The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  Mandy’s jaw drops in shock. “Bu-but I have some things I need to discuss with you…”

  I look her straight in the face. "Apparently, you don’t understand. Okay, let me rephrase that for you. I've never given less fucks in my life."

  Clinton jumps in front of me on the bike and I lock my arms around his waist. As we peel out of the parking lot and leave Ernie and Mandy in the dust, my man throws a hand into the air. “Middle fingers, bitches!”

  And then we ride off into the sunset. Poetic as fuck.

  Epilogue

  Clinton

  Dangerously-close to nine months later…

  "Are you okay?" I run the back of my hand over Vivian’s forehead. It's hot and slick with sweat. Her cheeks are flushed.

  She grips the wooden banister beside her and looks up at me with a forced grin. "I'm perfectly fine, Clint," she says through gritted teeth. "You don't have to ask every twelve seconds." She shifts all her weight to her left hip and cranes her neck toward the front of the room.

  Just then, the judge makes the loud declaration, "Paul and Pauline, I now pronounce you husband and wife!"

  “Woo-hoo!" Vivian hollers, pumping her fist in the air and hobbling an inch forward. She seems more relieved that the line is moving than genuinely overjoyed for the newlyweds ahead of us. She turns to me with a stage whisper. "We're third in line now. It'll be over soon."

  It'll be over soon. That's what she said. On her wedding day…That can’t be a good sign.

  I don’t know why she's doing this to herself. Even Angie—Sophia’s sister, the superstar doctor—advised Vivian to postpone this day. But she insists on getting married right now even though she's nine months pregnant. I've tried to convince her that we could just wait until the baby is born. Nobody would fault us. But my girl is traditional. And stubborn beyond persuasion. She wants this and she won't take 'wait' for an answer.

  She argues that we shouldn’t have waited until the last minute. We’ve known for eight months that we’d get to this point—the swollen ankles, the endless fatigue, the very big very fragile-looking belly—but to say that we’ve been busy over the last little while is an understatement.

  Viv helped me do a complete overhaul of the Rusty Razor. New décor, new client management software, new advertising campaign. She got her red, white and blue barber pole. And business is better than ever.

  The Broken Cupcake is doing amazingly well, too. They had to hire a bunch of new staff because both Vivian and Reese could go into labor at any minute. So, Sadie is the interim general manager, overseeing a group of five. God, help us all.

  Also, Viv and I have been actively involved in helping Lisa get on her feet. Sonny and Rachel stayed with us while Lisa spent time at a depression treatment and rehab center. She says that she wants to deal with her emotional issues before her baby comes so that, this time, she’ll be equipped to be the kind of mother that her children deserve. Viv and I promised to be there with her and the kids every step of the way.

  As for the Beckers, their dirty laundry hit the airwaves and they skipped town. Apparently, one of Norman’s political opponents had been digging around for dirt on him during the mayoral campaign and once they found Lisa’s story, there was nothing I could have done to stop it from coming out. But my fears were unfounded. Lisa, Sonny and Rachel weren’t persecuted or scorned. Instead, the town of Copper Heights embraced them with open arms, even amping up fundraising efforts to keep the women’s shelter open and help the women who’d fallen prey to that vile old man and his passive wife.

  I’m not used to miracles or happy endings but ever since Vivian walked into my life, my luck has changed. I’ve been living a charmed life. And now look at her—she’s a slice of heaven in her lacy white dress with its off the shoulder sleeves and its frilly hem. The slope of her round belly does nothing to detract from the curve of her tight ass. Her hair falls around her shoulders in thick, brown waves. And those eyes…

  Hot as fuck. No air conditioner necessary.

  "Jim and Jen, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

  I throw a glance over at the pew where our 'wedding party' is sitting, virtually melting in the August heat. Reese is holding fast to her belly and she looks like if she so much as sneezes a baby will come flying out. Leo has his arm around her shoulders, looking nervous and protective as ever.

