“I want to marry you,” she said. “I just want to do the ceremony and finally be your wife. I told you when we first talked about the wedding that all the pomp and circumstance doesn’t matter to me. All that matters to me is us being married and having our family.”
“That’s what I want, too,” I told her. “So, let’s get this done. What else do you have to wear? We’ll do this our way.”
A few minutes later, I walked back out of the office into the hallway. Cole and Dean both came toward me, concerned looks on their faces. I told them the new plan, and we rushed to get changed. Our wedding started almost an hour late, but I didn’t care. Neither did any of the guests. They were all here to see exactly what they were getting: Merry and me walking down the aisle.
For our wedding, the aisle was flower petals sprinkled down the ground to lead toward the pond. We wanted to have our ceremony right there by the water, to commemorate the place where we both knew for the first time we were in love. I stood at the end of the aisle with Cole as our officiant and my brothers by my side. Olivia, Glenda, and a couple of Merry’s other friends came down the aisle and took their positions before everybody turned to look at the bride.
She was gorgeous. And I meant it with every fiber of my being. Her arm tucked in the crook of her brother’s elbow, holding a bouquet of her favorite sunflowers, she was captivating. Her jean shorts and flowy white top were an upgrade from any bridal gown she could have chosen. We smiled at each other as Brandon escorted her toward me. I shook his hand and thanked him before taking hers and guiding her the rest of the way to stand in front of Cole. There in my jeans and white button-down, with Rosie ready to carry the rings to us hanging from her collar, everything was perfect.
After the ceremony, everyone moved out into the field where we often ate lunch. Several grills and smokers were set up in the grass, and the nearest pavilion had tables laden with salad, corn on the cob, rolls, watermelon, coleslaw, and macaroni and cheese. There were even deviled eggs and cheese wafers from the box lunch shop Merry loved so much.
Away from the cooking meat and the tent set up with a dance floor and music was a small decorated area. Twinkling lights hung in the branches of Merry’s favorite tree. A table draped in white fabric and holding a glass vase of sunflowers was set beneath it, ready to accept gifts and cards from the guests. Another table set on the other side of the table had the guest book. When Merry picked it out, she told him she could see us ten years from now sitting down with the guest book on our anniversary and looking through the inscriptions to remember this day.
Everybody dove into the food, loading up plates and sitting down in the nearby pavilion. I saw my parents already in the tent, the only two people on the dance floor. Merry and I would have our own first dance later. Right now, we all just wanted to relax and enjoy. This wedding was everything I could have wanted. It was a family affair in every sense, and that was perfect. I was so grateful for my parents and the company they’d started so many years ago, the company they’d handed over to me and let me build into what I had today. Including being what brought Merry into my life.
We’d raise our son here. He’d learn about the bikes and how to take care of them. When he got older, maybe we’d train him to race. Then one day, I’d turn the company over to him.
A few hours into the party when the guests were distracted with drinking, dancing, and eating their way through the massive cake, I took Merry’s hand and brought her out to the pond. I wanted a few moments just with her. I brought her over to the bench and sat. I kissed her there, in the spot where we conceived our baby, and cuddled her against me, sighing as I listened to Bud and Rosie play and our family celebrate.
Forbidden Crush (Sample)
Check out one of my other novels. It’s part of the “Forbidden Lovers” series. This is book four of the series. All stories in the series are standalone and do not have to be read in order.
Enjoy this sample!
Prologue
Macy - One Year Ago
“Hey, beautiful,” he said.
There he was, gorgeous and looking right at me. Calling me beautiful.
Ignore the feelings. You are a grown-ass woman. Forget about that twinge of longing. It’s just leftover teen angst.
“Hi,” I said a little flatly.
“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking alone,” he said, a softness to the ends of his words that was almost a slur.
“I’m not drinking. I’m eating a taco salad,” I said.
“What’s in the glass then?”
“Cranberry juice.”
“You gotta have vodka with that,” he said, “Let me get you a refill, do this right. I’ll buy you a drink. A real one.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Well you’re lookin’ good,” he said.
Ugh, he’s drunk.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You are. You’re lookin’ real good!” he said with more enthusiasm.
He sat on the stool next to mine, set his empty highball glass down with a graceless clunk.
“I haven’t seen you around here,” he said. I tried not to laugh.
“I’m not new,” I said helpfully.
“Gimme a clue here. I feel like if you’re not new, I should snow you. I mean know you,” he said, “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“You could say that,” I said wryly.
I was starting to wish there was vodka in my juice. All I wanted was dinner and silence after a long day at work. I didn’t want to be hit on by my former crush, the guy I never would’ve been allowed to date anyway. And one who was clearly so drunk he didn’t even recognize me.
“If I’d seen you before, I’d know. I’m sure you’re new here. You’re just playing games.”
“Maybe I’ve been here all along but you never looked at me twice,” I suggested, my tone a little more biting than I intended.
“Nah. I’d never have ignored you. I’d like to get to know you better. Maybe you’re a bank customer. I’m in the executive suite now, but I started on the bottom rung. Maybe you used to come in to cash your paycheck, about ten years ago?”
