Don't Fall For Me : An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Hate to Love Book 1)

by Gigi Black

  It didn’t matter that the statement didn’t make any sense. It still felt as if she’d kicked me in the stomach. I could barely breathe as I stared at her.

  “Who are you?” I asked. “What happened to the Kara I grew up with?”

  “Oh, you mean the one who always lived in your perfect shadow? She got tired of being the one who was always left behind. Miss White-Tail High Dux. Miss Everybody Wants Me.” Kara rolled her eyes. “You’re a failure now, and if you want to get anywhere, you’re going to have to rely on me for a change. And treat me very nicely at that. Especially if you want financial help. Who’s the one who has to pay rent now?”

  “You can keep your fucking money,” I said. “I don’t want it. It’s dirty and disgusting.”

  Kara blinked like it was unfathomable anyone would turn down cash.

  “I’m going to the news stations, the papers, everyone,” I said. “Today. And I’m going to tell them that you lied.”

  Kara shrugged. “I don’t care who knows,” she said. “I did what I had to do. I have the money now, and no one can take that away from me.”

  “Damien could sue you for slander. And I hope you didn’t file a police report, because you can get in trouble for that too.”

  “He won’t sue me,” Kara said. “He likes you, so he won’t sue me.”

  “Oh yeah?” I fisted my hips. “Well, you can bet I’ll be encouraging him to do just that.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Kara said, laughing. “Come on, we’re twins. Blood is thicker than water.”

  “Now it’s thicker than water? Didn’t seem that thick when you were on TV pretending to be me.”

  My sister had gone pale. She stowed her phone and folded her arms. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is, Hazel.”

  “You’re not my sister anymore,” I said and walked off, leaving her standing in the hall alone, my insides burning with anger. I would come back later when Kara wasn’t hanging around with Dad. Being in the same room with her was out of the question, right now.

  It was time for damage control.

  40

  Damien

  A few days later…

  The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the reception area in front of my father’s office. The doors were closed as usual, and the new receptionist looked up from her computer screen. Her eyes widened and she scrambled upright. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’re not allowed up here.”

  “Oh yeah?” I laughed. “You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re Damien Woods.”

  “Shit, OK. I’ll sign an autograph for you later. Right now? I’ve got business to attend to.” I strode past her, ignoring the clatter of her high heels on the wooden floor, and pushed my father’s office doors open.

  He was on a conference call, standing behind his desk with a golf club slung over one shoulder. He caught sight of me and froze.

  “Hello, Mortimer,” I said.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Woods,” the receptionist whispered, shifting weight from one foot to the other. “I couldn’t stop him.”

  “I’ll call you back, Harold.” My father tapped the button on his phone then turned to his receptionist. “You’re fired. Clear out your personal effects and leave.”

  The woman trembled on the spot.

  “Trust me, you’re better off,” I said to her. I wanted to feel guilty, but my father would’ve only used her until she lost value to him then fired her anyway. This way, she’d wind up skipping out on all the old man sex.

  The young woman had gone pale. She fled the room and shut the door behind her.

  “Mortimer strikes again,” I said, coldly.

  My father stretched out his hand, likely to press a button that would summon security to his office.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “What the hell are you doing here, Damien?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be covering your own ass? You’re the new face of abusive relationships.”

  “Shit, you haven’t been keeping up with the news, have you?” The real Hazel had already spoken to everyone and outed her sister. I already had so much to prove to her, and that had only added to the list. She’d had her heart broken by me, but she’d still gone ahead and defended me publicly.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “I could ask you to do the same thing,” I said and removed the hard drive from my pocket. I tossed it onto the desk. “Check that out.”

  “I don’t have time for—”

  “It’s everything,” I said. “All your illegal dealings from the past twenty years. Every lawsuit you had squashed, every person you paid off, every deposition. And before you ask, that’s only one of several copies that I keep on my person and in secure locations. Take a look if you don’t believe me.”

  The infallible Mortimer Woods had gone the color of rotten milk. He picked up the drive with fumbling fingers. He plugged it into the computer. A moment passed, and then he met my gaze. “What do you want?”

  “Hmm, that’s a loaded question,” I said.

  “Just tell me.”

  “There’s a list,” I replied. “Firstly, I want you to give me McCutcheon’s Café. The property you bought from Hazel’s father?”

  “I wasn’t involved in that particular acquisition.”

  “I don’t care. I want it. No payments. Give it to me.”

  “Done,” my father said. “What else?”

  “Seth isn’t going to be the new CEO,” I replied. “I don’t care who you get or what you do, but you leave Seth and Caleb out of it.”

  “Fine. Anything else?”

  “You stay the fuck away from my businesses and my plans. If you try to destroy me again, well, all of these documents will be leaked to the press. It’s fair to say that the other parties involved in these dealings wouldn’t be too happy about that, would they?” I asked.

  “Done.”

  “That’s it,” I said. “That’s all I want.”

  Mortimer ground his teeth so hard they squeaked, but there was nothing he could do. It was over. He had ruined my mother’s life, and he had tried to ruin mine, Seth’s and probably Caleb’s, but he couldn’t touch us anymore.

