The Book Boyfriend Series Box Set

by Carly Phillips

  With no more condoms left, they’d both collapsed on his bed, so spent and sated that they’d crashed from sheer physical exhaustion.

  His cock twitched with the beginnings of a morning erection as he recalled how bold and shameless she’d been with him. At least in that respect, when it came to what she wanted sexually, she’d been open and honest and held nothing back. And because of that unabashed trust with her body, he already knew what she liked best, how her body responded to certain touches and well-placed caresses, and what it took to make her scream his name when she came long and hard—and took him along for the intoxicating ride.

  Not by his choice, he’d played her game . . . no last names. No personal information exchanged. He’d let her have the whole sex-with-a-stranger fantasy, knowing he had the next morning to persuade her to see him again, and not just for a hookup but for a real, getting-to-know-you date.

  Ding . . . ding, ding. That noise came again, rousing him for a second time. What the fuck? He rolled to his back and forced his eyes open. The shades on the window had been drawn so the room was dark, which made it difficult to tell if it was still nighttime or morning. He glanced at the space beside him on the bed, where he’d last seen Katie sleeping, but the spot was empty. He wondered if she was already up, or if at some point she’d moved to her own bedroom.

  Ding.

  More clear-headed now, he realized that the beeping sounds were coming from his cell phone, alerting him to texts. He picked up the device, and the first thing he saw was that it was after ten in the morning. Jesus, he never slept in that late. Unlocking the phone, he squinted against the bright screen as he read the texts . . . all of which were from the Denver airport with updates on the weather, and from the airlines letting him know that flights would resume early that afternoon. His had been rescheduled for 3:20 p.m.

  Wanting to make sure that Katie was aware of the new time since they’d been on the same flight back home, he got out of bed and pulled on the jeans he’d left on the floor, then combed his fingers through his unruly hair as he walked into the adjoining living room. It was empty and quiet, and he headed to her bedroom. The door was already open, and when he glanced inside and saw that the bed was still neatly made and her suitcase was nowhere to be found, his stomach pitched with dread because he instinctively knew that she was gone.

  A handwritten note from her that he found on the dining table where he’d fucked her only hours ago confirmed that knowledge. Connor, you were exactly what I needed and more. Thank you for an incredible night. Your Valentine, Katie.

  No phone number. No contact information. Not even a goddamn last name to help him find her back in Chicago.

  Jesus, he’d been fucking ghosted. He swore out loud, his chest tightening in disappointment and frustration as he stalked back into his bedroom, determined to find her before they left Denver, because he knew she’d felt that connection between them that had been more than just physical lust. Hell, she was probably still on his flight out, and it was that bit of hope that kept him relatively calm as he took a shower, packed up his things, and checked out of the hotel.

  He returned to the airport terminal and headed straight to the new gate number where his plane would board at the designated time, once the runway was cleared of the snow that had fallen overnight, which hadn’t been as bad as the news had anticipated. Katie wasn’t there, but Connor was hours early for the flight, so he got something to eat, then sat down in the seated area and waited for her to arrive.

  The time passed like molasses as he checked out every blonde woman who walked by—none of whom were Katie—until the announcement was finally made over the intercom that it was time to board the plane to Chicago. When his seat section was called, he didn’t get in line. In fact, he waited until everyone else had taken their seats on the plane and there was no one left in the terminal but the desk clerks and him.

  “Sir, if you’re on this flight, you need to board the plane,” the woman at the ticket counter said to him. “They’ll be locking the doors in the next five minutes to get ready for takeoff.”

  He nodded reluctantly and finally walked onto the plane, his gaze scanning all the passengers’ faces as he made his way to his seat, to make sure he hadn’t missed seeing her, but she wasn’t on the flight. After stowing his duffel, he settled into his chair and buckled his seat belt, and as the plane taxied down the runway, he was forced to face the fact that Katie didn’t want to be found.

  Chapter Three

  Present day, three years and seven months later . . .

