Bad Boy Brit (A British Bad Boy Romance)
Page 21
“Well, that explains why it looks a bit cheap,” Mikey interjected.
“Since I won it, it’s been a symbol of everything that’s been good in my life. I want you to have it, because you’ve made it practically obsolete by being the very best thing in my world. So what do you say…marry me?”
My hand went to my mouth again as he spoke, and I considered his words.
It turned out that I didn’t even need to. I already knew what my answer would be, despite the fact that I’d just been yelling at the poor guy only ten minutes earlier.
Back when I’d first met Liam, I’d been torn by the confusing feelings I’d had for him. I’d disliked everything about him and wanted him at the same time, but now…now I was head-over-heels in love with him, despite all the crap we’d been through. I knew that I’d been totally wrong when I’d distrusted him and run away from him, but he’d chased after me and forgiven me without a second thought, because that was the sort of person he was.
He was the best. The absolute best.
He’d been a bad boy in his earlier days, but it was damn near impossible to resist a bad boy who was also a good man, and that’s exactly what Liam was. He was a great man, and he made everything in the world better just by being in it—a billion times better.
I stared at the ring, thoughts running crazily through my head. “You know, I lied to you too,” I finally said.
Liam’s face fell. “Oh…you did?”
I smiled and gently took the ring. “Yes. I promised you something if you won the cup final, but I never gave it to you. I think it’s about time I delivered….”
Chapter 25
Liam
Eight months later
I was standing at the altar of London’s most historic and lavish church, in front of over three hundred people. There were throngs of people outside in the streets, too—journalists, photographers, and screaming fans. Most other people in this situation would be doubled over, crippled with panic at all this attention…but not me.
After all, I was Liam Croft.
And before you think of me as overly-cocky for saying that, just remember that today was the one day when I could afford to be a little cocky, seeing as I was about to marry the most wonderful woman in the world.
No, scratch that—the most wonderful woman in the whole universe.
I almost hadn’t been able to believe how lucky I was when Allison agreed to marry me last year, but I’d never been happier. Weeks before that, I’d been feeling like something was missing in my life, and the minute she’d stepped into my world, I’d known it was her. She’d been the missing puzzle piece; the one thing I needed to be whole.
And now she was about to be my wife. Yup, I really was the luckiest bastard in the world.
A lot had changed in the months leading up to this day. Allison and I had finally sorted out our conundrum involving our careers and the fact that we came from different continents. Alan Granger had made her an offer as soon as he’d heard the news of our engagement, and she was now the British correspondent for her magazine, reporting on all sports—even cricket. Her father had moved across to England with us, and with my help, he was seeing as many live football matches as he could get to—for free and in the very best seats. My brother and Lauren Bilson had returned from their extended holiday in time for Dean to be my best man today, and I was happy to say that I’d be returning that favor in the near future.
I still didn’t speak to my parents—and I’d made my peace with that—but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a great family. I did, even though it might not be a conventional one. I had Allison, her Dad, Dean and Lauren—that was all the family I needed…at least for now. I wanted kids, and thankfully, so did Allison. I couldn’t wait to see her pregnant and glowing, and I couldn’t wait to see our family grow.
As for my career, it was going great. Busy and challenging, but fun as hell. I was the Captain of the English national squad, and I’d made some great new friends in my new teammates. I still caught up with my old teammates as often as I could, and they’d give me a good round of teasing over my coveted new position. All in good fun, of course, and I’d tease them right back.
I had a new manager now; a whip-smart guy named Ted Armstrong. He was great to work with, did the job perfectly, and he never compromised my morals or health the way Brian Thomas had. Best of all, he also loved Allison, and he’d never call her boss and try to get her fired the way Brian had months ago. And speaking of Brian, he’d wound up in prison for slipping me a roofie that infamous night. His defense for his actions was that drugging a footballer to obtain compromising but commercially valuable pictures of him was an essential part of the game, a defense that was wholeheartedly rejected by a judge who, unfortunately for Brian, was an ardent football fan.
Better yet, it appeared that the judge was correct. The public had taken the new version of me to their hearts and, rather wonderfully, they still envied me. It was easy envying a playboy with inexhaustible money and women, but it was more satisfying to envy the man who’d found something better than all that.
And I had…I definitely had. I’d found Allison, and speaking of her, she was walking down the aisle right now, arm in arm with her father.
As un-manly as this might make me sound, a tear came to my eye as I watched her slowly make her way towards me. She was smiling radiantly and looked positively giddy with excitement, and her ivory-colored dress hugged her curves so perfectly that I was tempted to run up the aisle, throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to the damn hotel right away.
She was completely and utterly breathtaking…and she was about to be mine forever.
