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

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  A loud burp comes barrelling out of Sophia and she slaps her napkin to her mouth, looking completely mortified. Mom casts a sharp glare her way. “The both of you have brought disgrace to this family!”

  “Oh, cut her some slack,” I mutter. “She’s pregnant.”

  When the venom in my mother’s eyes settles on me, I know it’s time to cut this evening short before things escalate any further.

  Stripping the blood pressure cuff off of my cousin’s arm, I rise slowly from the table. “Okay—so, I think we’ve had enough for one night.” I affectionately squeeze Franco’s shoulder and he gives me a wink in agreement. “I love you all very much…” I place a kiss on Nonna’s forehead, “…and I’d really, really love for us all to work on finding common ground…” I wrap my arms around dad’s shoulders and give him a squeeze, “…so, let’s try this again some other time…” I give my mother air-kisses to keep from compromising her carefully-applied makeup.

  Nobody says a word. My father stares off blankly across the room as he keeps on puffing his cigar. Mom’s got her arms folded tightly across her chest. At some point in the middle of the argument, Nonna Lucia pulled out her rosary beads. Now, she’s glaring daggers at me and muttering prayers under her breath.

  Tilting my head toward the door, I give Sophia the universal ‘let’s get the hell out of here’ signal. My sister’s entire body slackens and her eyes go wide with relief.

  We don’t wait for anyone’s assent. We hightail it out of the dining room, bustling through the foyer and out to the cobblestone circle driveway where my broken-down chariot awaits.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ben

  After Angie had that awful confrontation with her parents at dinner last night, she came to me. I spent the night holding her. She’s trying to be strong and pretend that their disapproval of our renewed relationship doesn’t bother her but I know that it’s got to.

  I hope that one day the Gallos will stop hating my guts and they’ll support my love for their daughter and hers for me. But I’m not holding my breath. The things I did all those years ago stained their vision of me. And now that I’ve got her back, I’m scared that they’ll find a way to fuck it up. I should tell her the truth but having her back is heaven and I just want to bask in it. The selfish asshole inside me refuses to fuck things up by coming clean.

  We’re happy. We’re working on rebuilding our relationship. Things are finally looking up.

  Besides, I’m no longer that stupid teenager who Gianni Gallo decided was no good for his daughter. I’m a different man now. And dredging up the past won’t help. Especially if it means that Angie will end up resenting her father…or me. She’s making real efforts to patch up the relationships with her parents and I don’t want to fuck that up…Or maybe I’m just hiding behind that as an excuse to keep from telling her the truth.

  Regardless, I haven't felt this good in a long time. Gigi has that effect on me. It's rare that you find a woman who's beautiful and smart plus confident, generous and outspoken. And she's lying in my bed, totally wiped out from the things I did to her body. I can't ask for anything more. You can't blame me for being chipper...

  Or for singing boy band tunes as I stand at the sink shaving before work.

  I glance just past my shoulder and see her reflection approaching in the mirror. Her hair is matted to her face and her eyes are heavy with sleep. Yet she's grinning as she dances half-heartedly into the bathroom with the blankets wrapped around her shoulders.

  "I remember that song." She giggles as she plops down on the edge of the bathtub.

  "You do?" I lean into the mirror and run the razor over my chin.

  She tilts her head to the side and watches me. "Of course I do. You serenaded me on my seventeenth birthday. Down at the pier, on the edge of the water."

  "And all the girls were jealous."

  "They kind of were." She titters at the memory. "I even remember the epic dance moves you put down that day." Shedding the blankets, she jumps to her feet. I watch her do a jazzy little spin and then break into a trio of enthusiastic jumping jacks before doing a creepy jerking robot thing.

  I’m intimately familiar with these particular dance moves. I choreographed them myself.

  Anybody else doing the dance would look absolutely ridiculous but, watching her romp around in her itty-bitty tank top and matching panties, those luscious curves jiggling with her every move, I’m sort of getting turned on.

