by Virna DePaul
Table of Contents
Book Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Description
More From Virna DePaul
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
BEDDING THE BABY DADDY Excerpt
Books by Virna
About The Author
Copyright
BEDDING THE BOSS
Bedding The Bachelors Book Eight
by
Virna DePaul
Book Description
After discovering his fiancée was in love with his best friend, wealthy Eric Davenport left Los Angeles to return to his small-town roots. A year later, he’s opening a ranch and love is the last thing on his mind.
Lexi Fischer’s a rodeo baby who fell in love with movies in the back of her father’s R.V. She’s driving across country, working odd jobs to make it to LA and fulfill her dream of becoming a screenwriter.
When Lexi meets Eric, he’s a confusing combination of earthy and sophisticated. They were only supposed to have one night, but then Eric makes Lexi an offer tough to refuse: work for him for the summer and he’ll make sure she gets to LA, promising he’ll keep his hands to himself.
Unable to resist, Lexi agrees. But as the summer progresses, feelings between Lexi and her boss spiral out of control. Can Eric survive loving another woman destined to leave him? And will Lexi realize that love won’t interfere with her dreams but rather make all her dreams come true?
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More From Virna DePaul
KISS TALENT AGENCY
HARD AS NAILS
GOING DEEP SERIES
BEDDING THE BACHELORS SERIES
HOME TO GREEN VALLEY SERIES
ROCK CANDY SERIES
SAY YOU LOVE ME SERIES
THE PARA-OPS PARANORMAL ROMANTIC SUSPENSE SERIES
Prologue
On the eve of his wedding to Brianne Whitcomb, Eric Davenport sat next to the bed where his fiancée lay, waiting for the sound that could mean the end of his life as he knew it, or at least, the end of his life with Brianne.
As vice-president of the company that had made his father a multi-millionaire before he was forty, Eric had been blessed with a privileged upbringing and the knowledge he’d always have a place in his father’s business. He’d known how lucky he was and enjoyed life to the fullest. But lately he’d been restless. Dissatisfied. And his general dissatisfaction had started to spill over into everything: work, home, even his relationship with Brianne. He’d sensed the same dissatisfaction in her, but chalked it up to stress, telling himself once the wedding was over, things would get back to normal.
Then a week ago, he’d discovered the truth.
God, Brianne, what a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, he thought.
Brianne was fast asleep, clearly exhausted from visiting with friends and family at the rehearsal dinner earlier that night, not to mention all the work that went into planning a high society wedding. Even if she hadn’t been an event planner, Brianne’s perfectionism and sense of aesthetic would have made planning the wedding a difficult task, but add in her chosen profession, and she’d been determined to throw an event people would talk about for years.
The funny thing was, despite her ties to high society, Brianne was one of the most down-to-earth, sweet, and kind women in the world, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous with a body made for sin. It was no wonder he’d jumped at the chance to date her when it presented itself, and what had followed had been six terrific years.
Only now he suspected they’d been fooling themselves. Now he wondered if the fact the whole world viewed them as the perfect couple—the man and woman who came from similar backgrounds, shared similar interests, and never fought—had somehow disguised the fact they were actually better suited as friends than lovers.
Now he was playing devil’s advocate, disregarding all the reasons that he and Brianne belonged together, and focusing on the reasons that indicated that might not be true.
One very big reason specifically.
He wished he didn’t have to. That he could dismiss his concerns as typical wedding jitters. He wished he could climb into bed with Brianne right now.
Take her in his arms.
Tell her how much he loved her.
Tell her how excited he was to be exchanging vows with her the next day in front of all their family and friends.
It was what he should be doing. How he should be feeling.
He’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But that was when he’d convinced himself she felt the same way.
Instead, Eric was probably going to have to do something that his family and friends weren’t going to understand, something that could in all likelihood make Brianne hate him—at least at first. Though to be fair, he told himself, if he called off the wedding it probably wouldn’t come as a complete surprise to Brianne. She’d sensed something was off between them as well. Earlier, she’d even questioned whether Eric was having second thoughts.
What she didn’t talk about was the reasons she might be having second thoughts.
In that moment, as if she could read his mind, Brianne stirred, stretching her arms and legs out, and smiling in a way he’d never actually seen before. Then she sighed. The sound was breathy and sexual. Her hand rose, cupping her breast, and she massaged the lush mound, giving away the intensity of her dream even before she moaned.
Eric closed his eyes and listened to the words that spilled from her lush lips.
She said she wanted him. She said she needed him.
Only the name she spoke wasn’t Eric’s.
It was Eric’s best friend’s name.
Gabe.