  Thankfully, Angie is sitting next to Sophia in the crowd with a fancy designer purse brimming with medical equipment. Bless her heart.

  Charlie and Nova are here, too. Why are they always matching, though? Even Viv’s parents are present today. Her dad looks gravely concerned. I throw him a little shrug and he shakes his head in response.

  Vivian laughs and nudges me with her shoulder. "Would you two cut it out with the telepathic communication stuff? We're next in line."

  She claims to be annoyed by the 'bromance' I’ve developed with her father and her brother over the past few months. I don't buy it. I think she's thrilled that her family has welcomed me with open arms and—y'know what?—I’m thrilled, too. And now we're about to extend that family.

  A few days earlier than expected.

  Vivian's face contorts with pain and she hunches forward. She yelps as a river of liquid breaks free, splashing her white satin heels. She groans. "But we're next in line..."

  Immediately, Angie bursts into motion with her medical kit. I’m already crouched down in front of Viv. “Okay, enough of this.” I tried to humor her but I draw the line at watching her give birth on the cracked marble flooring of the county courthouse. She doesn’t need to have a marriage certificate in hand before the baby gets here. Call me a monster.

  I scoop her up in my arms and stomp toward the exit. The stunned crowd parts to make way for us. “Comin’ through. Lady in labor, comin’ through.”

  The next few hours whizz by in a blur. Vivian is rushed to the hospital and pushes that baby out like an OG. And it's not long before I'm standing over her as she holds Clinton Alvarez, Jr. in her arms. She looks up at me and giggles as she strokes our baby’s cheek.

  "What?" I ask as I massage her shoulders.

  "I half-thought he'd pop out covered in tattoos."

  I roll my eyes as I climb into bed and snuggle them close. “I half-thought the judge at the courthouse would be the one to cut his umbilical cord.”

  Laughing, she glances over at her dirty wedding dress, hanging by one arm on a hook by the door. “I was really adamant about getting married before the baby showed up, huh?”

  I chuckle, sarcastically. “He had other plans. Do you think you’ll survive?” I kiss his soft, little head.

  “I’ll survive,” she says quietly.

  I press my lips to her matted hair. “Sorry you didn't get to have your special wedding day before the baby came. I know you wanted us to be a family by then.”

  She watches me so earnestly. “This? This is family, Clint. You, me and our baby. I see that now that I'm staring down at our innocent little angel. The marriage certificate is extra. I love you so much.”

  Her words fill my heart with a joy that I’ll never be able to explain. “I love you, too.” We’re quiet for a while but I’m uneasy. There’s something I’m dying to share with her. “I want to read you the vows I was going to recite today at the courthouse…”

  She looks at me and smiles softly. “Yeah? I’d love that, honey.”

  I’ve got to say that I’m nervous as I pull my notes out of the pocket of my pants. I hold the crumpled sheet of paper in my hand but I don't need it because they're words I've repeated a thousand times in my head over the past few months.

  “When I met her, Vivian Hartley gave me nothing. Every smile was earned. Every kiss, I fought for. And she was worth the fight, because now she's given me the greatest gift. A family of my own. A place to call home. And that's something I'll wake up and fight for every morning for the rest of my life.”

  She’s crying, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ll be fighting for us right alongside
you, Clint. Every step of the way.”

  Clinton and Vivian’s Wedding Epilogue

  Vivian

  “Honey, arch that spine and stick those tits up. Seduce the camera. None of that coy stuff."

  I'm doing my best to block Cleo out. To suck my stomach in, smile with my eyes and focus on the bright flash that lights up the dim room each time Nova's shutter pops. But it's getting really difficult with my overbearing realtor-turned-art-director barking orders at me like Miss Jay from America's Next Top Model every few seconds.

  I blink and now, Cleo's standing at the foot of the bed, shimmying out of her pencil skirt and undoing the buttons at the front of her silk blouse. "Clinton's about to buy the cow, Vivian. Let him know the milk is full-fat and creamy!" She whips her shirt open to reveal her super-huge boobs spilling over the top of her lacy red bra. She gives my ankle a little push out of the way. "Move over. I'll show you how it's done."

