RULES OF LOVE (A Navy SEALs Romance)

by Bella Grant

  “How did you afford this?” Jackie finally said, still eyeing the brochure and plane tickets.

  “Let’s just say it’s your grand reward for working your asses off for so long. Admiral says to have a good time, and he better get a postcard since he’s paying for half of it,” Beau said.

  Jackie squeezed Eddie tightly. The present was two plane tickets to Hawaii, followed by a ten-day cruise, and two more plane tickets to New Zealand and another cruise around the Great Barrier Reef, something Jackie had wanted to do since she was out of high school.

  “What am I going to do with you two?” Jackie said, wiping a tear from her eye as she gave Beau a hug and Eddie gave Gareth one.

  “You could always tell Admiral we want to retire,” Beau said, making all of them laugh.

  “How about you just bring me back something really nice and we’ll call it even?” Eddie told Jackie, who agreed.

  “Speaking of nice things,” Gareth said, then coughed while elbowing Beau in the side. Beau glared back at him, shaking his head while Gareth continued coughing and elbowing him.

  “What is with you two tonight?” Eddie asked. Beau shrugged until Jackie smacked him upside the head.

  “Oh, just do it already!”

  “What’s going on?”

  Beau gave her a smoldering look that caused Eddie’s heart to beat as her hands shook with a sudden urge to pull him to her. She watched as he pulled a small box from his pants’ pocket, and to Eddie’s amazement, got down on one knee. The crowd around them quietened, much to Beau’s obvious annoyance. Everyone watched as he opened his mouth to speak, and Eddie’s eyes teared up.

  “I was going to wait until we got home, but it looks like I don’t have a choice now. Eddie,” he said, taking her left hand in his and holding out the white-gold ring with a small, delicate diamond in it. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the craziest woman I’d ever met.” Eddie laughed with everyone else. “I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to put up with you, but for some strange reason, I arrived at a point where I didn’t want to be without you. You make my day when I get to see you smile or get angry and throw a fit over something. And now that I’ve had you these six months, I want to be certain I never lose you. What do you say?”

  He held the ring by her left ring finger, waiting anxiously for her answer. She chewed her bottom lip and nodded fiercely. Beau slipped the ring onto her finger—a perfect fit—then picked her up, kissing her over and over again to the applauding and cheers of the crowd.

  Jackie ran to the main table, picked up her own bouquet, and handed it to Eddie while Gareth took the flower from his jacket and put it on Beau’s.

  “Wait, what’s happening here?” Eddie asked as Jackie and Gareth dragged them to the gazebo, everyone following.

  “I want to make sure you don’t have a chance to pull one of your famous disappearing acts, that’s what. Gareth, go find the priest will you?” Gareth ran through the crowd as Beau stood where Gareth had only an hour before. Jackie pulled Eddie to the other side of the gazebo. “And just to let you know, you two are coming with us.” Before Eddie could even ask how or why, she was pushed over to Beau, and the priest walked up with Gareth.

  “Well, it’s not every day I get to conduct two weddings in one,” the priest teased as he started the shortest version of a wedding Eddie ever heard. “Do you, Eddie, take Beau for your husband—whom I’m sure you’ll wind up torturing with your—what did he call it?—craziness at some point or another?”

  Through her laughter, Eddie was able to say, “I do.”

  “And do you, Beau, take Eddie to be your wife, whom you will worry and fret over every minute of the day she’s off killing who knows who?”

  Beau couldn’t smile any bigger. “I do.”

  “Well then, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may go about being madly in love for the rest of your lives,” the priest concluded, barely able to get the last word out before Beau wrapped his arm around Eddie’s waist and pulled her to him so hard, the breath went out of her. The kiss carried on and on as cheers erupted around them. Eddie would’ve given anything to be alone so she could have her way with her husband.

  Beau pulled back and whispered in her ear, “There’s more.”

  Eddie couldn’t believe what else could be better than this, but he led her down the aisle.

  Jackie and Gareth met them at the end of it as the party continued with more toasts to the second newlyweds of the evening.

  “So, ladies, are you ready for your honeymoons?” Gareth asked, producing another envelope containing the same plane tickets and brochures as Beau gave to him earlier.

  “You planned this all, didn’t you?” Eddie accused Beau and Gareth, who nodded, looking smug. “I don’t believe it. When did you get involved?” she asked Jackie.

  “Yesterday,” she replied, laughing at the look on Eddie’s face.

  “And you never noticed a thing. I think you’re starting to fall down on the job, Mrs. Savage,” Beau said with a wink, hugging his new wife close to him. “By the way, the plane leaves tomorrow at noon, so…”

  “We’ll be ready, don’t you worry. Right now, I just want to party,” Jackie said and pulled Eddie into the middle of the dancers as the music got louder.

  Gareth put an arm around Beau’s shoulder as the two watched the loves of their lives dancing.

  “You ready for married life, Savage?”

  “Why do you think they made boot camp so damn hard?” Beau said as he and Gareth joined their wives and, at least for a month, live happily ever after.

