Sweet Renegade
by Andria Large
Copyright © 2014 by Andria Large.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or used in any manner whatsoever, via the Internet, electronic, or print, without the express written permission of the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information, or information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author: www.facebook.com/AndriaLargeAuthor
Edited by: Megan Hershenson
Cover Design by: Andria Large
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2014
Other Series by Andria Large:
The Beck Brothers Series:
Henry
Sebastian
Quinn
Christian
A Taboo Love Series:
Hey There, Delilah…
Unmasking Charlotte
Acknowledgements
To my husband and children
Thank you for all of your support and understanding. Eric, I don’t think I could have done this without your constant words of encouragement. I’m so glad I make you proud.
To my best friend and editor
I know that I drive you crazy with my apparent love of the past tense, but you love me anyway. Thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you and for giving me your bluntly honest opinions. I’m so lucky to have you not only as an editor but as the bestest friend a bitch like me could ask for!
To all my blogger friends
Thank you all for being so awesome and pimping me out whenever I ask!
Blurb
What do you mean you’ve never heard of Renegade? They are only the biggest boy band in the world!
Beau Kennedy
At twenty-three, I never thought that I would be where I am today. I live in a world of chaos, screaming fans, and temptations everywhere. There is only one thing that I truly want, but she’s constantly rejecting me. She thinks I’m too young and too immature; however, I will prove her wrong. I will show her that I can be everything she needs and wants in a man. If she will just give me a chance, I can show her how much she means to me. She has no idea how determined I can be or how hard I will fight to make her mine.
Lizette Parrish
I’m presented with an offer that is just too good to refuse. Beau Kennedy wants one month. One month of being his girlfriend so that he can prove to me that he can be what I need. If at the end of the month, I don’t feel like he is the right guy for me, then we end things, and he will never ask me out again. One month? I can do that, especially if it means he will leave me alone when it’s over. What I didn’t expect, though, is all of the things that he brought to the table and all of the things that we end up going through during our month together, inevitably brings us closer together.
Can I still leave him when the month is up? My mind says yes, but I’m not so sure my heart agrees.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Blurb
About the Author
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
*Beau*
I sit back in my chair, knees spread wide, my straw cowboy hat tilted back on my head so that I can have the best view possible of the gorgeous woman pacing in front of me as she talks. I am sitting in her office with my four best friends/band mates. For those of you who don’t know who I am, I am the youngest member of the world famous, multi-platinum record selling boy band called Renegade.
The woman I’m watching is Lizette Parrish, Renegade’s manager. She is going on five years now as our manager. We – Renegade - are going on ten years together, so she has been with us for half of our years in the spotlight, and is doing a fantastic job.
I’m having a really hard time listening to a word she is saying. I’m too busy watching the way her ass sways in her super short, super tight, suit skirt. Observing the way the muscles flex in her sexy toned legs as she paces in her five-inch heels. I’m also enjoying the way I keep getting little flashes of her cleavage and white lace bra through her blouse buttons whenever she turns or bends over. I clamp down on the coffee stirrer in my mouth to keep from groaning out loud. I shift in my seat, trying to get some relief for the boner in my jeans.
Jesus, her body is fine.
I have had a crush on her for five years. From the moment she walked in and took over as our manager, she has been the star of all my sexual fantasies. The only one who doesn’t know about my crush is Lizette. Okay, that’s a lie, she does know about it because I’ve asked her out a bunch of times. Every time I ask her out, though, she usually laughs, pats me on the cheek and says “You’re so cute, Beau,” like I’m a twelve year old boy who just asked my teacher out on a date. So, she obviously doesn’t take me seriously.
Lizette is seven years my senior at 30. I know what you are thinking, she’s awfully young to be a manager of a famous boy band, but what you need to know about her is that she is nothing if not ambitious. If she wants something, she will do whatever it takes to get it. She works hard and is the most focused and smartest person I have ever met. That is one of the things I like most about her. She’s independent; she does not and will never count on a man to take care of her.
She is definitely my kind of woman.
“Beau! Pay attention!” Lizette barks, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
I blink, tearing my gaze away from her chest and lift my eyes to her stern face. I pull the coffee stirrer that I’ve been chewing on out of my mouth and give her a rakish grin.
“Yes, ma’am?” I drawl, knowing that she hates it when I call her “ma’am.”
Lizette gives me a hard look. “I told you to stop calling me that,” she snips, her brows drawing together.
“I’m sorry, Lizzie, it’s a habit,” I reply, my shit-eating grin firmly in place.