  I grab her by the hips and pull her in front of me. “Here comes my favorite part,” I tell her. I rework the routine on the fly to take advantage of the situation. I reach in front of her and paw her breasts as I do a seductive body roll that ends in a series of sharp pelvis thrusts. My cock finds his home, nestled between the warm, fleshy globes of her ass. Now, if this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is.

  She throws her head back and laughs, which is exactly what I was going for. ”You’re so cheesy sometimes!”

  I jab her in the ribs with my finger. “You’re a hypocrite, you know that?”

  “How so?” She lifts her chin in challenge.

  “You may be joking about it now, but you know you loved being the focus of my attention even when all the girls were throwing themselves at me. You loved being the girlfriend of the front man of Mild Implosion.” I stare at her reflection as I finish my grooming routine.

  Her laughter slowly peters off. “It was fun…” Her joyful expression withers. “Until it wasn’t.”

  And just like that, the mood in the room shifts. She lowers herself onto the edge of the porcelain tub. Shit! I should have known it was too soon to start joking around about this stuff. We’re back together but the wounds are still ugly and raw.

  Abandoning my comb on the sink, I turn to her. “Hey…I’m losing you…”

  She offers up a weak smile. “It’s…it’s…It still hurts, y’know?”

  I sit down next to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I won’t ever be done telling you how sorry I am. I fucked up royally, Gigi. I regret hurting you everyday.”

  “You never did tell me what happened with that audition…” She forces her eyes to meet mine.

  I feel a spasm in my gut at the question. She has every right to be curious. After all, she believes I broke up with her in preparation for the big Hollywood audition of Boy Band Spotlight. The truth is, I never went to that damn audition. My whole life was in the shitter at that point. I didn’t give one fuck about the stupid audition. All I cared about was the fact that I’d pushed her away and told her to leave town when I didn’t mean it.

  As I’m sitting there, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to tell her, her phone beeps in the bedroom. Then, it beeps again. And again.

  With a reluctant sigh, she eases to her feet. “I have to get that. It might be the hospital.”

  I watch her pad into the bedroom and swipe the phone off of the dresser. She checks the screen and gasps.

  “What is it?” I rise to my feet and close the space between us. I don’t like the alarmed look on her face.

  Her eyes are as wide as disks when she looks at me. “I just got a text from Sophia’s best friend. She says it’s an emergency.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Angie

  As Ben pulls his car into the parking lot of the Broken Cupcake Bakery, the panicked tone of Reese's last three text messages is starting to make sense. He pilots the car into an empty space and I jump out, zipping up the front of my jacket as I step out into the cold.

  "Hey girls," I say as I step cautiously toward the sidewalk where an array of fashionable shoes, designer purses and classic jewels are artfully displayed on a wooden table parked in the snow. The early morning sun highlights the metallic accents and rich textures of the items.

  My sister looks up and greets me with a quick wave before turning her attention back to the wrinkly, toothless woman who is counting the change in the threadbare fanny pack cinched around her waist. "I'm not giving you mo
re than five dollars for that damn bag," the woman announces gruffly. "I saw one just like it at the thrift shop for three dollars."

  Sophia folds her arms over her belly and glares. "This is authentic Chanel. You're crazy if you think I'm going below seven dollars."

  The woman huffs and sweeps her hand around her face. “Hello—I’m crazy, period, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  I sidle up to where my sister’s friends, Reese and Nova, are huddled near the bakery's door, shivering in the cold. "Save us!" Nova mouths silently as I approach.

  "What the hell is going on here?" I whisper roughly with Sophia out of earshot.

  "She says she’s on a mission to sell off everything her ex-fiance ever bought her," Nova says, running a finger across her reddened nose. "Personally, I think it's a cry for help."

  Reese shakes her head wryly. "I think it's just the opposite, actually."

  I cast a glance back at my sister. She's still arguing with that homeless woman. Now, Ben has joined the fray. It seems like he’s trying to broker an agreement between the two.

