuckle in his voice. He knew how crazy this all sounded. Knew her curiosity would get the better of her because he also knew her.
“We’re not getting married. We’re supposed to be getting divorced. Please tell me this isn’t some freedom party or something.” She walked over to her closet and started rummaging. She wasn’t getting dressed up. She didn’t care how Matt saw her, not anymore.
“No, but it is a celebration. Just throw on some clothes, get in the car, and do exactly as my father says.”
“Excuse me?” She’d been in the process of pulling a pair of jeans out of the closet, but she froze.
“My dad is going to take you to a church. There’s a team there waiting for you, to do whatever you’d like. If you want to wear one of the white dresses I bought you, that’s fine. If you want to come in cutoffs and a t-shirt, that’s fine, too. What matters is I need to ask you something, in front of God and everyone we know. Will you come to the church?”
For the first moment since she and Matt had agreed to stay married, Brooke had no clue what was happening. Even when they’d split up, she’d known it was only a matter of time. It was expected. This was not. “Yes.”
She had to know what he wanted to ask her. She was sure of one thing—he wouldn’t gather everyone just to ask her for a divorce.
***
Matt stood at the front of the church in his tuxedo. He’d been waiting a half-hour longer than the longest he’d anticipated. What if Brooke had changed her mind about showing up?
He didn’t care if she didn’t want to wear the dress—would understand it, even. More importantly, he didn’t care what she wore or how she looked. He just wanted her to show up.
He hadn’t heard a peep from either her or his father. The pl
an had been clear. Bring her to the church, hand her over to the makeup artist, stylists, and seamstress, and then his father would take his place in the church.
Over the last two days, Matt had enlisted the help of nearly everyone he knew to make sure this went off perfectly. All their friends and coworkers had helped plan this and he was so proud they’d be here to help them usher in the best part of their lives.
Matt had brought Brooke’s father here, and he waited by the door to escort her down the aisle. If she said yes, he intended to make sure she got the wedding she’d always dreamed about.
Just when Matt was deciding that maybe he should go check in, see what had gone wrong, the doors opened. Brooke stood in the doorway, the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. She was even more breathtaking than usual, dressed all in white. He’d had several dresses and veils brought for her to choose from and left his mother’s diamond earrings for her to wear.
She’d chosen perfectly. A gown fitted down to below her hips flared out and a veil fell in cascades down her back. She gave him a nervous look then saw her father and smiled at him.
Matt’s father hurried to his seat on the front row. He gave a sheepish shrug when Matt arched an eyebrow at him. His father and Brooke had scared him out of his wits. He’d been a wreck, but she was here now.
The music swelled and her father slowly walked her down the aisle, bringing her closer. Matt tried to remember all the things he wanted to say, wondering if he’d be speechless when the time came.
She stopped and the pastor said, “Who gives this woman away?”
Mr. Monroe said, “I do,” in a querulous voice. When Matt had called and told him what he wanted to do, her father had been thrilled.
Brooke joined him up on the stage. Matt held out his hands and she took them both in hers.
“Why are you doing this, Matt?” She murmured to him so that the room full of guests couldn’t hear her words.
“Because I’m crazy about you. I’ve fallen so in love with you over the last few months.” “Maybe it’d be better if we talked in private.” She gave a pointed look at his father.
He clutched her hands tighter. “He knows everything. I’m not ashamed of how we came together. I’m so grateful for that night, the night I really saw you.”
“Is this for real? It’s not some game to grab power in the company or to keep me in your bed a little longer?” Tears rimmed her eyes.
“It’s completely real, wife. The company will always be there, but I nearly lost you. I couldn’t let that happen. We’re a perfect team and we’ll be one for the rest of our lives if you say yes.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. She didn’t look convinced. “Will you please marry me again?”
“Does that mean a family, too? Because I want kids.” Her voice shook.
“A boat load, if that’s what you’d like. Just please, marry me—again. Forever this time.”
“Yes.” She placed her lips on his and the room erupted in applause at the kiss.
The pastor went on to perform the wedding ceremony. They both spoke their parts without too much fumbling. He couldn’t stop beaming at his wife.
Matt would forever remember both their wedding days—the day fate had brought them together and the day they had finally found their way to each other, in love, and started their future.
*****
THE END
Daddy's Bad Friend
Description
Someone needs to keep an eye on daddy’s business partner.
He screws around and parties like a pro.
If he ruins his reputation, the company will go down the drain.
So daddy sent me to watch over him.
He’s the last thing I need.
But he’s the only thing I want.
What am I to him? A delicious treat? An innocent virgin?
He’s twenty years older than me. He’s absolutely infuriating. But he’s hot. And commanding. And bossy.
Especially in bed. And I want more.
As if things can’t get any worse, my period is late. Like, really late.
I’m playing with fire.
What will daddy say?