“Don’t call me ‘Lizzie' either, Beau, I’m not a little girl,” she says tightly, smoothing her hands over her skirt in agitation.
I turn my smile into a flirtatious one as I make a show of raking my eyes slowly over her from head to toe. “No, Sugar, you are not,” I rumble.
Lizette rolls her eyes and shakes her head as a couple of the other guys snicker. “You are such a man,” she mutters before going back to talking about whatever she was talking about before.
I stick the coffee stirrer back into my mouth, smile still in place. Damn, I love when she gets riled up. She’s so sexy when she gets flustered. I cross my arms over my chest and watch her as she moves. Lizette is naturally a brunette, but she highlights it so it looks like a dark blonde. She wears it long, down past her shoulders, and layered nicely to frame her pretty, heart-shaped face. Her eyes are light green and are the first thing you see when you look at her, especially when she has smokey eye makeup on; it makes them stand out even more. She has a cute nose, high cheekbones, and pouty, sensual lips that make me want to kiss the shit out of her. I have yet to meet a woman, besides
my mother, that is more beautiful than Lizette.
I’m a total mama’s boy. Not in a creepy – I’m 40 years old and living in my mother’s basement – kind of way, but my mother is definitely the most important woman in my life. I love her to death and her opinion of me is very important. My mother, Regina Kennedy, is and has been a single mother of three children for fifteen years. My deadbeat father, Daniel Kennedy, decided that he didn’t want to be a father anymore and took off, leaving his wife with a three, six, and eight year old to fend for themselves. Fucker.
My mother sacrificed a lot to help me live me dream of becoming a singer. She would often drive me and my younger brother and sister up to New York from West Virginia so that I could go to auditions. The minute I joined Renegade and made some real money, I bought my mother a ranch where she could live her dream of breeding and raising horses. She still lives there, still breeds and raises horses, but her new passion is giving free riding lessons to kids whose parents can’t afford to pay for them. Regina Kennedy is an amazing woman in my eyes and I will do whatever I can to make her happy and proud of me.
“Beau, have you heard anything I’ve said?” Lizette huffs in annoyance.
I glance around at the other guys to find them all giving me expectant looks before I turn to look at her. “Sorry, Lizette, my mind is elsewhere,” I admit.
She shoves her hands on her hips. “What do I have to do to get you to listen? This is an important meeting, Beau,” she says with frustration clear in her tone.
I remove my hat, scrub a hand over my short brown hair, before replacing it back on my head. “I’m sorry. I promise I’m listening now.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve already missed everything, the meeting is over,” she informs me as she makes her way over to her desk.
I look around to see the rest of the guys getting to their feet. I stand and move toward Lizette’s desk as the other guys file out of the office. I plant my hands on her desk and lean forward slightly. I try to will my hard on away. I pull in a deep breath, taking in her delicious scent. I stifle a groan; that definitely does not help the stiffy situation. She is rummaging through the papers that are sitting on top of her desk, purposely ignoring me.
“Let me make it up to you, Lizette. I’ll take you out for a nice dinner and you can go over everything I’ve missed,” I offer, making my southern drawl a little more pronounced. I’ve found that women definitely have a thing for guys with southern accents.
Lizette lifts her light green eyes and pegs me with a “Get real,” look. “Stop asking me out, Beau, it’s not going to happen. For one, I don’t date my clients, and two, I don’t date younger guys.”
“I’ll stop askin’ when you give in and go out with me, and who the hell cares how old I am?”
She sighs, not meeting my gaze as she says, “I’ve known you since you were eighteen, and in my mind you are still that young immature boy. I’m sorry, Beau, but it’s never going to happen.”
“That’s bullshit, Lizette.” I snort, staring her down. I was not immature at 18, and I damn well am not immature now.
“You can’t even listen to me at a meeting about your career. Do you really expect me to think that you will listen to me if we went out to dinner? Please, I’m not stupid. I know what you want and you won’t get it from me, so go find one of your little groupies to go fuck,” she sneers before making a shooing motion with her hands, dismissing me from her sight.
I straighten up, shocked that that is what she thinks I want from her. Okay, so I do want that from her, but it’s not the only thing…shut up. I turn and start for the door, stopping right before I walk out. I turn back to find her with her head bowed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“If that was all I wanted from you, Sugar, I would have given up on askin’ you out a long time ago,” I say quietly before walking out of her office and shutting the door behind me.