  It was the most liberated I’d been. The sense of foreboding, the fear of losing everything had lifted. I’d spent so many years worried about losing my inheritance and the status being Mortimer’s son had brought me.

  Shit, I’d even been desperate enough to fake an engagement. And now, I was free.

  I smirked. “You can keep that drive,” I said and walked for the door. I paused on the threshold. “Oh, and one last thing.”

  My father was a deer in headlights, bracing himself for the impact that would come. He thought I wanted something else, even worse than what I’d already requested.

  “You’ll rot in hell for what you did to Mom. In this life or the next.” And then I was out, my goal singular.

  Hazel.

  41

  Hazel

  I parked my car outside the house without really seeing it or anything else. Fatigue tugged at my eyelids, my arms were heavy, and all I wanted after the hell that was today was to get in a bubble bath and then go to bed.

  There were very few positives to life at the moment. Try none.

  I got out of the car, grabbed my purse, and headed for the steps, jangling my keys, yawning, and hoping that I’d fall asleep fast. These days, it didn’t matter how tired I was, I struggled to drop off.

  I reached the first step before I noticed the polished black shoes, the pants, and the entire-ass man standing in front of my door.

  “Hyaaa!” I shrieked and backpedaled.

  Damien caught me under the arms. “Easy, Hazel, it’s me. It’s me.”

  “Shit! What are you doing standing in the dark like that? Are you trying to give me a coronary embolism?”

  “If I knew what it was, probably no,” he replied, chuckling.

  That laugh sent shivers through me, despite my tiredness.

 
“You should leave your porch light on,” he said.

  “I forgot. I’ve been busy.”

  “I saw that.”

  A quiet. A scattering of stars overhead, twilight, and the subtle scent of his cologne. “What are you doing here? Is it because of Kara? Look, I already tried my best to rectify everything, so—”

  “I’m here for you,” Damien said, easily, those deep brown pools holding me prisoner. “I felt that my apology wasn’t good enough, last time.”

  “It was fine,” I breathed.

  Don’t let him in. Don’t let him in. Don’t love him.

  “I love you,” he said.

  My mind went still. “W–what?”

  “I love you.” Damien smiled at me, easily. “But I guess I should’ve told you that the last time I came around. I didn’t have the balls then, but I do now. You’re the only woman who’s ever scared me.”

  “Damien. Don’t say things you don’t—”

  “Have I ever said it to you before?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “I’ve never said it to anyone,” Damien replied. “I’ve been a fool, Hazel. For years, I’ve been afraid of falling in love or feeling for anyone because the last time I cared, I lost everything.”

  “The last time?” I clung to his words because I couldn’t process emotions right now. I wouldn’t let myself believe it.

  “The day after we had sex, years ago, when I left and never called? That was because my mother had overdosed. My father had kicked her out of the house years earlier, and I hadn’t seen her until that same year. But she was destitute. My father had ruined her, just like he threatened to ruin me. She turned to drugs, and…” He broke off, and tugged on his collar. “Yeah. I found out the day after. I left Chicago for good. Lost myself in New York. Got arrested, had my father pull me back into the business with threats and persuasion.”

  I didn’t know what to say to this. It was the first time he’d opened up to me like this. Fully.

  “After that, my life became about trying to avoid feelings and focus on work. Starting something of my own.”

  “The charity,” I said.

  “For abuse victims,” he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “So, that’s why I was an idiot about you. Because, though I never wanted to admit it, you are the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted,” he said and removed something from his pocket. “And I’m hoping that’s the same for you too. Man not woman. Ha.”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t hard and terrible. He was soft, sweet, and holding a velvet box.

  Damien lowered himself to one knee in front of me. “I know this can’t fix everything,” he said. “But if you’ll do me the honor of being my wife, for real this time, I will do everything in my power to make your life better.”

  “Damien, I—” Tears ran down my cheeks. “I—”

  “I love you, Hazel. And I’m sorry.”

  “I love you too.” I accepted the ring from him, joy exploding through me, pure and unadulterated, and a real smile parted my lips. I hadn’t smiled in weeks. Not properly.

  Damien lifted me in his arms, kissing every inch of my face. He didn’t care that I looked like hell, that I hadn’t put on makeup this morning, or that my sister was an absolute freak of nature.

  And I didn’t care that his father was the devil in human form, that he had pulled away so hard he had nearly split us in two. Because it all made sense. And this time, it was for real.

  Damien carried me up the stairs and unlocked the door for us. Inside, he sat me down on the sofa, kissing me again, softly but urgently, sending shivers down my spine.

  “That isn’t all,” he said, sitting next to me then drawing me into his lap. “I know you’re exhausted, Hazel. You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders for so long, I don’t know how the fuck you do it. You’re stronger than any person I’ve met, but you’ve got to rest sometime.”

  “My father—”

  “I’m going to pay for everything,” he said. “Everything. I want to help. I like your father, and I know there’s got to be some doctor out there who can either help him or put him at ease.”

