Accidentally Engaged_A Romance Collection

by Nikki Chase

  Aiden—Two Years Later

  As I bend down over the desk to write a short note, it strikes me how much Aubrey and I have been through. Things are so different now compared to that day when I saw her again at the church where Earl got married. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe it’s only been two years.

  I’m a corporate medical advisor now, working to help injured workers find the right treatments for their conditions. It pays just as well as a hospital job, and the hours are more certain.

  I like it okay.

  I make enough money to help my mom with her rent so she can work fewer hours, and I’ve also been footing the bill for her therapy sessions. One of the great perks of my job is having solid insurance options at discounted prices, so that’s been a big help, too.

  I’d never tell Aubrey this because she’d feel guilty, but if it weren’t for her dad’s threat, I’d still be working as a doctor right now.

  It’s been a pleasure, watching Aubrey bloom into a confident doctor. She feels like a doctor these days. She does good work and her patients love her.

  Sometimes, when I listen to her stories about the hospital, I kind of miss it.

  I don’t regret my career change, though. When I finally signed the contract for my current job, it felt like a big weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t have to worry about Aubrey’s dad anymore. I could breathe easy.

  I mean, really, a job’s a job. Aubrey, on the other hand… Well, she’s about to be my wife. She’s my family. She’s my priority, and always will be.

  “Are you done yet?” Marcus asks, elongating his words to let us know just how bored he is.

  Clearly, I’m the only person in this room who thinks this is the most exciting day in history. Earl’s playing with his phone with a facial expression that looks a lot like his son’s.

  Great. Both my best man and my ring bearer are already uninterested, although maybe it’s just early and I’m being an over-sensitive Groomzilla.

  “Yeah,” I tell Marcus as I pass my handwritten note to him. As the ring bearer, he gets the privileged access to both my dressing room and Aubrey’s, so he’s the only one who can be my messenger.

  He glances at the note. “This is so lame,” he says.

  “Yeah? Well, I’m sure your Aunt Bee won’t think it’s lame.”

  “Girls are lame,” Marcus says.

  “You’re what, nine?” I ask. “You have a few more years until girls start to seem a lot less lame.”

  Marcus shrugs. He stares at the bottom of the note. “Hey, if you’re Uncle A and she’s Aunt Bee, are you going to call your kid Cee?”

  Earl bursts out laughing as I narrow my eyes at Marcus. Marcus and his parents are the only people who call Aubrey Bee, so I’ve never realized this before.

  “If it’s a girl, you can call her CeeCee, and that can be her name. If it’s a boy, you can go with anything that starts with the letter ‘c’ and just call him Cee.” He pauses to think, then with confidence, he says, “Carlos would be a good name.”

  I join Earl in laughter. I shoot Earl a questioning look.

  “Carlos is his best friend in school,” Earl explains. He turns to Marcus. “When you see your mom, tell her I know her dress has pockets. I have about fifty pictures of it already on my phone, so she can stop sending them.” Earl pauses to think. “But also tell her she looks pretty so she doesn’t get mad.”

  “Okay, cool,” Marcus says as he saunters out of the hotel room, my note in his hand.

  Watching him walk away, I muse, “I get the feeling he thinks we’re just as lame as the girls.”

  “Oh, there’s no question about it. He does, for sure,” Earl says. He goes quiet for a few seconds. “Hey, what is it with women and pockets?”

  I shrug. I don't really care about that right now. I just hope Aubrey will like my sappy little note.

  Epilogue

  Aubrey

  “Princess,

  Out of the billions of men on Earth, you’ve chosen to be with me. That makes me I’m the luckiest guy in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out, and sometimes I still can’t believe you’re mine.

  Twelve years ago, when we first met, you were just a cute girl at work, but I knew I had to talk to you, even if it took me weeks to work up the courage to ask you out. And now, you're about to be my wife.

  Even though the road here has been long and winding, I don’t regret a single thing. You’re my best friend, and I can’t imagine going through life without you.

  In a few hours, I’ll be able to tell everyone you’re my wife. I can’t wait.

  See you at our wedding. I’ll be the guy standing next to the minister at the end of the aisle.

  Love,

  A

  Tears spring to my eyes as I read Aiden’s note. It’s so sweet. He’s so sweet, and I’m the lucky one for having him in my life.

  “Aww…” Hannah smiles as she snaps some pictures of me with her phone camera. I hear multiple clicks. “Seriously, you two are adorable.”

  “Those pictures had better not end up on Instagram,” I warn my sister, even though I’m sure I don’t sound threatening at all with my voice distorted by crying.

  “Okay. Facebook it is,” she says.

  Mom hands me the box of tissues. “You’re going to ruin your makeup if you keep crying like that.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I dab carefully at my eyes and cheeks.

  I’ve fantasized about my wedding day, of course. Which girl hasn’t?

  But just a couple of years ago, I never would’ve expected that I’d be getting married to Aiden. And even in my wildest imagination, I never would’ve dreamed of marrying Aiden and having my whole family attend the wedding.