“About ten years ago I was fifteen. I wouldn’t have been cashing paychecks. My babysitting customers always paid me in pizza and cash,” I said.
“Well holy shit, I’m old,” he said with a gust of breath that was probably supposed to be a chuckle. “You were in high school when I was finishing my MBA.”
“Apparently,” I said, waiting for it to click, waiting for him to recognize me.
“I’m Ryan,” he said.
“Yes,” I told him.
“And you are?”
“You taught me to ride a bike, Ryan. You’ve known me since I was born.”
“No, no. I’d have remembered you. Why you playin’ games with me sweetheart?”
“I’m not playing games Ryan. You do know me. I’m Macy Paxton.”
“Holy fuck. Macy? Damn, you look good,” he said, realization finally dawning. “Oh, shit. You’re not gonna tell your mom about this are you?”
“She’s not your kindergarten teacher anymore. She can’t send you to the principal’s office. Although she’d be very disappointed in you. She always considered you a member of the family. Since she was your mom’s best friend,” I prompted.
He shook his head. “Cute little tagalong Macy, all grown up. Do you still bake cookies? You used to make me the best cookies. You were so funny, always trying to get my attention…” he trailed off. “But I’m not supposed to buy you a drink. That was bad. I was gonna get your number. Oh that would be so bad. Forget you saw me,” he said.
“I will never mention this to anyone, on one condition. You take a cab home.”
“I’ll make that deal,” he said, grabbing my hand and shaking it heartily.
“You drink too much, Ryan,” I said. “You need to cut that shit out.”
“A man needs a drink or two to wind down after work. I got a very shy pressure job.”
>
“High pressure?”
“That’s what I said.”
“You said shy,” I said, “You can’t even talk. Look at what you almost did, trying to pick me up in a bar. Think about what you’re doing, and I know you care how it looks. You’ve always been about the image.” I said it grimly, thinking of his pageant queen ex-wife, the epitome of the trophy bride.
“No big deal. I’m gonna go see what that girl over there likes to drink.”
“What girl?” I said.
“Dark hair, curvy, red lipstick…” he pointed straight ahead.
“That’s a mirror,” I said. “You’re pointing at my reflection. Now, I’m getting on the rideshare app and booking a pickup for you. You might want to settle your tab.”
“That’s soooo sweet of you. You’re a good kid, Lacy,” he said, grinning.
“Macy,” I groaned. “It’s—you know, let’s just hope you don’t even remember this tomorrow. One of us should be spared the agony.”
I picked at the rest of my salad and watched as he paid for his drinks and got in the Uber. I was glad I could get him home safely, make sure he wasn’t on the roads in his condition. He had always looked out for me when I was a kid.
I’d just ignore the way my chest clenched because just once he’d noticed me and wanted to chat me up. I gave up and went to pay my bill, but Ryan had already paid it. It was a nice gesture, but I hoped we’d never ever speak of this night. Ever.
1
Macy - Present Day
“Go take a break. And by a break, I mean some ibuprofen out of my desk and put your feet up,” I told Connie. “I’ll cover the front counter for a while.”
“You’re the best,” she said. “These cramps are killing me.”
“I know. I’ve got this covered. The cupcakes have to cool before I frost them anyway.”
“Thanks, bestie,” she said, rubbing the small of her back, “let me know if there’s a rush.”
“Not a problem, babe,” I called to her.
I fussed with some cookies in the glass case and then fetched a footed cake stand to display a few muffins on. I arranged them, dusted them with powdered sugar and wiped off the counter. Just then, the bell jingled as a customer entered.
I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and I recognized him instantly. Handsome as sin, dark hair curling just a little at the edges, piercing dark eyes. The face I knew as well as the Justin Timberlake poster I’d had hanging in my teenage bedroom at the same time I was obsessed with Ryan Winters.
My stomach did a flip.
“Good morning,” I said brightly. “Welcome to Macy’s Treats. How can I help you?”
“Four dozen of your frosted sugar cookies, please. How have you been?” Ryan asked.
He looked so much better, so healthy, more muscular, his eyes clear.
“I’m good. Busy,” I said.
I took out a box and put on gloves, beginning to count cookies out.
“Does it matter which color? I have lavender and lemon frostings today.”
“Half and half,” he said. “They’re as pretty as ever. I never knew how you did it, getting that smooth as glass icing. So perfect.”
I tried not to blush and hated myself for it. “Thanks,” I said. “Just takes practice. So how have you been?”
“I’m fine. For the first time in a long time, actually. I feel good. Thanks for asking.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Here you go,” I said, presenting him with the box and affixing my round, turquoise Macy’s Treats sticker on the lid proudly.
“You used to draw those. I remember seeing them on your door when I was at your house when we were kids,” he said, a half-smile on his face.
“It was Macy’s Munchies back then. When I thought the concept of alliteration was cool,” I rolled my eyes at the memory.
“At least you had a plan. My plan was to get rich any way I could.”
“Well, you did,” I said wryly. “I mean, it looks like you’re at least on your way.”