  I choked on emotion, more tears coming now.

  Damien wiped them away and kissed my cheeks. “And I have something else for you,” he said and shifted a hand to his pocket. He drew out a set of keys. “These are the keys to McCutcheon’s Café. They’re yours. It’s yours.”

  “W–what?” I lost my breath. “What?”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s all yours. I’m sure you remember that I want to start my own business in hospitality. I’ve been making some calls, and if you’re successful with this, we can turn McCutcheon’s into a franchise.”

  “Are you… serious?”

  “Yes, Hazel.”

  “But I don’t have money. I don’t—I can’t—”

  “I have money. Lots of money,” he replied. “Give me a couple years, and we’ll be just as successful as Mortimer. Even more so.”

  “But he wanted to ruin you.”

  “Taken care of.”

  I could barely handle this. Everything I’d ever wanted had just… materialized. And all it had taken was opening up to a man I’d sworn I would never love. Who had broken my heart. Who had put it back together again.

  “Everything is going to be all right,” Damien said. “But I’ve got one condition for our engagement.”

  My heart did flips. Shit. Of course there was a catch.

  Damien let out a low, sexy chuckle and pinched my chin. “Fall for me.”

  And then he kissed me, and all the pain and fear and worry dissolved into glitter and dust.

  Epilogue

  Damien

  Two years later…

  The woman behind the counter had eyes like forever and curves that took my mind to nirvana. I walked up behind her and placed my hands on her hips, rubbing the soft cotton of her summery dress against her skin.

  “We’re about to open,” Hazel said, quietly, leaning into my touch. “Dad’s going to come by to try the quiche.”

  “It’s five to ten,” I replied, nipping the skin on my wife’s neck. “More than enough time for a quickie in the office.”

  “I believe, Mr. Woods, that is a health code violation of epic proportions.” She turned in my arms, tilting her chin and spearing me with a stare that promised so much more. “And I’m too pregnant to do anything standing up.”

  “There’s no such thing as too pregnant.”

  “I don’t think you can say that unless you’ve actually been pregnant,” she replied and tapped me on the nose. “It’s been thirty-eight and a half weeks, and if the baby doesn’t come out soon, I’m going to… I don’t even know how to finish that sentence. Just freak out. I’ll freak out.”

  She’d been uncomfortable for weeks. I kissed her cheek, gently. “You know, the doctor did say that sex might speed along the process.”

  “In that case, take me now,” she said.

  I kissed her, turning the sarcastic words into a deep, throaty moan. A knock at the glass front door of McCutcheon’s Café interrupted us. And, right on cue, Hazel’s father, Frank, had arrived. He was dressed snappily in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. He was bald from the chemo, but he was alive.

  He was officially in remission as of two months ago. The doctors had said he was a miracle case. That they couldn’t explain how he had come back from the brink, but I knew how.

  It was all Hazel. There was something about her love that fixed things that seemed irreparably damaged.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Looks like we’ll have to save this for later.”

  “Assuming I don’t go into labor before then,” Hazel replied, hopefully. She kissed me once, a promise that the ‘later’ would come, and I went to let her father into the café.

  He shook my hand, gave Haze a kiss, then sat down at one of the tables. “I’m ready to eat,” he said, grinning at her. “Where’s the quiche?”


  “You really should try the chicken pie,” I said. “Much better than the quiche.”

  “Sacrilege!” Hazel hissed. “That quiche is my father’s recipe. It’s perfect.”

  In no time, the café bustled with activity. Folks arrived for food, waitresses appeared from the kitchen to take orders, people laughed, and the day wore on. Hazel smiled from ear-to-ear, talking to people, ringing up orders, snacking when she had the chance, and giving her father the royal treatment.

  I spent most of my time between this café and the office, but I took time off when I needed to, and being here was like a vacation. Every moment with Hazel was like that, to be fair. We had done the impossible—or so it seemed. We’d created a family café that had taken the country by storm.

  There was a McCutcheon’s in every state, soon to be every city, and we were only growing bigger and better. It was all built around Hazel’s love for her father. And my love for her.

  Hazel came over and slipped an arm around my waist. “Are you OK?” she asked. “You’ve got a weird look on your face. Is it the baby shower?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know. Kara.”

  I’d forgotten about it, but we’d had a late baby shower a couple days earlier, and Hazel’s sister had tried to attend. Of course, I’d had her removed on Hazel’s request. Kara had no place in our lives—she’d chosen her path, moved to Mexico, and taken up with a wrestler—and whatever Hazel wanted, she got.

  “No way, gorgeous. I don’t care about that. Your sister made her bed. Wait, are you OK?”

  “About Kara?” Hazel sighed. “Yeah, I made my peace with what happened long ago. I’ve got everything I need now. You, the baby, Dad. The café.” She paused, her eyes glistening. “Sometimes dreams really do come true.”

  I looked down at my wife, soon to be the mother of my baby boy, safe in my arms and forever mine. A family that I’d never felt I’d had until now. That I’d dreamed of having.