  I still don’t know when it finally clicked for me that I’m supposed to be with Aiden, and there’s nothing I can do to change that—not that I ever wanted to.

  The clock seems to crawl until I finally walk through the open doors into the old stone church where we're about to get married.

  As he promised, Aiden’s at the end of the aisle, grinning at me with pride and love in his blue eyes. He’s absolutely striking in his tailored suit. And whenever Aiden looks good in something, I get the urge to take it off and jump his bones.

  Today, though, I have to wait all day and all night until we get some time alone.

  But at least, now, he’ll be by my side. Nobody can keep us apart anymore, not even just for one night because it’s “bad luck” for us to see each other before the wedding.

  I can’t believe how much I miss him. It’s not easy for me to maintain a slow pace to match the music, because all I want to do is run into Aiden’s arms. Aside from last night, we’ve always shared a bed ever since Aiden stole me away from Hannah’s home.

  Everything has just fallen into place easily for us. I realize now why it never worked with any other guy. I know now why they always seemed too clingy. It’s simple: none of them was Aiden, and I was never into anyone else.

  The wedding guests have stood up to their feet, and most of them are looking my way (although Marcus is stealing a little of my thunder with his adorably, impish grin). But I’ve got my eyes on Aiden.

  Because of my dad’s excessive need to control me, I used to want to be a lone wolf. I wanted to break free and do everything myself.

  Now, I see that it’s okay to depend on other people sometimes. I mean, if it weren’t for Hannah’s help, yes, Aiden and I would still be together, and we’d probably be doing fine.

  But as I walk down the aisle, holding on to my dad’s arm while gazing giddily at Aiden, I realize that going it ourselves wouldn’t have been as satisfying.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say just before we reach the end of the aisle. I give him a light kiss on the cheek.

  My dad smiles sagely and pats my hand before I let go. He tends to be quiet at emotional moments like this. He always looks awkward too, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

  He has
n’t voiced any objections about Aiden since the intervention, but they’ve been warming up to each other. They greet each other and speak civilly when they meet at birthdays and holiday dinners.

  I don’t think my dad is ever going to be as close to Aiden as he is to Earl, seeing as they’ve been working together for years. But I’m okay with that.

  I know now why my luck was so shit at the slot machine. I think I used up all my luck meeting him. He’s been worth the trouble, though. I’m glad he showed up again, and I’m glad I never moved on after we parted the first time.

  As Aiden takes my hands, my surroundings turn into background blur. All I see is Aiden—his dark hair that makes me want to reach out and run my fingers through it, his strong jaw, and his sharp, blue, familiar eyes.

  The minister is probably saying something important, but Aiden and I are busy sharing our excitement.

  To everyone else, we may appear to just be staring and grinning at each other like idiots. But we’re having an entire conversation with our eyes right now. I’m telling him I loved his note, and I hated waking up to an empty bed. He’s telling me he was so excited he couldn’t sleep last night.

  In front of everyone we know and love, we share a private, wordless conversation in our secret language.

  And when the minister gives the prompt, we make a public vow. To love and to cherish each other for as long as we both shall live.

  “Before you kiss the bride,” the minister says, “let me end with a quote from the Bible. “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

  I hope my dad hears that, I think to myself. Aiden smirks and gives me a look that says he knows exactly what I’m thinking about, and he agrees . . . but it’s time for our wedding kiss now.

  He pulls me close and I let my eyelids flutter shut. These lips . . . No matter how many times I’ve kissed them, it never feels like enough.

  Aiden pulls away. Amidst the cheers of our wedding guests, he says, in a low voice only I can hear, “You’d better not get tired of doing that. Because you’re stuck with me now. For better or worse. You heard what the minister said.”

  I giggle. It’s scary how well Aiden reads my thoughts, but it’s even scarier how comfortable I am having him in my head.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “I love you, too, princess.” He pauses and turns to look at me. “I mean . . . I love you too, wifey.”

  Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed Aubrey and Aiden’s story.

  Want more?

  Again is also available in the Big Bad Boys Box Set, which contains SEVEN stand-alone romances and bonus, exclusive chapters, featuring the seven couples from the stories included in the box set:

  My Brother’s Best Friend

  Mountain Man’s Baby Plan

  Knocked Up

  Baby for My Brother’s Friend

  Again

  Royal Beast

  My Brother’s Friend, the Dom

  Click here to get the Big Bad Boys Box Set.

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  Stripped

  A Bad Boy Next Door Romance

  Jessica

  Three Years Ago

  “Come on, it’s my birthday.” The guy grabs my wrist, hard. His lips form into the shape of a smile and the apples of his cheeks shift up, but something dangerous flashes in his cold eyes.

  His friends around us cheer from their couches, their hungry gaze flicking between my half-naked body and the dancer who’s currently on stage.

  “Happy birthday,” I shout over the music that’s blaring in the background, then give him my best customer-service smile and pull my wrist away. “But I don’t do anything beyond lap dances.”

  He’s not letting go. At first glance, his arm looks like it’s draped lazily over the arm of the couch, but his big muscles are flexed.