  "How so?" I want to get an understanding of the situation before things escalate.

  "The reality's setting in,” Reese says sagely. “The baby's only a few weeks away and she's single, she's jobless. She's ready to take matters into her own hands. This impromptu swap meet is her way of doing that."

  My eyes peruse the items on the table again. "Wait—isn't that the baby monitor you bought her for her baby shower?" I ask Nova.

  "It is. But she pointed out that she doesn't need a baby monitor since she basically lives in a shoebox. No need for a monitor when the baby is less than ten feet away at all times." Nova shrugs.

  I bob my head in agreement. "Right, right..."

  “We’ve been trying to get through to her,” Reese says, “but at this point, she’s a bit frantic.”

  “She’s a lot frantic,” Nova offers as an amendment.

  Our conversation is interrupted by Sophia's loud exclamation. "Okay, okay, you have yourself a deal!" She throws up her hands in exasperation.

  I have to intervene to stop this madness. Now. Because my sister is currently handing over a a $4000 bag in exchange for a few crumpled up dollar bills and a shopping cart full of recyclable soda cans.

  I march over to Sophia’s table. "So, I'm gonna have to nullify this transaction." Forcing a smile, I intercept the purse on its voyage from Sophia's hands to the purchaser's.

  "Hey!" the homeless woman hisses. Ben jumps in to shield my sister and me when she flashes a set of stained teeth with displeasure.

  "Sorry, ma'am. No deal." With my hands on her shoulders, I steer my despondent sister through the doors of the Broken Cupcake. "Bargain Bin Pop-Up Shop à la Sophia is canceled until further notice."

  Heaving a loud sigh of relief, Reese grabs a box and starts packing up the items on the table. Nova and Ben stick around to help her.

  "Why'd you do that?" Sophia protests as I lead her to a set of couches in the corner of the bakery.

  "Hun, setting up an illegal flea market and selling off luxury items for pennies on the dollar is a flimsy, short-term fix. It isn't going to help your financial situation in the long-run."

  She flops back against the cushions and exhales heavily. "So what exactly am I supposed to do? What are my options, Angie? In case you haven’t noticed—" she uses her hand to motion at her belly. “—Tick-tock…”

  "Well, first off—stop making rash decisions. I know that the baby is almost here and you're scared because you don't have much money. But you're only digging the hole deeper. You need to sit down and come up with a sensible plan."

  "I did that,” she argues. “Selling off my stuff is part of the plan. The money earn, I’m going to invest it."

  I sit back and fold my arms across my chest. “Invest it? How?”

  She hangs her head, looking ashamed to say what’s on her mind. “I don’t want to sound silly but…I want to open up a daycare center.”

  I shouldn’t be judgmental but my eyebrow darts up my forehead before I have the chance to stop it. “A daycare center.”

  “I’ve always wanted to open a children’s center of some sort,” she tells me. “I’d planned on it being a non-profit, a place where underprivileged kids could come to play and learn and…Anyway, a non-profit was the plan but given the current state of my finances, I kinda sorta need a profit. Desperately.” She smiles somberly.

  “Yeah, kinda sorta…” I nod mirthfully as I roll the idea over in my head. It doesn’t sound crazy. At least not as crazy as selling off all her belongings in exchange for empty soda cans. “So, you wanna open a daycare?”

  “Yes,” she says resolutely.

  I don’t want to be discouraging but I’m not sure she’s thought this through. “If you’re saving up one dollar bills in the hopes of opening a daycare center, I hate to tell you, but all the kids in this town will be dumb teenagers, snorting household cleaning products and making other questionable life choices behind the gas station off of Cumber Street by the time you have enough money.”

  She throws her head back and laughs for brief moment. Her expression grows serious when she says, “Actually, I have one valuable item that’ll bring in a decent chunk of change.”

  My heart sinks when I realize what it is. “Soapy…”

  “I don’t have a choice, Angie.”

  “But it’s an heirloom. It was passed down from Josh’s great-grandmother. Don’t you want to save it for the baby?”

