by K. K. Allen
“As a matter of fact.” Anger bubbled inside me as I faced Gwen with a syrupy smile. “We shag all the time. Morning, noon, and night. He’s got a giant willy too. Huge.” I held my hands apart and watched my audience’s eyes bulge from their heads.
For the first time since I’d met Gwen, her poise faltered as she turned a shade that resembled the eggplant she was probably imagining. “That’s good, dear.” Gwen smiled weakly.
I bit back a laugh. “It was nice seeing you ladies again. It’s always a pleasure.” I curtsied, hoping Gwen could read through the gesture to see the “fuck you” clearly written beneath my niceties. Then I turned toward the front counter of the tearoom, where my mom was staring at me with her mouth hanging open.
The customer she’d been helping mumbled his quiet thanks, grabbed his hot tea from the counter, and turned toward the exit—toward me. One look at him and my steps slowed once more.
Dark shades covered his eyes like he’d stepped out of a limo onto a red carpet. He wore a black-and-gray zip-up hoodie over a plain white T-shirt and faded black jeans with large tears at the knees. Ink covered both his arms, which were visible below his pushed-up sleeves.
The man had a presence that made the entire room fade away, forcing my gaze to lock on him. And damn, I was transfixed.
He was heartrendingly gorgeous with just enough scruffy beard covering the lower half of his face that I could still see the sharp angles of his jaw, which sent blood pumping furiously through my veins. His wavy light-brown hair was tossed around his head like he’d forgotten to shower. It was like he knew he didn’t even need to try.
We were a few steps from crossing paths—so close I could breathe in his cool, crisp scent—when he looked at me. At least it felt like he looked at me. His shades were too dark to tell for sure, but the way the corner of his mouth tipped up with just a hint of a smile rattled my insides to my core.
It was unfair. He could see me, but I couldn’t see him. My disappointment was short-lived since, in the next second, he was out of sight—nearly out of mind. If it weren’t for the husky words that slipped from his throat after crossing my path, I would have already been on my way toward forgetting about him completely.
“That’s one lucky willy,” he said in a deep voice from behind me. “Happy shagging, love.”
His arrogance swirled through the air, thickening quickly and steadily, while embarrassment flooded my body and goose bumps rose beneath my skin. I dared a look over my shoulder to watch the strange man exit the tearoom. He carried a nonchalance in his walk. His tone was unmistakably British—the real accent, not the fake one Gwen and her friends liked to attempt.
I made a sound in the back of my throat to demonstrate the disgust I felt for the exchange I’d just had with Gwen. Then I turned toward my mom, who was eyeing me with a warning.
“Big plans tonight, huh?”
I let out a heavy sigh and shook my head while setting my elbows on the counter. “No, Mom.” I kept my voice quiet enough so only she could hear. “I just wanted to get Gwen off my back. I stopped by to pick up tea and scones so I can go back to the Hogues’ place—alone. I’m looking forward to a quiet night. No shagging, I promise.”
Her lips twitched with a threatening smile, then she turned to grab my things she’d already prepared. “Well, in that case, enjoy it. But—”
I cringed at the conversation I knew was about to follow. Here we go again.
“Getting back out there isn’t an entirely bad idea, sweetheart. You’ve been single for quite a while.”
With a pinch of my lips, I pushed my exasperation back down into my chest, where I would continue to let it brew. “Two months.” My words were quiet, measured. “That’s hardly a long time.”
“But you were with Dean for two years. The clock’s ticking.” She tapped her wrist as if that would drive her point home.
I reached over the counter and snatched the bag of scones and hot tea waiting for me. “You should be happy I got out of that relationship before it was too late.”
She tilted her head with a squint. “You never did tell me what happened between you two.”
Discomfort swarmed in the pit of my stomach. The fact that I’d dropped out of law school before fall semester classes had even started wasn’t something I’d told my parents yet. They suspected my heart had never been in my studies since I had been perfectly content staying on the slow track—acquiring credits while I worked full-time—but they maintained the belief that my life wouldn’t start until I had my business degree in hand. They were almost as bad as Dean when it came to my dreams of writing for a living.
“We were wrong for each other, plain and simple. I’m happy. Please be happy for me.”
“Of course, I’m always happy if you are. I’m just not convinced that’s the case. You’re almost thirty, Chelsea. I thought I’d have grandbabies by now.”
“Are you serious? I still have plenty of time.”
“But—”
“Please.” I emphasized the word with a laugh. “Stop it. You’ll get your grandbabies one day. I just need to find the right willy first.” I winked and turned from the counter, ready to flee and never return. I was so relieved to see that Gwen and her friends had left.
Once I made it to the door, I looked back with a final wave. “Oh, and tell Daddy I stopped by. Just—try to leave out the willy talk.”
With that, I stepped onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the Hogues’ home. Alone.