  “Mommy, when are we going to Leah’s? I want to give her the lollipop we bought for her.”

  Katie put the last of the vegetables she’d bought at the market into the crisper and glanced at her nearly three-year-old daughter as she shut the refrigerator door. “In a few more minutes, honey. I still have one more bag to empty, and then we’ll go. I promise.”

  Val let out an impatient sigh, because Katie had made it clear that she couldn’t have her lollipop until they’d given Leah hers. “Okay,” she said, her little legs swinging back and forth as she sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

  While Katie finished putting the rest of the groceries away, Val played with her favorite My Little Pony figurine, Pinkie Pie, on the table. Her little girl carried on an imaginary conversation with the toy, asking Pinkie if she wanted a lick of her lollipop, which was still sealed in its wrapper, and of course the pony had to give it a few loud, slurping licks.

  Katie tried not to laugh at the obnoxious sounds her daughter made and the stern way that Val told Pinkie not to be selfish and to leave some of the lollipop for her. Even though her daughter had been born prematurely at seven months old, by the time she’d turned two, she’d caught up to all the developmental milestones for her age bracket, and with her third birthday only a week away, she was actually ahead of where the pediatrician had predicted she’d be. She was talkative and bright, with an inquisitive nature and vivid imagination. And Katie couldn’t imagine her life without Val’s sweet innocence in it.

  “Okay, I’m done,” Katie announced once all the perishables had been taken care of. She only needed to deliver the gallon of milk and loaf of bread that she’d picked up for her neighbor and good friend, Avery, who was also Leah’s mother.

  “Yay!” Val squealed in excitement as she scooted off the chair, Pinkie Pie in one hand and the two lollipops in the other. “Let’s go, Mommy!”

  Val raced to the front room of the house, her dark brown braid bouncing off her back as she came to an abrupt halt in front of the screen door. She waited, shifting from sandal to sandal, her big blue eyes sparkling with anticipation for Katie to unlatch the lock. As soon as the door was open, Val bolted out to the front yard, then stopped at the sidewalk, just like Katie had taught her to do so she didn’t run into the street.

  They walked to the townhouse next to theirs, where Leah lived, and by the time Katie had reached their front porch, Val had already stood up on her tippy-toes to push the “ding-dong” button, as her daughter called it. The door flew open, with four-year-old Leah on the other side, who looked just like her mother, with auburn curls, freckles, and a cute button nose.

  Leah clapped her hands together happily. “Val! You’re here! I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting!”

  Avery came up behind her daughter and rolled her eyes. “You’d think they haven’t seen each other for weeks, instead of just hours,” she said in amusement.

  “I bwought you a lollipop!” Val said, thrusting it toward Leah while glancing back at Katie, her struggles pronouncing the letter “r” coming through. “Can we eat them now?”

  Katie exchanged a mom look with Avery, and after being given the silent okay by her friend, she nodded. “Yes. Just remember that you have to lick it until it’s gone, and don’t bite into it.”

  “We know,” the two little girls sing-songed at the same time, then ran off to Leah’s playroom.

  Katie stepped inside the house, indicating the
items in her hands. “And for you, the bread and milk you requested from the grocery store.”

  Avery took the heavy jug from Katie’s grasp and walked to the kitchen, where they could hear and see the girls playing through the video monitor set up on the wall. “Thank you. And for being such an awesome friend, you get the first piece of the coffee cake I just pulled out of the oven.”

  Katie inhaled the scent of cinnamon, sugar, and rich, buttery goodness. “God, it smells heavenly.”

  Avery put away the milk and set the bread on the counter. “Do you want coffee or iced tea to go with it?”

  “Coffee, but I’ll make it while you cut the coffee cake,” she said, moving to the instant brewer and pulling out her favorite French vanilla pod to put into the machine. “Would you like one, too?”

  “Yep. You know how I like it.”