I catch up with the rest of the guys outside in the parking lot. We have a two-week vacation before our short promo tour starts, so I’m heading out to my mother’s ranch right from here. I have a limo waiting for me all packed and ready to go to the airport. I stop in front of Roland, who is leaning against his Range Rover. Dean, Everett, and Ace are a few feet away talking quietly.
“You asked her out again, didn’t you?” Roland sighs but his hazel eyes are shimmering in amusement.
I smirk around the coffee stirrer still between my teeth. “She’ll give in eventually,” I reply.
Roland barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Man, you just don’t know when to give up.”
“I like her, Roland. No other woman has ever drawn me in like she does.” I sigh, shaking my own head because it boggles even me.
“You don’t even know what to do with a woman, let alone that one. She’s feisty, she will eat you alive.” Roland snorts.
I smile wide. “That’s what I’m hoping for.” Giving him a wink.
Roland rolls his eyes. “You are just asking for trouble. You know that, right?”
“I’m looking forward to it, my friend,” I say, busting out my shit-eatin’ grin again. “I’ll see y’all in two weeks.”
Roland smiles and nods before giving me a hug. I go over to Dean, Everett, and Ace and say goodbye before climbing into the back of my waiting limo to head for the airport. West Virginia, here I come.
*Lizette*
I stare at my closed office door. Damn Beau. He is such a pain in the ass sometimes. First, he sits through the whole meeting watching me like a lion watching its prey. I’m surprised that he didn’t lick his chops and growl at me. Second, he asks me out…again! Listen, I have had plenty of clients in the past ask me out, but once I’ve told them no, that was the end of it, they never asked again. Beau Kennedy, on the other hand, doesn’t know when to give up. He asks me out every couple of weeks. This has been going on for three years now. One would think that the man would give the hell up already. Nope, not Beau, he’s nothing if not persistent.
I have watched him turn from a cute but young teenage boy into a handsome, adult man over the past five years. There is no denying that he is all man now, there is not one ounce of that teenage boy’s body left. Beau could be a fitness model if he wanted to. He works hard to keep his body in the condition it’s in, all big hulking muscle. He’s tall at six feet, two inches, and is extremely gorgeous. His jaw is square and usually clean-shaven. I’ve only seen him a couple of times with scruff on his face, and I have to admit that it looks good on him…really good. He has a dimple on his chin that I’d like to stick my finger in. Bright blue eyes that are accentuated by dark lashes and eyebrows, and his medium brown hair is short in a military style cut with the sides buzzed short with some length up top.
The guy who put together and screwed over the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync also formed Renegade ten years ago. They were in desperate need of good management by the time I got a hold of them. All of the guys are from the east coast. The eldest is Roland Fitzgerald at 28; he’s the voice of reason, the wise one. Next is Dean Davenport at 26, the girls’ favorite, the only blonde haired, blue-eyed guy in the bunch. Then comes Ace Vaughn who is also 26. He is considered the bad boy of the group. Everett Stone is 24, the most quiet and reserved of the group. Beau Kennedy is the baby at 23. He has a pretty decent fan base himself because he is the youngest, funniest, and is super cute. Plus, he has that southern drawl, which makes girls stupid and does crazy things to my stomach.
The guys have just finished an album and it is set to drop in a couple of weeks, so I’m working with their publicist on organizing a small promotional tour. It will most likely include Good Morning America, Kelly and Michael, and The View; then all of the late night shows like Jimmy Kimmel, The Tonight show, and a bunch of radio stations across the country. Saturday Night Live also wants them as a musical guest and is tossing around the idea of them hosting, too. I have my work cut out for me for sure. After the promotional tour comes the actual worldwide album tour, which has been a bitch to get togethe
r and organized.
My day stretches on until ten o’clock that night. I’m completely exhausted by the time I walk out to my car to drive home. My days are usually long and mentally draining, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love my job, and I have worked damn hard to get where I am today.
I didn’t have the best upbringing, both of my parents are alcoholics; they never gave a shit about me, and still don’t. The only person who cares about me is my older brother, Dennis. He is the one who pushed me to be better than our parents, and made sure that I did my homework. He also protected me when our father went into one of his drunken rages. I owe my life to my brother.
I sigh when I finally make it to the front door of my luxurious Manhattan condo. As I walk in through my foyer, I drop my keys into the bowl on the console table and kick off my heels, leaving them under the same table that holds the key bowl. I can hear the TV on, which means that my brother, Dennis, is still awake. Not surprising really, he rarely sleeps anymore.
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