British Bachelor (Sneak Peek)
Chapter 2
I took the long way back to Doctor Simon and Bridget Hogue’s home on Blackstone Boulevard, sipping my tea and strolling by the park to watch the sunset before finally entering their private subdivision, lined by well-lit streetlamps that stood out against the darkening sky. I approached the half-acre property where an English-style brick manor home sat and veered right toward the wrought iron gate that led to the back of the house.
I punched the security code into the keypad and closed it behind me then followed the path toward the brightly lit private pool in the rear courtyard. For the past two months, I’d made a home of the small pool house, which was equipped like a small apartment with a bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a living area. Most of my time was spent in the Hogues’ main home with the kids, but during my off-hours, I was grateful for the small space I could call my own.
After closing the door behind me, I quickly traded my yoga attire for a tank top and cotton shorts, then strolled to my vintage record player—my pride and joy—and started up my new vinyl record by The 1975 that had been on repeat since it had come in the mail. Once the music was set, I tore into my takeout bag and pulled out the fresh scones, faux clotted cream, and jam. I was in pure heaven.
Entire days off at the Hogues’ manor was scarce. They were more than decent employers, always ensuring I took time off, but with their jobs at the hospital, it was rare for them to have a full day—let alone week—off together, which meant I was always starting or ending my shift at irregular hours. I planned to relish my week without responsibilities, with nothing but my muse churning inspiration in my mind.
When my belly was completely satisfied, I reached for my blue notebook and lay stomach-down on the couch. I took up my black pen that bookmarked the page I had last scribbled some thoughts on and settled for a moment, rereading what I’d written that morning. They were largely character-development notes about a book I’d already written six drafts of but couldn’t drum up the courage to let out of my clutches. I just kept picking it apart, chapter by chapter, until the story had evolved in ways I’d never imagined.
After making the decision to drop out of grad school to nanny full-time and write more often, not a single day had gone by in the past two months that I didn’t wonder if I’d made a horrible decision. I was giving up the safety of a great education and potentially a large-salaried job for what? An unexplored writing career? It felt crazy to think about, but I didn’t want
to spend my time regretting not following my dreams. I wanted to spend my time bringing them to life.
I’d only started to make some additional book notes when I grew heavy with exhaustion. My pen fell from my hand, and my eyes drifted closed. Darkness settled over me while The 1975 lulled me into deep relaxation. The calm didn’t last long.
My entire body startled awake at the sound of rock music blaring right outside my door. What the hell? I jerked to a sitting position, my heart thundering in my chest while I looked around. My head was still thick with fog from my sleepy state. My muscles ached from the awkward position I’d drifted off in. After a few seconds, I realized the music was coming from the Hogues’ patio speakers.
How can that be? The Hogues were long gone, and no one else was supposed to be here.
I shook away the fog in my brain and eased myself into a sitting position as a giant splash came from the pool right outside my window.
What the hell?
My heart jolted into my throat, and I shot forward onto my feet and into action. I snatched my phone off the coffee table and pulled up my employer’s phone number. When I got to the front window that looked out at the pool, I slowly pulled down the wooden blind and peeked through it. All I could see was water splashing as a figure I couldn’t make out swam across it.
My hands shook as I pushed the button to call Simon Hogue.
It might have been my safest bet to call 911, but it wasn’t like someone was breaking into the pool house. They were just… swimming.
I released the blind and threw my back against the wall, rationalizing all the possibilities while the phone rang and rang. Perhaps Simon and Bridget had cut their vacation short. Maybe they’d given a neighbor permission to use the pool.
Neither of those options seemed likely. The Hogues would have informed me if they’d given someone permission to enter, and they certainly would have warned me that they were cutting their trip short.
I swallowed at the other possibility, the one I desperately didn’t want to believe. What if it was a complete stranger? Someone who had decided to take a late-night dip in a random pool, thinking that no one was home. The last thought brought a shiver up my spine.
When Simon’s phone sent me to voicemail, I let out a frustrated groan. What options did I have? I could confront whoever was out there or flicker the lights to let them know someone was here. No, I couldn’t do any of that. I would have to call 911. Before I could begin to dial the emergency number, my phone’s screen lit up in my hands, and it started to vibrate, alerting me of a call coming through.
Pulling in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to steady my nerves. I was being ridiculous. “Hey, Simon,” I rushed. “There’s—”
“Hiya, Chelsea,” Simon started before I could even finish my sentence, seemingly unfazed by my panic. “How are you getting on? Good, I hope.”
My eyes turned to the front window still masked by blinds. “Let’s just say I’m glad you called. I know it’s late where you are, but—” I swallowed, willing my nerves to settle so Simon could understand me. “You wouldn’t happen to know who’s swimming laps in your pool at this hour, would you?”
Simon’s light chuckle sent a shot of relief through my veins. “That’s just Liam, my late best friend’s little brother.”
Relief rushed through me the moment Simon identified the late-night swimmer by name.