Chapter One
One year later
Buffalo Falls, Montana
Eric had sampled 60-year-old bourbons. French wines. Saki from a monastery in Japan. Twenty thousand dollar bottles of champagne. But as he watched the golden bubbles rise in his glass and took a hearty sip, he had to admit that Budweiser on tap was the drink of the gods. Tilting his baseball cap up off his forehead, he took another sip, letting the stress of the day roll off his back like water in a shower.
“Save some for the fishes, Eric,” Jacob said as he clapped Eric on the back and sat on the barstool next to him. Jacob Tedesco and his brother Dean had been Eric’s friends since they were in diapers. They’d spent almost every summer of their childhoods skipping rocks and talking about girls on the riverbanks a mile from the very bar they sat in. Although they’d kept in touch over the years, the friendship be
tween Eric and Jacob had grown even stronger since Eric had moved to Buffalo Falls last year, leaving behind his home in L.A., not to mention his family, his business, his fiancée, and his best friends, all in one fell swoop.
Talk about starting over from scratch.
“Fishes don’t drink beer, Jake,” Eric replied, even as he realized that thinking of his old life hadn’t filled him with the pain it once had.
And it hadn’t for quite a while now.
Thank God.
So yes, it turned out Brianne had loved Gabe even when she’d been with Eric—even when they’d been engaged. And yes, her refusal to admit her feelings for Gabe even to herself had compelled Eric to take serious action and leave behind his life in California. But in the end, the two people he’d loved most had finally made it where they belonged: each other’s arms. And now Eric was where he belonged. Montana had been his new beginning. It was now his future.
“Do all billionaires state the obvious like that?” his friend Dylan Quinn asked as he took the bar stool on the other side of Eric. He signaled the bartender for a beer. “In that case, sign me up. Doesn’t sound so hard.”
The bartender, Marina Howell—also someone Eric had known practically since infancy—quickly brought beers for Jacob and Dylan. She set them down carefully, like she was terrified of spilling even a drop. She had a big smile for Jacob and Eric, but dropped her eyes away from Dylan even as her cheeks heated to an alluring peach.
“You want another, Eric?”
“I’m doing fine for now, Marina,” he said, automatically using the quiet voice that most people used with her. There’d always been something delicate about her, something besides her lean frame, that gave the impression a strong wind could toss her right over. And that was even before what had happened to her five years ago.
Once again, Eric told himself how truly lucky he was in spite of the events of last year. Marina had had to deal with so much more. So had Dean, Jacob’s brother, for that matter. The sole survivor in a horrific plane crash, Dean had dealt with the tragedy by leaving everything behind to drive trucks in the Alaskan wilderness. Jacob said he was doing fine, but Eric knew Dean’s family worried about him. Even Jacob and Dylan had their shit to deal with. They all did. Eric was just lucky that, with his money, he could move on from his troubles easier than most. He certainly wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon. No more wasting time. He had a dream to fulfill and he was finally doing it.
The second Marina was out of earshot, both Jacob and Eric turned to stare at Dylan.
“Now what, pray-tell, was that all about?” Jacob asked Dylan, fluttering his eyelashes like a southern debutante.
“What?” Dylan asked, frowning into his beer. But his eyes flicked over to Marina for just a split second.
“I think what Jake wants to know is why Marina Howell started blushing like a Georgia peach the second she got within ten feet of you,” Eric said. Dylan met his gaze, initiating a stare-down that he was destined to lose. Eric hadn’t helped turn his father’s business into a billion-dollar enterprise by backing down to anyone.
Though that tenacity hadn’t exactly helped with your engagement to Brianne, had it?
Shit. So he wasn’t as over it as much as he’d thought.
No matter.
With the ease of practice, Eric shoved away thoughts of Brianne and their broken engagement, and instead focused on the fact that Dylan had indeed glanced away first.
“Who’s to say why women do anything,” Dylan said. “They’re a fucking mystery.”
“That sounds a lot like the bitter musings of a rejected man,” Jake said, clinking his glass against Eric’s.
“Yeah, well, you two would know about rejection better than anyone,” Dylan shot back. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dylan’s eyes widened and darted to Eric. “Shit, I didn’t mean that, Eric. I was talking about Jake here. Of course Brianne didn’t reject you. I mean, you rejected her first and—”
Eric forced a smile and waved his hand. God, would he ever be able to dodge his past? No, not when everyone in this town knew what had happened. “I knew what you meant, Dylan. Now stop stalling and tell us about Marina.”
Dylan stared at him for several more seconds, then finally relaxed and said, “Told you, nothing to tell. Now can we drop it and enjoy our beers and focus on that table of ladies that are looking our way.”
