First Time Lucky

by Chance Carter

  His smile flattened, and he narrowed his eyes in mock contempt. “I’m sure I can find more speech-worthy occasions.”

  “Stick to web design. It works for you.”

  “It does suit me, doesn’t it?” he replied. “Even my parents are happy for me. I’m heading back to Sitka Valley next to visit them, and they’re acting like it’s a visit from the queen or something.”

  A tinge of pride colored Jake’s cheeks. I was glad to see him so happy. Not long after Dallas and Randall and I skipped town for New York, Jake threw himself into everything code. He soon founded a web design company, and it took off. He spent the last year working remotely from around the world, chasing his dreams on every continent.

  The lights flashed.

  “We better go in,” I said.

  “Let’s.” He looked up at the chandelier as we passed beneath it with a dreamy smile. “I still can’t believe it. Broadway, man. Broadway.”

  “I know.”

  We took our seats and chatted idly as we waited for the curtain to rise. Once it did, however, my attention was fixed. I spent the next two hours entranced, utterly mesmerized. I was the first on my feet when the cast did their bows. Then I grabbed Jake and pushed through the crowd back to the lobby and toward the stage doors.

  Backstage was a cacophony of laughter, yelling, and the constant popping of champagne bottles. The show had only just ended, but the after party was already in full swing. Then again, the production had a lot to celebrate. The run had been lauded by critics and audiences alike.

  I found Dallas laughing with the stage manager and presented her with the bouquet.

  “You were amazing, princess.”

  She took the flowers and performed a flourishing bow. “Thank you very much.” She turned to Jake. “I’m glad you could make it. It’s terrific to see you.”

  “You too!” Jake replied. “After a performance like that, I can’t wait to see what you do next. Have you got anything lined up?”

  Dallas’s face flushed and she looked at us, pert lips slipping up into a smile.

  “I don’t, actually,” she admitted. “Though that’s probably a good thing.”

  I wound an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, hungry for any form of contact.

  “Why’s that?” Jake asked.

  Dallas spun to look up at me, which was confusing since Jake was the one asking her questions. Her eyes sparkled like rays of sunlight skittering over the crests of ocean waves.

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  I let out a strangled cry of excitement and lifted her into my arms, spinning wildly. She laughed. I laughed. Jake wisely got out of the way. Roses flew everywhere.

  Words couldn’t describe the perfection of that moment. Up until then, I didn’t think I could get any happier. Surely I had reached the limit, and extending that limit was impossible.

  How many times was I going to let myself be surprised by the fact that, when it came to Dallas and me, impossible was just a word?

  Call it fate, call it destiny, call it the luck of the Irish if you will. Whatever the case, the time for dreaming had passed. Now was the time when we got to live.

  Bad Boy Daddy

  CHANCE CARTER

  Chapter 1

  Faith

  The first time I saw him, I hated his guts.

  He was the sexiest creature on God’s green earth, and he was all the things I would never have. He was cocky, arrogant, and confident, but in none of the ways I was used to with Wolf.

  He walked into the Los Lobos hangout like he owned the place. He was late for his appointment and for a brief moment, I wondered what he told the guards for them to let him past. I was the only one still in the bar, enjoying a rare moment to myself.

  “I’m looking for Wolf,” he said.

  I shrugged. “You’re late.”

  I was different in those days. I wasn’t happy with the hand life dealt me, and I took it out on whoever I could. I’m not proud of the way I was, but things were getting desperate for me and I was too afraid to admit I’d made a mistake. Wolf Staten was my mistake—a cruel, brutish mistake—a mistake I could never unmake.

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t trouble yourself,” he said, an arrogant smile on his lips.

  Was this jerk taunting me?

  The truth was, I was sick of Los Lobos and their smooth-talking, tattooed musclemen. The fact that this one had arms like Mark Wahlberg and a smile to match didn’t change that. He was a criminal, just like the others, and if he wanted to speak to Wolf, he could damn well show up on time like everyone else.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to jump to attention every time a guy like you walked in.”

  “You always this friendly to your potential partners?”

  “You’re not my potential anything,” I said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  I looked into his eyes. Something about his confidence bugged the crap out of me. I couldn’t say what. Usually when people came to Los Lobos, they were scared to death. This guy looked like he was on a morning stroll through the park.

  “Yes, I do,” I said pointedly.

  He held me in his gaze, then shrugged. “You might be surprised.”

  “Might I? I doubt it.”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  He was infuriating.

  “Forget it,” I said. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. Then forget what you forgot. You look like the kind of guy who could manage that.”

  He let out a laugh.

  My eyes glanced over his chiseled chest and torso, visible through his tight shirt. God, he was sexy.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re touchy?” he said.

  “I’ve got my reasons,” I said defensively.

  “I bet you do,” he said, looking around the bar.

  I didn’t know if he was agreeing with me or challenging me. I didn’t know how to read him. He was frank and direct, didn’t play games, and in the world I lived in, games were the only thing that mattered.

  “We could do this all day,” I said, “but I’m not in the mood for banter.”