Simon continued on. “There was—uh—a bit of an emergency back home. He had to get away quite abruptly and asked to stay at our place. We were just heading to bed, and I saw his message that he arrived unexpectedly early. I was hoping to warn you before you—”
“Called the cops?” I finished with a roll of my eyes. I was glad my employer couldn’t see me, but a little warning would have been nice. “I’m glad you called me back. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Simon’s laughter boomed through the line. “We’ll be home next week, as planned. Liam will stay in the basement guest room of the main house, so he shouldn’t be a bother. He’ll surely keep to himself, but if you need anything, feel free to ring.”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up, annoyance replacing my relief. I’d chosen not to say anything to Simon about the rude way I had been woken up by his friend, but this Liam guy wasn’t going to get off the hook that easily.
I opened the door and stepped out onto the patio to find Liam swimming laps across the water. He reached the opposite end, flipped around, kicked off the wall, and swam toward me. I stepped around the patio table and chairs to walk toward the edge of the pool. I waited for him to come up for air—to introduce myself and to kindly ask that he turn down the volume. Simon had mentioned this Liam guy was someone’s little brother—but when my eyes registered the body that swam past the underwater pool lights, I realized I wasn’t dealing with anyone little at all. Simon’s friend’s little brother, Liam, was very much a man.
Liam hadn’t seen me, but I saw enough to know he was tall, lean, and sculpted. He cut through the water like an experienced swimmer, only popping his head up to sip the air before twisting back below the surface.
A knot twisted in my chest when my eyes skimmed the man’s taut muscles as he pushed against the water with one fluid stroke then another. Every ridge and line of his back, arms, shoulders, and calves perfectly defined his strength. He swam another two laps, keeping his pace and taking sips of air so effortlessly I questioned if he had gills for lungs.
The man was an athlete, a beast underwater, and for the second time that day, I found myself transfixed by a stranger.
I stepped back slowly, suddenly anxious about interrupting his intense workout, but on my next step backward, I failed to remember the round table and chairs I’d skirted around to get to the pool. The back of my leg hit a chair, making it scrape across the travertine. When I reached back to catch my fall, I could find nothing to grip.
I landed hard on my ass, my palms slamming into the surface behind me. I howled at the pain that shot up my wrist. Of course, that caught Liam’s attention. His head popped out from the water, and he swam toward the edge. He shot out of the pool so fast, I didn’t even have time to react.
“Who’s there?” he boomed like I was the one who’d just intruded on his peaceful night.
My defenses were on alert. I pushed my shoulders back as the pain in my wrist faded, and my chin tilted up as I prepared to let him have it. But then my eyes caught on the man’s face, now illuminated in the dim orange patio lighting. It only took a second to realize we’d met before.
He was shirtless, dripping wet, with tattoos fully covering both arms, and his eyes were free of the dark shades that had hid them earlier—but I knew he was the same arrogant man who had passed me at Spill the Tea.
“Well, hello again, love.” Liam flashed me a beaming smile, a wicked gleam in his beautiful green eyes. “Heading out for that proper shag I hope.”
Shit.
Are you ready for more British Bachelor? If so, make sure to add it to your Goodreads TBR and sign up to get a release alert when it’s live!
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Novels by K.K. Allen
British Bachelor
A steamy enemies-to-friends-to-lovers romantic comedy.
Coming January 24th!
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Up in the Treehouse
Haunted by the past, Chloe and Gavin are forced to come to terms with all that has transpired to find the peace they deserve. Except they can't seem to get near each other without combatting an intense emotional connection that brings them right back to where it all started . . . their childhood treehouse.
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Under the Bleachers
Fun and flirty Monica Stevens lives for food, fashion, and boys ... in that order. The last thing she wants to take seriously is dating. When a night of flirty banter with Seattle's hottest NFL quarterback turns passionate, her care-free life
could be at risk.
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Through the Lens
When Maggie moves to Seattle for a fresh start, she’s presented with an unavoidable obstacle—namely, the cocky chef with a talent for photography and getting under her skin. Can they learn to get along for the sake of the ones they love?
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Waterfall Effect
Lost in the shadows of a tragedy that stripped Aurora of everything she once loved, she's back in the small town of Balsam Grove, ready to face all she's kept locked away for seven years. Or so she thinks.
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Center of Gravity (Gravity, #1)
She was athleticism and grace, precision and passion, and she had a stage presence he couldn't tear my eyes from. He wanted her...on his team, in his bed. There was only one problem... He couldn't have both.
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Falling From Gravity (Gravity, #1.5)
If I hadn’t considered Amelia dangerous before, I certainly did now. She wasn’t anything like I had expected. Even after all these years—of living so close to her, of listening to her giggle with my sister in the bedroom next to mine—I hadn’t given much thought to my sister’s best friend.
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Defying Gravity (Gravity, #2)
The ball is her Amelia's court, but Tobias isn't below stealing--her power, her resolve, her heart... When he wants a second chance to reignite our connection, the answer is simple. They can't. Not unless they defy the rules their dreams were built on and risk everything.
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The Trouble With Gravity (Gravity #3)
When Sebastian makes Kai an offer she can't afford to refuse, she learns signing on will mean facing the tragedy she's worked so hard to shut out. He says she can trust him to keep her safe, but is her heart safe too?