“I am. And I’m working on a better plan. Money isn’t the only goal,” he said.
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m glad you’re doing so well,” I said, meaning it.
“Thank you. I’ve learned a lot.”
“Really? Share the wisdom,” I said playfully.
“Mostly I have learned that there are about a thousand ways I was being a selfish asshole. It wasn’t just the alcohol, although that was a big component. It was the carelessness in the way I behaved,” he said seriously. “Especially to the people I care about.”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “That’s great that you’ve faced it. I think most people couldn’t hold a mirror up to the way we act and admit the ways it’s wrong. That’s really great, Ryan.”
“I think you’re right about one thing there—most of us wouldn’t like what we saw when it came to soul searching. It was not a fun process,” he said. “So, now that I’ve brought the doom and gloom into your bakery, I’d like to take you out to lunch.”
“Uh,” I said, my brain shorting out on me. There he was, being a better person after putting in a lot of work to get there, and all I wanted to do was shove him out of my shop, lock the door behind him and flip the open sign to closed. He clearly didn’t have any memory of what had happened that night a year ago, but it was still fresh in my mind.
“Please,” he said.
I felt my mouth fall open. I’d never actually heard Ryan Winters say please. He was more a take what you want kind of guy. Something about that please, the humanity of it loosened the knot in my chest, and I found myself nodding.
“I could take a lunch break at one. I usually just grab a salad around the corner,” I said.
“I’ll be by a little before one to pick you up,” he said.
I rang up the total. He paid it and left a twenty in the tip jar. As he was walking out the door, big white bakery box balanced in one hand, he looked over his shoulder and gave me a smile that dazzled like stepping into the sun after too long indoors. I felt the loopy drop of my stomach, the crazy smile on my face that I couldn’t stop.
It was such a bad idea. The worst idea. I only had three hours to come up with a good excuse as to why I couldn’t go to lunch with him. There was no way I could go to lunch with him.
Because I insanely seemed too on-the-nose about it in the first place.
Because I had a crush on him since I was fifteen.
Because his smile that melted my panties right off.
Because he was way too old for me?
Because our moms were best friends and it was weird? Because my mom would literally pluck me bald-headed if she thought I looked at him twice?
Maybe I could fake an illness to keep from going. It was less embarrassing than the truth.
“Connie?” I called as I went back to frost the cupcakes.
“Yeah?” she said from my office.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll cover the register. You want me to pick us up anything for lunch later?” she said.
“You were eavesdropping,” I said flatly.
“I can’t help it that you’re loud,” she said, grinning, “So, this is the guy that didn’t recognize you when he hit on you that time?”
“God, I should never tell you anything.”
“You were upset. It slipped out. Anyway, this is Drunk Hottie?”
“Yeah that was him. Ryan Winters.”
“No wait, from the bank? The guy who sold the mansion that looked like something off The Bachelor and bought the riverfront building?”
“I’m not sure about any building. I heard he was selling the house a while back,” I said, feigning ignorance.
“Liar,” she joked and rolled her eyes.
Okay, so maybe I follow citywide gossip about Ryan Winters a little too closely. I shrugged.
“I peeked around the doorway. He’s got a nice ass. I didn’t get a good look at the rest of him. I bet you’
ll enjoy that lunch date,” she grinned.
“I’m not going. I just didn’t want to be rude. I’m going to call the bank and leave a message that I have a big order to fill and need to work through lunch,” I said.
“And if he shows up with takeout and insists you take a break to have a picnic?”
“Oh God. That’s worse. No, he wouldn’t do that. I’m sure. I’ll just…” I sank into a chair.
“You’ll just put on some mascara and go to lunch with the poor guy. Take pity on him.”
“Poor is not the word I’d use to describe him,” I said.
“I didn’t mean money-wise. He’s had a rough year from what I’ve heard. So give him a break. He’s probably trying to just prove to everyone who knows him that he’s turned over a new leaf or something,” Connie said.
“You sound weirdly like you believe him,” I said. “That’s so unlike you.”
“I know. It’s like I’m suddenly all optimistic. It’s the caffeine and ibuprofen talking. I’ll get over it and be myself as soon as the PMS from hell is over,” she said.
“Do you think it’s a mistake to go to lunch with him?” I said.
“When have you ever needed advice from anyone?” Connie countered.
“You’re right. I’m going to do what I want anyway,” I sighed. “I want to go with him, I’m just… having a fit of insecurity, I guess.”
“Insecurity? The same woman who started her own business from the ground up and proved everyone wrong who had said she was too young? You? Insecure?”
“I’m plenty insecure about non-work things.”
“Is this about your eyebrows?” Connie said, frowning.
“What about them?” I said, my voice going higher with a hint of panic.
“Nothing. If you like them all bushy like that, just promise me the carpet isn’t as overgrown…” she said, laughing.
“You are impossible. Also you know I have a policy about that,” I laughed.
“Yeah, you don’t even shave your legs until after the fourth date, so you won’t sleep with a guy too soon.”
Millionaire Boss: A Secret Baby Romance (Freeman Brothers Book 1) Page 22