  “Have it your way. You know where I can find him?”

  “Who?” I said, knowing full well who he meant. I was prolonging our interaction without even realizing it. Was I that lonely for real contact?

  “Wolf.”

  “I’m sorry, is there something about me that gives you the impression I’m his secretary?”

  “Jesus. What is it with you? Just tell me where he is.”

  “Fine. He’s gone. They all are. You missed them.”

  “Shit,” he said.

  I nodded. “So, you know, don’t let me keep you.”

  I’d become a bitch and I knew it. He knew it too, but he took it as a challenge. He was one of those guys who wanted what he couldn’t have.

  He looked at me and a smile crossed his face that drove me mad. He was so sexy I had to bite my lip. I won’t say what I really wanted to bite. It wasn’t every day I was alone with a guy like this. Wolf was too jealous to allow it. The way this guy looked at me made my heart speed up.

  “Girl, you’re lucky I don’t come over there and teach you some manners.”

  A mental image of him bending me over the bar and spanking my naked butt flashed before my eyes. It made my cheeks flush.

  He was charming as hell. He was my type too, sexy, the bad boy look, muscles, a raw attitude that exuded confidence. I wanted him to leave so I wouldn’t be reminded of all the things I couldn’t have.

  I already knew he was nothing like Wolf. This guy would be good to his girl. He’d treat her right. He wouldn’t hit her. I had experience in that department, and I could tell. The truth was, this guy was everything I’d given up forever by getting involved with Wolf, and it was torture to see it.

  I wanted him to turn around and walk out the door, but another part of me was desperate for him to stay.

  “Manners?” I sai
d.

  His grin stretched from ear to ear. “The manners your daddy should have taught you.”

  I couldn’t resist. “You wouldn’t have the nerve,” I said and, despite my intentions, gave him a sly smile.

  That got his attention. He looked at me again as if seeing me for the first time. His eyes drank me in from head to toe, staring at my ass and tits longer than was necessary.

  “Try me,” he said.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to get mixed up with a girl like me.”

  “Are you that dangerous?”

  “Let’s just say, if you messed with me, you’d be taking your life in your hands.”

  I don’t know what got me talking to him like that. It wasn’t like me to flirt with the lowlifes that did business with Los Lobos. I despised all of them. But everything about this guy was different. He had balls. In all the months I’d been with Wolf, this was the first time I’d met anyone who seemed to have the nerve to rival him.

  “Don’t you know?” he said, “Some things are worth risking your life for.”

  “Some things?”

  “Sure. Some things,” he said and looked down at my ass again as if assessing me, checking if I was one of those things worth taking a risk for. Cocky prick.

  The way he looked at me made me feel the need to prove myself. I realized I was sitting up straight in my seat, shoulders back, breasts pushed forward, the way my mother had always wanted me to sit when I was a kid. For the first time in months, I actually cared what someone thought of me.

  He melted my resistance. I struggled not to show it. I couldn’t let this go anywhere. As tempted as I was to flirt, I would be literally taking my life in my hands if I did.

  “Let’s you and me go for a walk,” he said.

  I laughed. “A walk?”

  He winked. God he was arrogant. I loved it.

  “What makes you think I want to go for a walk with you?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Shapely legs, tight ass, I bet you can walk the fuck out of those pumps.”

  I burst out laughing. “Walk the fuck out of my pumps?” I repeated out loud. I couldn’t believe he’d said it like that.

  “Girl, I can tell an assassin when I see one.”

  If Wolf ever overheard anything like this, there’d be hell to pay. He’d string me up and have his thugs beat the shit out of me. But he’d left for Vegas.

  “An assassin?”

  “An assassin of the heart.”

  That did it. I burst out laughing even louder than before. I laughed harder than I had in months. He was playing, being intentionally ridiculous, but it worked. If it hadn’t been for the threat of Wolf’s jealousy, I’d have gotten on the back of his bike and ridden with him wherever the hell he wanted. I’d always been a sucker for a cocky bad boy with the guts to let me know what he wanted from me.

  “I’ve never heard anyone use that line,” I laughed.

  He was smirking now. He knew he’d won me over. “It’s not a line.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  His eyes crawled over me, lingering on all the hotspots. He had some nerve. I had to give him that much. He knew how to walk into a room, spot what he wanted, and go for it.

  “Well, before you get carried away, you ought to know I’m Wolf’s girl.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “I’d just hate to see anything bad happen to you.”

  He took a seat at the bar next to me. It was a bold gesture given that every other seat in the place was empty.

  “Why would anything bad happen?” he said.

  “Well, you seem to be getting ideas.”

  “What sort of ideas?”

  I looked away. He was trying to goad me. “You know what I mean.”

  He looked right at me with those intense eyes. His jaw looked like it was cut from marble. I wanted to rub my hand against the shadow of his stubble, just to feel its roughness.

  “What if I told you I don’t care whose girl you are?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What if you got on my bike right now, and rode back with me to Rio Secco?”

  “Wolf would kill you,” I said.