She finally made it to the altar, and I winked at her as her father left her alone with me. The officiant was nowhere to be seen, and she wrinkled her forehead at me.
“What’s going on?” she whispered. “Where’s the minister?”
I shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. “Not sure.”
She looked confused, and as titters rippled through the guests, she turned her head.
“Oh my god. You didn’t.”
“Oh, yes I did,” I replied with a grin.
Mikey was striding down the aisle towards us. I’d told Allison that I’d hired a real priest to perform the ceremony, but truthfully, I’d teamed up with our favorite cabbie to plan something. I knew there was a chance that Allison and I might not be together if it hadn’t been for him and the rather odd friendship they’d struck up when she first arrived in London, and he’d happily agreed to become ordained online so he could marry us.
I couldn’t think of anyone better to do it.
“That’s why I saw his wife and kids in the pews, but not him!” Allison said, shaking her head as a wide grin spread across her face.
Mikey finally reached us. “Sorry I’m late, love,” he said, nodding at Allison and quickly stepping around us to the altar. “Sent the wife and kids ahead while I got dressed and ready. Then the bloody traffic…”
He saw the amused look my brother was throwing at him from near us, and he shook his head. “Right, anyway…let’s get you two married.”
“Wait…is that what this is? I thought this was just a birthday party,” I said, feigning confusion.
“Hilarious. Shut up and marry me,” Allison replied.
I grinned.
There was nothing I wanted to do more.
Chapter 26
Allison
One year later
It was a beautiful goal, whistling through the air and narrowly missing one of the brand new goal posts to land in the back of the net. Young Rob ran the length of the pitch, his teammates behind him, cheering.
“Liam! Liam! Did you see that?!” he called out in our direction.
Liam nodded beside me. A while ago, he’d come clean to the kids about who he really was, and in the event it had been a pretty smooth transition—the kids were naturally surprised to learn that their friend Harry was in fact their hero Liam Croft, b
ut they’d adored Harry anyway. And, since they’d come to know Liam as Harry, they still treated him as a mate, rather than as an icon.
“The new locker rooms look good,” I mused, twisting the wedding ring on my finger as if I still couldn’t quite believe it was there.
“Lots of memories waiting to be made,” Liam said with a wink.
“Yes…I was thinking it might be nice to come back and see them alone someday…” I left the thought hanging.
Liam grinned. “I think that’s a first rate idea. Too bad we can’t do it tomorrow…we’ve got that lunch with Dean and Lauren.”
“There’s always other days. I can’t wait to see them, by the way. Lauren has to tell us all about her new BBC gig, and Dean’s always so funny.”
“Not fair. All you ladies seem to prefer my brother’s company these days. Whatever happened to me being the sexy playboy, eh?”
I shrugged. “When were you ever a sexy playboy?” I said, affecting an innocent air.
He feigned a downcast expression. “Why did I marry such a mean woman?”
“Because you know I’m only kidding, and because you love me.”
“Damn right I do,” he said, grinning and squeezing my hand.
I smiled back at my husband and then turned my attention back to the kids’ match. All was right with the world, and we couldn’t be any happier.
Liam was now the official sponsor of the youth team in his home neighborhood, which seemed to be giving the local economy as well as the local kids a boost. When he had the time, he also coached other kids from troubled families, a job that involved as much talking as football. He’d also set up the Croft Foundation, a charity organization which did everything he’d dreamed of earlier in his career; all the wonderful things he’d told me during that fateful exclusive interview.
As for my own career, it was going wonderfully. I loved working as the British correspondent for Granger’s magazine, and he often called me to chat and tell me how I was practically single-handedly helping a lot of Americans develop a fascination with English sports. I was happy to be contributing in that manner, and I was also very grateful to have a boss like Granger—he had his moments where he made silly and inappropriate comments, but all in all, he was a kind and fair man who’d given me more chances than I deserved.
On top of my job, I was helping Liam write an autobiography. I still had lots of notes and material from when I’d interviewed him so long ago, so there was a lot to discuss and write, but it was fun working together, and when the book was done, all proceeds from sales would be going directly to the Croft Foundation.
“You know,” Liam said as he watched young Rob and his team driving back up the pitch, “when I’m done with playing, I think this is what I’d like to do, full-time.”
“You like coaching that much, huh?”
I wondered if this was the moment to deliver some more news to him.
“I like looking after the kids,” he replied.
I smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” I took his hand and placed it on my belly. “Because you’re going to be doing a lot more of it.”
Liam’s face looked like the sun coming out. “You’re…”
“Yes. I’m pregnant! Just had it confirmed this morning.”
“Oh my god…I can’t believe it!” Liam kept his hand on my belly, clearly cherishing his first moment of knowing he was going to be a father. “I can’t wait to feel him kick. Or her.”