  “What time do you get off?,” he insists.

  “Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll have to call security.”

  “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have a little fun. I thought strippers were supposed to be fun.” That fake smile on his otherwise expressionless face is seriously creeping me out. What an asshole. I look around to see if any bouncer is looking my way.

  “Don’t be a creep, man.” One of the asshole’s friends taps him on the shoulder with an annoyed scowl on his face. “Take a hint. She’s not into you.”

  “Fuck you,” the asshole says with an annoyed, embarrassed chuckle. He finally lets go of my hand.

  I take two steps back and shoot the friend a grateful look. He nods at me and mouths a silent sorry.

  The friend—my savior—doesn't look friendly at all. His handsome, angular facial features are frozen in a perma-grump, but something in his intense dark eyes doesn't quite fit the gruff exterior.

  Like the rest of his group, he’s a big guy with beefy muscles and hair shaved close to the scalp. I’d bet all my tips tonight that they’re military.

  The guy who just saved me… Even standing here among other big, strong men, he towers over everyone else. Wide shoulders, broad chest, hard muscles all over. Through his white crewneck, I can almost make out the lines of his chest and abs underneath, even with the dim lighting inside the club.

  Now, if he were the one to ask me for something more than a lap dance…

  Well, it would still lead to nothing, actually. I’m serious about my policy to never see any of my customers outside the club.

  Still, as I make my way across the floor toward the dressing room, I wonder if he's checking me out my ass.

  Good thing I’ve got my stripper strut down pat. It's not hard, really. Just wear impossibly high heels. They push your butt out and force you to swing your hips.

  It takes a lot of practice to stand and dance on these babies for hours every night, but my feet still hurt sometimes. Like now, when my shift is almost over.

  Most of the men have their eyes on Desiree, who’s wrapping one long leg around the pole as she sways her hips seductively to the loud music. The men standing right by the edge of the stage are shouting at her like they’re her choreographers.

  “Show me your ass, baby!”

  “Oh yeah, shake those moneymakers!”

  A few men sitting at the tables check me out as I walk past, their lusty gaze roaming all over my exposed cleavage, my uncovered midriff, my bare legs.

  While the military guys from the group I entertained are fit young men, the average patron in a strip club is… Well, not in such a good shape.

  I don’t know why my co-workers date these men. It’s not like they go on to have healthy relationships. From the stories of the girls I work with, dating a customer only leads to trouble.

  No doubt the fact that the guy has, at some point in time, walked into the club and gotten a lap dance from his girlfriend affects the relationship dynamics profoundly.

  According to the girls who have told their stories in the dressing room, boyfriends bury their resentment at first until it all blows up into ugly arguments and accusations.

  “Here’s $20. Maybe that’ll get you in the mood,” said one such boyfriend.

  “How was your fucking day? Been rubbing that pussy all over random guys’ dicks all night, as usual?”

  “Why won’t you quit for me? Still holding out for a richer guy, huh? I’m too poor to be your sugar daddy?”

  Yeah, no. I don’t want any of that in my life.

  I enter the dressing room and close the door behind me, shutting out the loud music and the even louder crowd.

  “Busy night,” I say to no one in particular as I step out of my shoes.

  There’s no answer. Strange.

  Someone is always in the dressing room, changing or doing make-up or exchanging the latest gossip. This silence is u
nusual.

  There’s a row of mirrors in front of me, while some lockers line the wall beside me. On the other side of the room, a tall cabinet where we store our costumes and makeup items separates the changing room from the showers.

  The smooth concrete floor feels cold on my bare feet as I step toward the cabinet. When I peek behind it, I realize why it’s so quiet.

  Nancy stands in the corner, her shoulders hunched, as if she’s trying to make herself as small as possible. Stan, the owner of the club, towers over her, his stance aggressive.

  When Nancy’s terrified gaze lands on me, Stan turns around with a glare.

  “Everything okay, guys?” My voice comes out steady even though my heart is jumping against my rib cage. Stan is a big, scary guy, but I can’t just watch Nancy in distress and do nothing.

  Stan grunts in reply and stomps past me to leave the room. Dance music pours inside when he opens the door, only to be muted again once it’s closed.

  “Are you okay, Nance?” I close the gap between us and pull her body into a hug. She’s shaking. Poor thing.

  Nobody quite knows the exact nature of the relationship between Stan and Nancy, but all the guys know enough to never even speak to Nancy and all the girls know enough to stay away when they’re together. All the girls except me, that is.

  “Yeah.” With her body crumpling into my arms and her eyes avoiding mine, she doesn’t sound very convincing.

  “Are you sure? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No. Really, I’m fine.” Nancy pulls away from me and gives me a weak smile. She looks so pretty when she smiles. Too bad she doesn’t do it often. “Done for the night?”

  “Yeah. I should go home now. My mom’s probably fallen asleep in front of the TV again. With no blanket. She gets sick a lot these days. I don’t know why it’s so hard for her to just grab a blanket.” I get my clothes from the locker and change.