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

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  My wife squints at him and asks in a stage-whisper, “Now, do I get to clap?”

  His big shoulders arch back when he laughs. “Yes, Angela. Now, you get to clap.”

  I help her to her feet and she explodes into applause. A chorus joins in from the audience. I catch her by the waist and press a quick kiss to her lips. “Don’t get too excited now,” I warn on a laugh as I caress the curve of her belly.

  “As if.” She giggles then takes a second to arrange the suit jacket of my uniform and the hat on my head. “So fucking handsome…” she muses low on her breath.

  I stride across the stage to where MacBride awaits me with an outstretched hand. We exchange a vigorous shake. His voice drops to a whisper when he leans in my ear. “I am so fucking proud of you, Benjamin. You’ve become a fine young man and a fine firefighter. Your father would be proud, too.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I mutter as he places the wooden case containing the medal in my hand.

  He whispers again. “I know that you weren’t given the captain position when I retired but the position will open up again next year. And I assure you, this time, you won’t be overlooked.”

  I draw in a breath and hold it. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  I turn my attention out over the crowd and my heart is filled, so full it could burst. My gaze moves over the faces of the people I hold so dear. My mother, Clyde, Madden and his sassy little girlfriend, Sophia with her husband and child, my parents-in-law, my coworkers from the station. Then, I let my eyes sweep over my sweet wife carrying my unborn son.

  Getting to this point wasn’t easy. I had to fight, I had to bleed, I literally had to run through the flames. But when I look at the life I have today, the love and success that surrounds me in every area, I know that it was worth every bruise and every burn.

  THE END.

  Ben and Angie’s Wedding Epilogue

  Angie

  "Make sure your pager is off." My mother's steely gaze pins me in the mirror as her sharp tone clips yet again at my poor eardrums. "I don't want that god-awful thing going off while you're walking down the aisle."

  This has been a long week. I deserve an award for lifetime achievement in patience at this point. "Mom--I've told you, many times--my pager is off. And it's in a drawer at home. So it won't disturb us even if it were to somehow magically turn on and start wailing like a coastal missile emergency alarm." Besides, all the staff at the hospital know today's my big day. They wouldn't dare interrupt...I think.

  Mom plucks invisible lint from my perfectly-sleek architectural chignon. "Watch the snark, young lady. You are my daughter. And I'm just trying to make sure it goes off without a hitch.”

  “I know what she's getting at. Just a few months ago, it was my sister Sophia's turn to walk down the aisle. She was wearing the dress. Her makeup was flawless. Her bridesmaids were glowing and ready for that jaunt to the altar. But her fiance never showed up and the day ended in humiliation for her.

  But that's not going to happen to me...right? Ben loves me and we've waited forever to get to this day.

  Still, there's a nagging voice at the back of my mind. What if he doesn't show up? What if he doesn't show up? Fuck!

  I swat my mother's hand away from my hair. "Stop. You're making me all jittery.”

  “She's been fussing and fidgeting over me all morning, her nervous energy buzzing in the air. Now, my nerves are raw, shredded. Even the chamomile tea isn't helping. I've had about four cups and if I have another, my bladder may burst halfway down the aisle.

  "You're insufferable," she grumbles as she stomps over to where Nonna Lucia is sitting in a corner of the hotel room, muttering prayers under her breath and twisting her rosary beads between “her fingers. She's convinced that we're all going to burn in eternal hellfire because we chose to have the ceremony at the hotel instead of the cathedral. Thank god Ben's a firefighter, I guess.

  The room is scented with pretty wildflowers and calming instrumentals pour in from the stereo in the corner. The giddy little flower girls run around the room, playing an innocent game of tag...It's my wedding day.

  I approach the mirror over the dressing table and with twitchy hands, I pick up a pearl bud earring and try to slip it into my ear piercing. Sounds simple enough but when you're this nervous, even that little task seems to require a university course and degree. An internship, too, maybe.

  What if he doesn't show up?

  Thankfully, I see Sophia's reflection approaching in the mirror. "Here. Let me help," she says softly, taking the jewel from my hand and easily sliding it on then securing it with the little silver earring nut. "There." Gripping me by the shoulders, she steps back and her warm gaze moves over me from head to toe. ”

  “Do I look okay?" I ask in a low voice as my stomach knots with fear.

  "Gorgeous," she tells me. "Ben is gonna cry like a baby when he sees you."

  That makes me laugh, loosening the tension in my throat just a little. "I hope not."

  Her eyes get misty as she looks at me and her fingers tighten on my shoulders. "It's not the same, y'know?"

  "What's not the same?"

  "This isn't going to turn out like my wedding day. Ben will be there. He wants to marry you. He's been waiting so long. Just trust that."

  I rest a hand over hers and pull in a long breath, letting her reassurance set in. Just trust that.

  There's a knock at the door and a clerk from the hotel staff sticks her head inside. "I'm just checking to see if you ladies need anything.”

  “I give her a smile. "Can you please let the groom and his party know that we're ready?"

  And I am. I've never been more ready.

  Ben

  I shouldn't have let Madden talk me into all those shots last night.

  I feel the ghost of Tequila bubbling in my belly and I sway a little on my feet. The whole wild-rager-the-night-before-the-wedding wasn't a great idea. But I was hell a' nervous, going crazy. Honestly, I just wanted to spend the night with my girl in my arms but the tradition that frowns upon the bride and groom seeing each other hours before the wedding was in full effect and my twin brother insisted on enforcing it. The guys from the fire station didn't have my back at all. My ears still ring with the echo of them shouting, "Shots! Shots! Shots!" as the poor cocktail waitress struggled to keep up with their drink requests.

  Now, here I am, at the altar, about to lose my guts into the nearest flower vase. I can't tell what's worse--my nerves or my hangover.