  Yes, Katie did, because they’d shared many cups of coffee together over the years. After finding out that she was pregnant with Val, Katie had moved from her apartment in the city and purchased the small, affordable townhome in a more residential area. Avery, a stay-at-home mom, had already been living next door with her then infant daughter and handsome, doting husband, and the two of them had become immediate friends.

  After Val had been born prematurely, it had been Avery who’d been there for Katie, supporting her emotionally and helping with the baby. Three months later, when her maternity leave with the ad agency she’d been employed by as a graphic designer had come to an end and she’d had to return to work, Avery had become Val’s babysitter. But that childcare had only lasted six months, because Katie absolutely hated being away from her little girl for eight hours every day, and she never wanted Val to feel like she wasn’t there for her—like Katie’s parents had done. So, with the help of her boss at the ad agency, she’d started up a freelance business for graphic design, which enabled her to work from home. Best decision ever, as far as Katie was concerned, even if she had to budget carefully to make ends meet. Her daughter would always come first for her.

  With two steaming mugs of coffee, with a splash of cream in each, Katie carried them to the kitchen table. She sat down just as Avery served her a slice of the coffee cake, then took the seat next to Katie. She moaned as the first bite melted in her mouth.

  “I swear, you are the reason I can’t lose the last ten pounds of my baby weight,” Katie joked. “For over three years now, you’ve plied me with the most amazing cakes and cookies and sweets, and you know I can’t resist.”

  “What are you talking about?” Avery said, dismissing the weight issue with a wave of her hand. “You look great . . . and there’s a certain someone who’s noticed what a hot momma you are with your fantastic breasts and curves.”

  Katie frowned as she took a sip of her coffee, unable to imagine who Avery was referring to. “Do I want to know who you’re talking about?”

  “Oh, my God!” her friend exclaimed, her expression and tone filled with exasperation. “Is your vagina that far into hibernation that it hasn’t noticed or lusted after Garrett?”

  “You mean the gardener guy?” she asked incredulously.

  Avery huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “He’s a great-looking landscaper who owns his own business, yet insists on taking care of your lawn instead of sending one of his minions to do the menial work. Trust me, that man is interested in more than pruning the bushes around your front porch.”

  Katie coughed, nearly choking on the piece of cake she’d been swallowing. “How the hell would you know this?”

  A devious smile curved the corners of Avery’s mouth as she set her cup back down on the table. “Because when I went out to check the mail the other day when he was mowing your lawn, he ‘casually’ asked me about you. I told him you were a single mom, that there was no father in the picture, and that you’re way overdue to get laid.”

  “Avery!” Katie stared at her friend in horror.

  “Okay, I didn’t say the last part about you needing to get laid, even if it is the truth and you are way past due,” she said, putting Katie somewhat at ease that her gardener wasn’t privy to the lack of sex in her life. “But seriously, Katie, what would it hurt to go out on a date with him?”

  Katie immediately shook her head. “I’m just not interested right now.”

  She hadn’t gone out with a guy since Brice, and she didn’t count her night with her fantasy man, Connor, as a “date.” God, that seemed like forever ago, but she thought about him all the time . . . It was hard not to when her daughter’s beautiful blue eyes were like a mirror of her father’s.

  “You have to start somewhere,” Avery said, more softly now and with good intentions. “Don’t you want to get married someday? Have a husband and more kids?”

  Her stomach gave a pained twist. Now that was something she didn’t like to think about. She already knew from her parents’ experience that marriage wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and she never wanted to put one child through a custody battle and divorce, let alone a few more.

  She finished the last bite of her cake and set her fork on her plate. “For right now, I’m good. I swear.” She gave her friend a genuine smile. “I like it being just me and Val.”

  Much to Katie’s relief, Avery let it go. While Katie finished her coffee and checked on the girls through the monitor, her friend took the dishes to the sink and washed them. Val and Leah were busy having a tea party with her dolls and stuffed animals, so Katie reached for the Chicago Magazine on the table, which focused on the city’s politics, lifestyles, real estate, and culture. The glossy front cover featured the main spotlight for the month, “Chicago’s Hottest Properties.” Katie absently thumbed through the pages, checking out the advertisements like she always did. It gave her ideas for her graphic designs and kept her up to date on what kind of ads were most effective.