  “Wolf can go fuck himself.”

  No one spoke that way about Wolf. Was this a test? Had Wolf sent this guy to see how I’d respond? I wouldn’t put it past him.

  “Who are you?” I said.

  “Listen, I’m not kidding. I can see you don’t like this shit hole. I don’t blame you. Your boyfriend’s scum. You’re too good for him. Los Lobos are heartless bastards. There’s something better, and it’s just a ride away.”

  “As easy as that?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “We’d go back to your place?”

  “Yes we would.”

  “What then?”

  “Then we’d fuck like rabbits.”

  “Charming,” I said, but I wasn’t as unaffected as I put on.

  My lip quivered with emotion that seemed to rise from nowhere. It was raw, a mixture of anger and sorrow. I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at the situation I was in, and the fact that I couldn’t take him up on his offer, no matter how right he was about my life. I wanted to cry but I held it in.

  “Don’t think, just do it,” he said. “We’ll be in California before Wolf even knows you’re missing.”

  “Just do it?”

  “I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man.”

  For a second I lost it. I slapped him across the face. That surprised him. It had seemingly come from nowhere. Where did he get off? Did he honestly think I’d throw myself at him for saying something like that? Even if I could? He was insane. I put force into that slap, really hit him hard. I knew it hurt.

  “What was that for?”

  “Don’t ever speak to me like that. I’m not perfect, but the least I deserve is respect. You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t I?” he said, trying to lighten the mood again, but I wasn’t having it.

  “Fuck you,” I said.

  I was being unfair. I was blaming him for all that was wrong in my life. Through his shirt I could see the tattoos inked into his skin. They were intricate and so sexy on his perfect chest. I prayed he couldn’t tell how attracted to him I was.

  “Look, I know Wolf. I know Los Lobos. I know how they treat their women.”

  “You don’t know shit about me.”

  “Everything doesn’t have to be the way Wolf says it is. Not everyone’s afraid of him and his cocksucker friends.”

  “They’re killers.”

  “They’re not the only killers.”

  “Oh, that’s supposed to make me feel better? Leave one criminal to get in bed with another?”

  “Now you’re talking,” he said.

  He made me so angry. This was my life, and he was treating me like some random pickup in a bar. I suppose to him I was.

  “And what then?” I said. “After you’re done with me? After you’ve had your way with me and I’ve given you everything you want? What the fuck then?”

  “Then we get married. Make babies. White picket fence.”

  I slapped him again, harder than the first time. It was so hard my hand stung. I took pleasure from the fact his cheek reddened.

  He shook his head. I’d angered him.

  I was wearing a cheap necklace, a heart pendant on a silver chain, and he grabbed it in his fist and yanked it. The chain snapped and he put it in his pocket. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? That he’d stolen my heart? He hadn’t stolen shit.

  “You’re cruel,” I said.

  “Maybe I am, but I meant every word I said to you.”

  “Give me my chain back.”

  “I will, some day far in the future, when you don’t even remember I have it.”

  I was going to cry, and I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t even know why. This guy was a primo asshole. He was toying with my emotions, pushing my buttons. He should have known better. He should have know
n I was trapped. You don’t walk up to a slave and ask them to go for a walk. It’s not fair.

  I stormed out of the bar. As soon as the door slammed, I burst into tears. Fuck him. How dare he play with me like that. Talk is cheap. Where I come from, you either give a girl what she needs, or you shut the fuck up.

  You don’t get to talk the talk and not do anything about it.

  He could keep the shitty chain. Twenty bucks would get me a new one.

  In the coming weeks, I forced myself to push him from my mind. And yet, nothing was the same after that.

  Days turned to weeks and then months, and Wolf treated me worse and worse.

  I didn’t even know the name of the jackass from the bar, but I couldn’t forget him. I couldn’t forget that there was someone out there with the balls to say, ‘Fuck Wolf Staten.’

  And if he could say it, why the hell couldn’t I?

  Chapter 2

  Jackson

  The day of my father’s funeral.

  I always knew it would be a violent death. What I hadn’t counted on was it having such an impact on me. It shook me up, brought me face to face with my own mortality. I was an only son, the last of the line, everything would end with me. That didn’t sit right.

  I was out on the highway, headed to the Los Lobos hangout. I hated meeting those guys. They were nasty, and they had no clue how to live—no clue how to be men. I’d seen the way they locked up their women, terrified them, turned them into slaves. There was no honor in that.

  Los Lobos was a syndicate of twelve grade-A assholes. They were killers, drug-runners, human-traffickers. All twelve deserved to be put in the ground. The fact that I was doing business with them made me sick to my stomach.

  I was buying information from them for the Brotherhood. That was my group. My family. Four grade-A assholes, but not like Los Lobos. We were different. We stole money, but we didn’t hurt people. That’s a subtle distinction to most people, but to us it was real.

  People think all criminals are the same. They’re not. Call me biased, but I loved the other members of the Brotherhood as if they were my real brothers. They were real men. Men you could trust, men who’d do what needed to be done when the chips were down.