  Okay, that's it.

  “I fall back onto my haunches and yank the lily-white sheets up to cover my chest. "I'm trying to be a good sport about this, but I draw the line at being called a fat cow while I'm on all-fours on a bed of red roses wearing nothing but a few scraps of strategically-placed white lace." I shoot daggers at her.

  A snicker bursts free from the corner of the room and I glance up to find my sister hiding her face behind her oversized coffee mug but laughter dances in her eyes, giving her away completely.

  I'm gonna kill her.

  She's the one who got me into this mess in the first place. She and Nova. I should have known better than to let the two of them talk me into this bridal boudoir photo shoot. It's just that I've been feeling a little insecure about my body since I gave birth.

  Things aren't as 'elastic' as I'd hoped. My tummy didn't snap back into place and some other things have been feeling pretty loose, too...if you know what I mean. It's all left me wondering if Clinton still feels the same as he did when I was pre-stretchmarks and paunch-free.

  When I (very reluctantly) voiced those opinions to Reese, she was quick to involve Nova. And my new sister-in-law was all too eager to whip out her old Nikon and set up a sexy boudoir shoot for me. It's supposed to be empowering for me. It's supposed to renew my confidence in my figure and the photos are supposed to make a sultry wedding gift for Clint. But right now, I'm so far outside my comfort zone that I feel like a customs and immigration officer is about to pop out from under the bed and ask to see my Nexus card.

  Nova drops her hold on the camera and the thing hangs around her neck from the lanyard strap. She hisses angrily in Cleo's direction. "Mom! Out! Now!"

  "But, Nova—"

  “No, no, no!”

  "I’m only speaking in metaphors, honey!" She turns to me. “You are so not a cow, Vivian. Honestly.”

  She makes another attempt to climb into bed. Nova intercepts her. "Mom, no. Vivian’s husband-to-be does not need to see you in your negligee. And neither do I, frankly.”

  “Cleo's brows furrow defensively and she folds her arms over her chest. "Hey, I was just trying to help." She grabs her purse from an armchair sitting in the corner of the room. She marches for the door. "You little girls could use some tips from a woman who's been married a few times."

  Um, I think not.

  Y'see, Clinton and I are gonna last forever. There's no 'if', 'and' or 'but' about it. I love the man. He's changed my life in the most spectacular way and his love has brought me so much joy. He's taught me to release control and enjoy life, to get messy, to get loud, to live authentically. He's taught me to embrace my imperfections. He even taught me that if I tilt my head to just the right angle and squint one eye a little bit, maybe something I considered a flaw (ahem, gray pubes, anyone?) might not actually be that bad after all. And most importantly, he gave me a baby, a gorgeous little boy who embodies the best of us both.

  Sure, Uptight Vivian rears her ugly head every now and then, but Clint has taught me to be secure in myself and in his love for me.

  I love the man. And even though I think that Cleo is generally crazier than a flaming bag of fire ants, she's right about one thing. I want these photos to be sexy for my man.

  I reprise my position on the bed but this time, I just let it all hang. My saggy gut, my jiggly thighs, my milk-inflated boobs. I know that he loves every inch of it. I look up at Nova with a grin. "Let's do this, girl. I want my future hubby to know that this milk ain't drying up any time soon. It's as creamy and luscious as the day he met this cow."

  Reese gags in the back of her throat. "Those may be the most troubling words that have ever left your mouth.”

  Nova laughs. "Yeah, thanks for the vivid imagery. Not enough bleach in the world to clean it from my mind."

  Rolling my eyes, I wrap a white feather boa around my shoulders and shimmy my bum. I'm camera-ready. "Say whatever you want. Clinton's opinion is the only one that counts.”

  Clinton

  Being in church has always made me feel a little bit prickly under the skin. And on my wedding day, it's no exception.