  BAD BOY

  MONEY

  (A Billionaire BAD BOY Romance)

  By

  Bella Grant

  Copyright (c) 2016. All Rights Reserved

  SARA

  The day I received the invitation to the Saunders Empire private ball started off as an ordinary day. I woke up as usual at six in the morning, made it to my job as a barista in a local coffee shop, ate my brown-bag lunch, made small talk with customers I couldn't really stand, returned to my tiny apartment to a sink filled with dirty plates, ordered my usual Chinese combination fried rice, and went through my mail.

  As I sat eating my greasy dinner, I lazily glanced through the mail. Bills - people I owe and people who expect money from me, a couple of spam mails, and my Fashionette magazine, which came with a big pink sticker reminding me for the hundredth time that my subscription was ending and I could renew for a big discount. I tossed the magazine on a pile of magazines, and as I did, a golden envelope fell out from between the pages.

  I cast a lazy glance at the envelope, trying to decide if I should get up from my cozy seat to pick it up or if I could do that the next day. Laziness got the better of me; if it was a bill, I couldn’t afford to pay it until I got my next pay check in two weeks, so what was the point of opening it?

  I grabbed the remote control and flipped through several channels until I found some dumb horror movie - the one where a group of teenagers explore a haunted house and someone takes off to find out where a strange noise is coming from and inevitably gets killed. And of course, another teen followed to see if he's okay, and while the rest of them clamor together in one room, that teen is predictably killed. Slowly, they all disappeared until only one person escaped the house.

  Around nine, I'd had enough of the crappy movie, so I decided to turn in for the night. I stepped over that golden envelope lying on the floor; my eyes darted to the return address. Saunders Empire. I picked up the envelope and opened it as I walked to my bedroom. The envelope and the paper it contained were certainly worth more than a day’s salary. It was rich and soft, and on the top was the monogram Saunders Empire. On the front was my name and address: Sara Nolles, 1245 North Main Street.

  Saunders Empire caused a loud bell to ring in my head. I had interned for one of the branches as an undergrad, but only briefly. I had applied for a job right after graduation, but they had kindly repl
ied, in an envelope not as fancy as this one, that I was underqualified for the positions available, and they would contact me when a position I was qualified for opened.

  I flipped the envelope over; it was sealed with a gold embossed wax in the shape of the Saunders Empires logo. Fancy, I smirked as I carefully broke the seal, my heart beating wildly. I hoped they had changed their minds and were offering me a job. I would certainly swallow my pride, dust off my bruised ego, and accept the job without question. I pulled a card out of the envelope.

  What caught my eyes first was the gold lettering and gold borders on the card. The gold was probably real gold. My eyes focused on the words on the card.

  Dear Ms. Sara Nolles,

  It is my pleasure to invite you to the Saunders Empire private annual ball. As you are aware, this is an event for the most elite men and women in our country.

  I enjoyed your company last time we met and hope you will join me again.

  Your invitation package will be delivered within the next twenty hours. We eagerly await your response.

  Sincerely,

  Nick Saunders

  I read the card over and over again, wondering what I was missing. Then I started picking apart the phrases. They must have made a mistake. For all the money and resources Saunders Empire had, they couldn't keep their guest list correct? Yeah, granted I had interned there, but how did I end up on their guest list? Did someone who knew me when I was there include me on the list?

  Me, a part of the elite group of men and women? Elite men and women! Is that a joke? I can't even get a job with an elite man or woman, whatever the heck elite meant. I imagined elite meant "rich and stuck up," men who listed "playboy" as a hobby and women who hired maids to brush their hair and apply their makeup. This had to be a case of mistaken identity. Perhaps there was a Sara Nolles somewhere on their guest list and our names and address had crossed.

  And what the heck did he mean by he had enjoyed my company? What exactly did the real Sara Nolles do for him? I only saw Nick Saunders once during my internship, and he had been presenting to a room full of his employees. He would never have noticed me tucked all the way in the back, and even if he had noticed me, I prided myself on not being the type of woman playboys like him dated – rich, skinny, obnoxious women. Nick’s reputation for having an insatiable appetite for women preceded him, and I did not want to be on his list.

  I read the card again as I walked to my bed. I would call the next day and inform the company of their error. I was not elite, and the card was certainly not for this Sara Nolles.

  NICK

  Nick stared at the picture of the woman who had remained in his mind since the day she had served him coffee at a downtown coffee shop. She had looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where they had met because he knew nothing would have stopped him from making a move on her whenever they met.

  She was one of those women he hated to admit were irresistible, the type he hated because they were too proud to admit their need of him and made the chase too hard. He had his private detective scoop her out once he’d left the coffee shop, and it hadn’t been hard to pin her down. Within hours, he knew everything he needed to know about her, including the fact that she had interned with him years ago. How had he missed her? So unlike him to let someone who looked like that get away without getting her into his infamous bed.