  One narrow shoulder comes up in a shrug. “That engagement ring is nothing but dead-weight. The baby would be much better served if I sold it and did something useful with the money.”

  I guess she has a point there. “But you realize that opening a business is a lot of work. Can you manage that while you’re pregnant?”

  “I know you’re gonna start lecturing me on the fact that I should take it easy and all that jazz but I’m running out of time. I spent months lying on Reese’s sofa, licking my wounds. It’s time for me to get proactive. So I’m gonna have to call in some favors. Pool all my resources and man power I can get my hands. I’m going to make this happen, Ang.”

  My body clenches at the familiar raspy voice that echoes from over my shoulder. “What is it you just said?”

  I turn and find Ben standing there, gripping a cardboard box overflowing with Sophia’s belongings.

  “If you need manpower,” he tells my sister, “you’re looking right at it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ben

  The look on my mom’s face when I walk into the kitchen, hand in hand with Angie?…Priceless.

  Both palms go up and cover her mouth to choke back her surprised gasp.

  “Hi Polly.” A broad smile covers Angie’s face as her fingers slip from mine. She goes over and wraps my mother in a hug.

  Mom is in tears within two seconds, flat. She and Angie sway side to side.

  “How come I don’t get welcomed like that when I come over by myself?” I tease as I edge my way past them to deposit the bottle of wine I brought on the counter.

  With happy tears spilling down her cheeks, my mother swipes a dismissive hand in my direction. “Oh my god, the two of you!” The pad of her finger moves along the rim of her eye to push back the wetness. “You can’t just spring this sort of thing on me and expect me to keep it together.” She laughs gleefully as she and Angie pull apart.

  Angie pokes fun at her. “Those are happy tears, right? I just want to make sure.”

  “Ecstatic tears,” Mom says. More sniffling. More laughter. “I’m about to melt into a pool of joy, right here on the kitchen floor.” Her gaze turns to me. “When did this happen?”

  I lift a shoulder nonchalantly, bringing a slice of fresh homemade bread to my lips. “A couple days ago.” I’m doing a pretty good job of downplaying my excitement.

  Angie comes up and tucks herself beside me. Instinctively, my arm comes around her. “A couple days ago? I thought you’d be
counting the hours!” She leans forward and steals a bite of my bread.

  “Ninety-eight hours,” I say then turn my wrist over to check my watch. “And twenty-three minutes…And forty-two seconds.” She giggles into my chest and I press a kiss to her scalp.

  A pot of something overboils on the stove and my mother hurries over to stir it. “Well, I’ll tell you that I’m ecstatic at this news. Tell me how it happened.”

  Angie looks into my face and I look into hers, nothing but joy pulsing between us. “It just happened,” I say. “We talked about things and we found common ground and now, here we are.”

  “We’re taking it slow,” Angie adds cautiously. I call bullshit. We both dove back into this thing, headfirst. The feelings between us are too strong, too powerful to tamp down. It’s not like we could just twist a dial and turn down the volume. Our passion for each other is loud and unapologetic and out of control.

  I bite back a smile. “Yes, we’re taking it slow and I’ll be patient but if you think you’re ever getting away from me again, you’re mistaken, little lady.” I grin, lifting the last bite of the bread to my lips.

  She intercepts, plucking it from my fingers and popping it into her mouth. “I’ve gotta say that I love the way that sounds,” she says as she chews.

  Mom tastes the sauce then throws a glance at me over her shoulder. “Crack open that bottle of wine. I need a glass to celebrate.”

  A big, broad body comes strolling down the hallway. “What are we celebrating?” Madden asks, walking into the room. When his gaze falls on Angie, a single bushy brow rises high on his forehead. “Well, hello there…”

  “Hey Madden.” Angie’s cheeks go pink as my brother turns his suggestive gaze on me.

  His hand comes up for a high five. “Finally, man!” he bellows as our palms connect. “Took you long enough to seal the deal.”