  Cruz leans close to me with furrowed brows and whispers. "Dude, if you don't stop scratching yourself, I'm gonna be forced to step up when the priest asks if anyone objects to this marriage."

  My head snaps in his direction and he's laughing. Asshole. "You wouldn't dare..." I snarl in a threatening voice. Some best man this guy is. I knew I should have picked Lisa. I look over in her direction and she waves, sporting a huge smile.

  Cruz covers his smirk with his fist. "Relax, would you? You're marrying the mother of your child today, the love of your life. It's gonna be all right. Stop scratching."

  Logically, I already know all the things he's telling me but I feel anxious, excited, afraid, nervous as hell. I glance out into the congregation and I see my son sitting in his uncle Charlie's lap. Viv's mother is fussing over him, pinching his chubby cheeks and tickling his chin. Nova and Sophia are busy taking pictures of the scene with their phones. They look so happy. A family. Love. Love. Love. Charlie looks up at me and throws me a thumbs up. Damn—I'm part of the family, too.

  This isn't the kind of ending I was expecting when I showed up in this town. A beautiful woman gave me a beautiful child and today, she's gonna give me her heart. And in return, I want to give her everything. The whole wide world.

  Just as soon as she brings her fine ass down this aisle and I slip that ring onto her finger.

  “When the sound of the organ fills the church, everyone stands to their feet and Vivian appears at the end of the aisle, gripping her father's arm.

  My heart rate picks up and I feel a slight tremor in my hand. She looks like a fairytale princess in a blindingly white dress, lace covering her arms, satin cinching her waist and a delicate veil over her face. Reese walks ahead of her with Sonny and Rachel and Brenton and a band of little children who seem ready to get into mischief. But my eyes stay on my beautiful, blushing bride.

  Her smile is so wide, from ear to ear, and when she reaches up and chases a tear away from the corner of her eye, I feel my eyes grow heavy, too.

  Our relationship flashes before my mind. The first time we met, we ended up arguing in the parking lot. The first time we kissed, she had just thrown a handful of berries at me. The first time we fucked, the woman turned me inside out without even realizing it. And I've fallen deeper and deeper for her every day since.

  We stand at the altar together. I watch as she repeats her vows after the pastor. There's so much love in her dark eyes. It makes my knees weak. It guts me. I used to think that I was badass, a tough guy but I'm putty in this woman's hands.

  The pastor speaks and I hold my breath. "If anyone knows of a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

  I shoot a death glare in Cruz's direction and he nearly chokes on a chuckle. When I turn back to Vivian, she's watching me with a cocked brow. "Can we keep it movin'?" I whisper to the pastor out the side of my mouth. It comes out louder than expected and
the whole church laughs.

  I don’t deserve this angel and we all know it. I’m a thief. This is a robbery. And I’m making out like a bandit with this perfect woman’s heart in my hands.

  And by the time the preacher pronounces us husband and wife, I'm ripping Viv's veil off of her face, threading my arms across her back and pressing her to me. With a growl, I mold my mouth to hers and kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.

  This moment is second to none.

  Vivian

  I trudge down the hall with the baby hitched on one hip and the diaper bag slung from my other shoulder. "Clint? Clint? We're home."

  I poke my head into the living room. He's not there.

  The kitchen? Not there.

  The bathroom? Not there, either.

  As I approach the far end of the hallway, I hear the faint sound of hammering coming from our bedroom. When I burst through the door, the room is in a state of disarray. The bed is pushed aside. The sheets and pillows are scattered about the mattress. The dresser is covered with carpentry tools. Clint is standing on that ladder where we made such fond memories at the beginning of our relationship. He's got a pencil tucked between his teeth as he straightens a massive, ornate gold picture frame on the wall.

  I gape in horror at the huge picture of myself on all fours like a cat taking a lazy stretch in the sun on a hot summer afternoon. A carefully-placed white feather covers the cleft of my ass and a frilly white garter belt cinches my thigh. I’m not wearing much else. My face is laying on a soft white pillow and a contented smile plays on my lips.