  “So, is everything all planned for Val’s birthday party next weekend?” Avery asked as she closed the dishwasher and dried her hands on a towel.

  “Yep. I’ve got about twelve kids coming from the Stepping Stone Academy, and their moms,” she said of the preschool where Val and Leah went for a few hours in the morning, for socialization and developing cognitive skills, and so Katie had time to work uninterrupted. “The cupcakes and food will be delivered in the morning, along with the pink, girly bounce house. I even found a My Little Pony piñata that she’s going to flip out over.”

  “Do you think she’ll want to hit it with a baseball bat to break it open?” Avery asked with a laugh.

  “She will as soon as she finds out there’s candy inside,” Katie said with a grin as she turned another page of the magazine, to the featured article, “Chicago’s Hottest Properties.”

  “So true,” Avery said as she put the rest of the coffee cake into a sealed container.

  Katie skimmed through the article on the left-hand-side of the page, which lauded the city’s most prominent real estate companies and builders—how they started out and why they were now multibillion-dollar businesses. It was an interesting piece, and once she was finished with the first page, her gaze skimmed over to the second one, where a new headline read, One hot property, and one of Chicago’s hottest bachelors!

  Beneath that caption was a picture of a guy standing next to a newly renovated home that he was obviously responsible for, located in a high-end neighborhood. Dressed in a dark blue T-shirt and faded jeans, he was leaning casually against a pillar, arms crossed over his muscular chest. She hadn’t even looked at the man’s face yet in the photo, but the tattoos on his arm riveted her gaze, not because of how intricate the ink was but how familiar those designs were, even three and a half years later.

  The oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate as she forced herself to lift her gaze to his features to verify what her heart already knew. Her stomach bottomed out when she stared at those gorgeous blue eyes that had been at first so kind with her, then so hot and seductive. The charming smile on his lips seemed directed intimately at her, flooding her mind with a
dozen different memories of their one night together before she’d snuck out of his room in the early hours of morning.

  After all this time, she’d found him.

  “Oh, my God.” Her throat was so constricted that the words came out like a croak.

  Avery strolled up beside her to see what had caught Katie’s attention, her gaze landing on the magazine spread and Connor. “Oh, my God is right,” Avery said a bit breathlessly. “What a freakin’ stud.”

  “That’s him,” Katie rasped again, knowing she probably wasn’t making any sense to her friend, but stringing more than two words together at the moment was proving to be difficult.

  Avery gave her a peculiar look, her mouth quirking in amusement. “What, that’s the guy you want to end your years of celibacy with?” she teased, then lowered her voice in deference to the girls in the next room. “Yeah, he’s definitely fuckable. I’d do him, too, if I wasn’t happily married.”

  Katie shook her head hard. “No,” she said, finally finding her voice. “That’s Connor.”

  It took her friend a few extra seconds to process who Katie meant, and her eyes widened comically when it all became clear. “Connor as in . . . ” Avery’s gaze slid to the monitor and the dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl oblivious to the adult conversation about her father. “Holy shit.”

  Avery sank into the chair next to her, looking as stunned as Katie felt as the two of them fell silent. Her friend was the one and only person she’d ever told about her impulsive one-night stand in Denver that had ended in an unexpected pregnancy.

  At the time, Katie had been beside herself because she literally had no information to contact Connor to let him know he was going to be a dad. Between the birth control implant in her arm and his condoms, never would she have believed a baby was possible. She’d even tried doing a Google search for “Connor Chicago Illinois,” the only three things she knew about him—other than the fact that he’d given her the best sex and orgasms of her life—and quickly realized that Connor could have been his first or last name, which doubled the listings and references the Internet had supplied.