  He flipped the pages of her file, re-reading her life for the millionth time. She had just been dumped by her boyfriend of four years and lived downtown in a dingy apartment. He had to get to her. Initially, he had planned to approach her straight, but he knew a woman like that was not one to be approached without a plan. Then he thought about using her friend to get to her, but that was cliché. Who still talked to girls through their friends? That was so last century.

  He looked at her picture again, letting himself drown in her hazel eyes. Really pretty, definitely sexy face –a woman who stood out from all the girls he had dated– long, black, luscious curls that he wanted to get his hands into, lips so succulent he could only imagine kissing them until she moaned his name, and an attitude bigger than her delicate though curvy frame. She had to be his. No other way around it.

  When she had served him coffee without an ounce of recognition, he knew she was going to be hard to get.

  “Hello, welcome to Pixies,” she had said. “How may I help you?”

  “Coffee.”

  “What type of coffee, sir? We have several different varieties.” Her hazel eyes had stared into his, and in that moment, there had been an instant attraction. Her eyes never left his gaze, and he was not one to back down from a woman.

  “What would you recommend?” he asked, momentarily forgetting that he only drank dark espresso.

  “Well, how do you like your coffee? Sweet, strong, dark?” she asked, her gaze still on him.

  Sweet would be awesome, he thought. Sweet like her lips? His eyes had moved to her lips but found their way back to her eyes. She was certainly beautiful, and if he had to guess her age, maybe twenty-three? Twenty-five? Maybe she was too young for his thirty years of age. He should probably back down while he could.

  “I’ll take whatever you recommend,” he had told her and hoped he didn’t regret it. It was only coffee, after all. No harm could be done.

  “Sure. You look like someone who likes it dark and strong,” she said, a faint smile curving her lips.

  Nick looked at her, trying to determine if she was serious. From the glint in her eyes, he could tell she was teasing him. This would have been the perfect time to invite her to dinner or coffee or whatever, but he didn’t do it. She would turn him down. She looked like one of those women who liked the thrill of being chased but never really gave in to a man. He didn’t want to give her the upper hand, at least not yet.

  “Very perceptive,” he had replied, smiling at her.

  “No, just served enough coffee to know what my customers might like,” she said flatly.

  Sharp tongue, certainly; she had a smart mouth. “So how did you guess I like it dark and strong?” He could have turned on the charm and gotten her to his side, but she didn’t look at all interested in him.

  “Your watch. A man’s watch says a lot about him.”

  He looked at his Rolex. Damn. She was indeed cautious. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes. I can tell you like it dark and strong, because you’re sort of the bossy type.”

  “You’re right again,” he had told her but didn’t justify himself. Yes, he liked his coffee strong, and he could be quite bossy. Demanding was the word his closest staff used. Yes, he could be demanding and pushy, but that had shaped him into one of the most powerful and richest men in the country. He had no apologies for that. If anything, it was his privilege.

  When she returned with his coffee, she had asked with a faint smile on her face, “Is that all you’ll be wanting today, sir? May I get you a bagel, perhaps?”

  He had been taken aback by her calling him sir, but when he looked at her, she was still smiling, teasing. “Not today, thanks. But may I invite you to dinner?”

  She didn’t hesitate with her answer. “I don’t date customers.”

  “How about I don’t buy the coffee. Then I won’t be a customer,” Nick had joked, but the joke didn’t go down well.

  “No, sir. Not interested. Here’s your coffee.” She had almost pushed the coffee into his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a line behind you.”

  Nick didn’t look behind him. What did it matter? The world usually waited on him hand and foot, and the line behind him was no exception to the rule. He smiled at her again and handed her a twenty, but she rejected it.

  “It’s on the house. But please don’t ask me out again. The answer will always be no,” she had informed him before waving him off so she could help the next customer.

  Nick had gone to the side of the café to nurse his drink and his pride. How dare she dismiss him? Did she not have a clue who he was? In situations where
he felt slighted, he would have usually told off the girl and stormed out. Childish, yes, but being rich meant he could get away with some dumb shit sometimes. This time, though, he had wanted the girl and would swallow his pride to get her into his bed, even if only once.

  He had not felt the need to inform her who he was but had quietly sat in the corner of the café and watched her until it became rude. She never gave him a second glance, but within that short span of time as he observed her, he had learned so much about her, more than the private detective could ever tell him. He saw the way she brushed a loose stand of hair out of her face again and again. That alone told him she was a little messy and rather quick-witted; otherwise she would simply redo her ponytail.

  The way she smiled at her co-workers told him she had a good heart, but she didn’t look like someone who could be taken for granted. His observation told him she would be hard to get but worth the chase, and he was up to it. If she had smiled at him or encouraged him, he would have gone up to her and invited her to dinner again, or given her his card and told her to call him at her convenience. At such times, most girls would take a brief look at the card and recognition would hit them, and they would suddenly become putty in his hands. Not this one.

  He had hung around the café for a while, and as soon as he left, he had called his private investigator to get more information about her.