I smiled, my eyes twinkling with good humor. “I’d almost rather he didn’t kick, actually, because if he’s anything like his father, he’ll be a regular football star, and he’ll be kicking at my uterus day in, day out.”
“Oh? Who’s the father, then?”
I playfully elbowed him. “Oh, shush. Kiss me.”
“As you wish.”
He wrapped me in his arms and leaned down before crushing my lips with his, and I moaned into his mouth as my lips parted. Goose bumps broke out across my skin as we embraced, and shivers ran down my spine.
For a former bad boy, Liam was a damn good kisser…
It wasn’t only him who’d changed for the better. I’d changed as well. In the time that I’d known him, he’d showed me how to let go of my reservations and let my hair down on occasion—even if that meant we sometimes ended up running away from security guards after steamy sessions in the announcer’s booth—and he’d also showed me that I had no reason to be insecure about anything by telling me how beautiful I was to him every single day. When we’d first met, I’d been far too serious and uptight about everything, and all it had taken was a few weeks with Liam to show me that I needed to loosen up, let my guard down and trust someone enough to love me inside and out.
I guess sometimes, a bad boy can be very good for a girl…and my British bad boy had turned out to be a good man who’d fulfilled my life in every way I’d ever dreamed of. That was all I could ask for, and it was all I’d ever need.
THE END
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Bad Boy Baby Daddy
© 2016 Avery Wilde with Caitlin Daire
COPYRIGHT
Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarities to events or situations is also coincidental.
Chapter 1
Riley
“Kaiden Cross? Kaiden Cross?”
Despite my usually reserved demeanor, my boss Eric’s latest announcement had surprised me enough to make me lose my cool and practically shriek, almost spilling the latte that had been halfway to my lips when he’d walked into my office. He’d just announced who my latest public relations client was going to be, but I’d surely misheard him. It couldn’t be that Kaiden Cross.
Then again, who else could it be? There weren’t many super-famous athletes with a name like Kaiden Cross, after all.
I could picture him my mind as clear as day; every tiny little detail and aspect of him—his towering height, the colorful tattoos twining up and down his biceps and across his chest, all that ropey muscle which flexed whenever he stretched and grinned from the TV screens he frequented, and those gorgeous dimples and electric blue eyes which were always flashing with that daredevil look he was so famous for. Those sinful eyes alone had made him the object of every girl’s fantasy within the last year or so, including me, but you couldn’t pay me enough to actually admit that to anyone I.
Nope, not even a million bucks.
My boss flashed me a beatific smile, obviously expecting me to jump up and kiss him out of sheer gratitude for the huge new client he’d just dumped on me. “Yes, Kaiden Cross. The UFC fighter. I gather you’ve heard of him?”
I composed myself as well as I could, swallowing hard to try and mask my nerves, but my heart continued to flutter like the wings of a trapped bird. “Yes, I’ve heard of him,” I said. “At least that’s one way to put it,” I added in a mutter.
I’d more than heard of the guy. Believe it or not, I’d actually grown up next door to him up until the age of twelve, upon which I’d moved away with my Mom after she and my Dad got a divorce. Back then, Kaiden had been a lanky, geeky kid with a slight lisp and coke-bottle glasses. He’d also been my best friend. We’d played after school every day, climbed trees together on weekends, stomped in puddles togethe
r after rainstorms, and helped each other defeat high-level bosses on our console games. We’d even kissed each other’s cuts and bruises whenever one of us fell over.
Yeah, he used to be a real sweetie. Those lips weren’t so innocent anymore, although they were probably just as sweet…but I digress.
After I’d moved away from our old neighborhood in the sixth grade, I’d thought we’d stay in contact, but fate had other plans for us. Kaiden’s father had moved him to the other side of the city and a different school within a month of me and my Mom moving, and I had no idea what his new address or home phone number was. This had all been before the age of Facebook and Instagram, so it had been a lot harder to stay in touch with someone, especially as a child. I’d given him my new address before I’d moved, and he’d written to me a few times, but within six months, the letters had stopped. For a while, I’d wondered why, but I’d eventually let it go. Sometimes friends simply drifted apart, and even at the tender age of twelve I’d understood that. I’d been sad for a while, but it was relatively easy for kids to bounce back. I’d found new friends, and eventually, a whole week had gone by in which I didn’t think about my old friend. That week became a month, then that month became a year, and soon, that year had stretched into many.
I hadn’t thought about him at all in nearly eleven years until I turned on my TV one evening a year and a half ago. I’d barely recognized him at the time, but as soon as the sports news presenter had mentioned his name, my eyebrows had shot up, and I’d leaned closer to see if it was the same boy I’d once known.