Chapter One
Kellie Love sat in the emergency room lobby and tried to slow down her breathing. She’d be no good to her mom, who sat beside her, or her dad if she had a panic attack or something. Her father, David, had been rushed to the emergency room when he began having chest pains while eating his breakfast. Normally, he’d have been at work, but it was Saturday.
Today, he’d been home with her mom, who was a nurse. She’d called 9-1-1 and given him an aspirin. She’d called Kellie as they loaded her father into the ambulance. Kellie met her mom, Diane, at the hospital and here they had sat for the last hour. They knew nothing. And it was awful. She wanted to cry, to scream at someone that she wasn’t ready to lose her father, but what good would that do? None of it would make a difference to what was going on behind those closed doors.
She stared at the doors hard, wishing they’d open, until her eyes watered. She blinked and looked away, at the others sitting in the lobby with her. One little girl, her face flushed, leaned against her mom and whined. Another man held his arm close to his body. It looked twisted up, and Kellie looked away quickly. That was definitely a break.
Finally, the emergency bay doors opened and a man in a white coat stalked out. Please let him come to us. If she didn’t get out of here soon and see her dad, she might go crazy. He stopped in front of Kellie’s mom. “Mrs. Love?”
“Is he all right?” Diane asked at once.
“He’s alive. He’s had a heart attack. He’ll have to cut down on stress, change his diet, and no work for at least six to eight weeks.”
“Oh, thank God.” Diane dropped her face into her hands and began to sob.
“Mr. Love is asking to see his daughter.”
Kellie’s eyes widened. It was odd, him asking to see her instead of her mother. Her parents shared a deep and abiding love after David had swept Diane off her feet in college. Kellie stood. “O-okay. Can you take me to him?”
“The nurse at the desk will. I’ll let him know.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Kellie went up to the nurse. “Can you take me back to see my father?” She felt like a child, out of place and confused as to what to do next.
“Right this way.” He opened the emergency bay doors with a swipe of his card and led Kellie down a long hallway, with little curtains closed every few feet. Behind some of them, people moaned in pain.
Finally, he stopped and slid the curtain open. There lay her father, pale and hooked up to monitors which buzzed and beeped intermittently. He held a hand out to her, but then it fell, limp and useless at his side. “Kellie,” he croaked.
“Oh, Daddy.” Tears sprang to Kellie’s eyes and she wanted to run to him, to let him hold her and tell her he’d be fine. But she couldn’t do that. He needed her to be the strong one now. She stepped closer until she reached the foot of the bed. “Don’t worry about anything.”
“That’s what they told me. No worrying.” His voice… she’d never heard him sound so weak and tired. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Daddy. You know that.”
“I need you to go to work for me.”
Kellie frowned at that. Her father and his business partner, Alex, had a company simply named Leblanc & Love. They didn’t advertise; their business came from word of mouth only. They repaired public reputation. She supposed they were like a public relations clinic.
Last month, she’d graduated with honors with her Bachelor of Science in psychology. She’d always planned to work with her father, to let him mentor her, so she could take his place someday. She’d never expected him to need her to do so much, so soon. “Work will be fine without you for a couple of months. I’m sure Alex can handle things.”
“Alex can handle the work. He can’t handle himself.”
“What do you mean?” She crept c
loser to perch on the side of the bed. “What’s he doing?”
“Partying with clients, sleeping around. If someone doesn’t keep an eye on him, his reputation will be the one that needs to be rehabbed, and our company will be ruined.”
“I had no idea it was so bad.” Kellie sighed. Alex was almost twenty years older than her; forty-one to her twenty-two. Could she reign him in?
“It’s pretty bad, but I’ve managed to smooth things over for the most part. He can’t be left to his own devices, not until he calms down.”
“But what happened? He wasn’t always like this, was he?”
Her father let his head rest against the pillow. She was tiring him out. It didn’t matter why—all that mattered was that Kellie does what her father had asked her to do. Resolved, she stood to go. “I’ll send Mom in.”
***
Alex disposed of the condom, pulled his boxers back on, then his pants, and buttoned and zipped himself up. “That was great, doll.”
The beautiful, mocha-skinned makeup artist smiled from her position, naked and leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath. “You’re amazing.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t need accolades. He’d needed two things from her. One of them he’d just gotten. The other… “So, when do you think you can introduce me to Chase Valentine?”
Valentine was an out-of-control pop singer. He’d recently been arrested for firing a gun in a nightclub. His manager had told Alex “thanks, but no thanks” when he’d offered his services. Landing a client as big as Valentine would be huge for their company. If Alex had to have sex with a beautiful woman to get some face time with Valentine, then a man had to do what he had to do.
The makeup artist, with a name as beautiful as she was—Adanna, began picking through her clothes. He’d get what he wanted, a meeting with Valentine, because though she may be younger than him, she’d wanted this as much as he had.