Slyly, first Jake then Eric zeroed in on the table of four beautiful women that were indeed looking their way. They didn’t look familiar, weren’t locals to Buffalo Falls, and for a moment, Eric wondered what they saw. One thing was certain: they didn’t look at Eric in his jeans and button-down shirt and think he was a billionaire tycoon who just last year had taken over running his grandparents’ hardware store.
Jesus, even he knew how ridiculous that one sounded.
Even so, he’d been enjoying running the store. More recently, he’d been enjoying focusing on a new project: starting up his very own ranch. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to do both. He needed to find some full-time help for his grandparents’ store, which he’d promised to look after while his grandparents went off to see the world. All the times he’d offered to pay for a first class trip around the world for them, they’d turned him down. And now they’d scrimped and saved for damn near fifteen years to take a third rate trip across Europe. They were in hog heaven. Emailing him adorable, lengthy updates filled with blurry selfies.
Jake took his hat off, tossed it on the bar and stood up. “Speaking of women, let’s see if I can rustle us up a few.” He sauntered over to pick out something on the juke box. Eric watched him go and had to admit that when it came to picking out the right song at the right moment, Jacob Tedesco had a sixth sense.
With Jake leaning over the juke box, combing through the singles, Eric gestured in Marina’s direction. “So, what happened?”
“Nothing, man,” Dylan replied, his dark eyes following the movements of Marina’s hands as she dried a few glasses and hung them on hooks over the bar. He hesitated, then kept going. “Nothing that hasn’t happened a hundred times before.”
Eric looked back and forth between Dylan and Marina, intrigued. A hundred times before? What was that supposed to mean? He opened his mouth to ask but felt a hand clap down on his back.
“Eric, what’s good at the old O’Rourke ranch?” Will Owens asked as he signaled for a beer from Marina. Owens was another friend from childhood, not quite as close to Eric as Dylan or Jacob, but still a good guy. With his blonde hair and bright blue eyes, kids used to call him Ken Doll, until he’d beat the shit out of them.
Eric thought of the dilapidated ranch that was, even now, calling his name. Telling him to get started. “Good,” he said. “She needs a ton of work, but she’s got the makings of something amazing.”
“Sure enough,” Will said, accepting his beer from Marina with a wink and healthy tip. She flashed him a smile and then scurried back to the other end of the bar. “You need any help in that arena?”
Will owned a successful ranch himself. Ranching was in his family’s blood. He could have been salty that Eric was starting his own so close to where Will’s was, but instead here Will was, generously offering to help him out.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Eric said to Will.
Will nodded. “Of course, man. I’m well aware of the satisfaction that running a successful ranch can bring. I want that for my friend.” He clapped Eric on the back again. “However, seeing as you’re one rich bitch, I couldn’t give a flying fuck whether or not your ranch turns a profit.”
Jacob gave his signature hooting laugh as he came back to join his buddies, the first strains of ‘Chain of Fools’ rolling out over the bar. The women at the table were looking at them again, and Eric noticed a few other women poking their heads up like prairie dogs, starting to sway to the tune of the song.
He hadn’t even noticed them in the bar before the song had come on. He shook his head. Jacob certainly had a
gift.
“Ain’t that the truth. That reminds me, drinks are on you tonight, Eric,” Jake said, planting himself back on his barstool but swiveling around for a good look at the women who’d moved to the dance floor. Surveying his dirty work.
“You’ll pay for your own damn drink, Tedesco,” Dylan growled, face sour enough to scare Medusa off. “Just because Eric’s got money doesn’t mean he needs to float your ass every night of the week.”
“What’s a couple of beers between friends?” Jake asked, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
“I’ll tell you what,” Eric said to the group. “Drinks are on me if Jake can do something amazing. Give us a little entertainment.”
“Oh boy,” Dylan grumbled, sucking down the rest of his beer and signaling Marina for another one.
“What kind of entertainment?” Jake asked, obviously up for anything.
“You gotta get a woman to leave this bar with you in under fifteen minutes,” Will interjected, getting in on the fun as well.
“I thought you said you needed me to do something amazing?” Jake blustered. “That’s just a typical Friday night.”
Jake stood and executed a runner’s stretch, cracking his knuckles and making all the men laugh and roll their eyes. Jake flipped around to face the men and started moonwalking his way toward a group of women on the dance floor.
“Oh, lord,” Marina said as she set Dylan’s beer in front of him. “Who’s he got his eye on now?”
Dylan immediately turned to her. Eric noticed that Dylan’s hand curled, momentarily, over Marina’s on his glass. She jumped back as if she’d been burned. She licked her lips and dropped her eyes.
“You know he’s got his eye on everyone and anyone,” Dylan said, his voice light despite the intensity of the moment that had just passed between them.