  “But I wouldn't miss this day for the world. I finally get to make Angie mine. Despite all the obstacles that have come between us and all the circumstances that have stood in our path, we found a way back to each other and today, we make it official. Once and forever.

  I look out over the crowd of well-wishers who showed up to extend their love and support to Angie and me. Our parents. Our siblings. My coworkers from the fire station. Doctors and nurses from the hospital. Our friends. And my chest fills right up to the brim. So happy. So in love.

  "We're about to begin." The pastor's deep voice calls out from beside me on the makeshift altar. The sound of a harp fills the room and my heart goes tight with anticipation. My brother gives me a subtle shot in the ribs as all necks crane toward the back of the room.

  “The double doors open and little flower girls enter, spritely sprinkling flowers along the carpeted path. They take their place at the front of the room as Sophia, my future sister-in-law, makes her way toward the altar, smiling from ear-to-ear.

  Excitement numbs my fingers as my Angie appears at the end of the aisle, beautiful and radiant and just a little bit afraid.

  God, she looks beautiful. In a satiny gown that hugs her shoulders and spreads out around her luscious hips, yards of lace trailing behind her.

  And I swear I see her shoulders heave with relief. Her eyes shine, speaking telepathically as she approaches, You're here.

  Of course I'm here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than standing here about t
o make this woman my wife. And all of a sudden, I'm perfectly sober and confident. In moments like these, when she's wavering, she needs me to be strong for her. I take that role very seriously.

  She's eager. I can see it in her glowing smile as she floats down the aisle. I clear my constricted throat and run a knuckle under my eye. I think I'm crying. Who fuckin' knew? I'm a tough guy, a firefighter, I run into burning buildings to save “lives. But this beautiful woman approaching me has the power to melt my hard shell without even uttering a word.

  Her father hands her off to me and though there's a hint of caution lingering at the back of the man's eyes, I see the pride there, too. He's entrusting me with his baby girl and I would never to anything to break that trust or to break her heart.

  She smiles at me and I smile at her. It's a promise. A promise we'll soon seal with our words in front of these witnesses.

  Angie says her vows, repeating zealously after the minister. But just as the man is preparing to read me my vows, a loud, pulsing beep fills the air. I look at Angie accusingly, tilting my head to the side. Come on, I mouth at her.

  I'm marrying an ER doctor. I'm used to her pager going off at inconvenient times. But this is our wedding day!

  She frowns, offended and mouths back, It's not mine.

  And then another beep comes through, slicing the air. And another. And another. And another.

  Now, half of our guests are patting their pockets and looking around embarrassedly as they check their pagers. Angie's boss, Nina, is the first to stand, whispering her apologies as she tiptoes out of the room with her shoulders up to her ears. Then, Dr. Elliot is headed for the door. And the guys from the fire station--Sawyer, Blaize, Mitchell.

  I throw a glance over my shoulder at Madden as he's scanning the message on his device. "Factory fire on Industrial Row. Risk of spreading to neighboring buildings," he whispers in my ear. I give him a sharp look and he huffs. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." His hand clamps down on my shoulder reassuringly.

  My tense body slackens with relief. But now, most of the chairs are empty. The first responders of Copper Heights have been called to save lives.

  "We need to diversify our social circle," Angie says and our remaining witnesses laugh. But despite her joking, I can tell that she's a little disappointed at the timing.

  So, I decide to do something special for her. I whisper into the minister's ear, letting him know that there's going to be a slight deviation in the ceremony's programming.

  I hold both of my bride's hands in mine and look her deep in those dark brown eyes.

  "My sweet, beautiful, perfect Gigi. I love you without hesitation, without reservations, without conditions. I promise to love you this way for the rest of my life. I promise to support you in your endeavours. To console you in your disappointments. To respect you in our differences. And if the need to defend you ever arises, trust that I'll kick some ass without a beat of hesitation." The crowd laughs. "I promise to be your home. To give you comfort and protection. To grow with you. To become a better man as you become a better woman. And even if every single person walks out of the room, know that I will be here. With you. For you. Beside you. Forever."

  And she melts. We get lost in each other's eyes, barely hearing the words uttered by the preacher. But when he pronounces us man and wife, I take my Angie's face in my hands and kiss her hard. So she'll know I mean it--I'd run through fire to give her her happily-ever-after.”

  Will Sadie find her Prince Charming?

  Thanks so much for reading Hot Boy. I hope that Ben and Angie set your Kindle on fire and warmed your heart!

  Remember Sadie, the Broken Cupcake’s fun-loving but delinquent employee from Bad Boy? Well, her story is next in the series and there’s a lot more to the girl than meets the eye. You’ll be cheering for her to find her prince charming. Flip the page to start reading Rich Boy.

  Rich Boy

  The Blue Collar Bachelor Series Book 5

  Rich Boy (The Blue Collar Bachelors Series – Book 5)

  Copyright © 2018 Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents appearing therein are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status of the various products referenced in this work.

  Created with Vellum

  About “Rich Boy”

  Ben Riggs says he loves me. He says he hasn't stopped thinking about me since he broke my heart and chased me out of town all those years ago...

  I say liar liar pants on fire.

  And boy, do those bright yellow, flame-resistant fireman pants look good on him. I'm aching to feel those big, rough hands clenching on my hips and to collect on the illicit promises burning in his dark blue eyes.

  Self-control goes up in flames every time he flashes that arrogant smile. So I give in—because a woman has needs. (Am I right, ladies?) He can have my body but my heart is off-limits. I've worked hard over the past few years to prove to myself that I can be successful without him in my life.

  But Ben says he won't stop until he wins me back—mind, body and heart. He says I'd better stop trying to resist him. He may be a fireman but I'm the one fighting like hell against the inferno of lust and nostalgia closing in on us.

  And it's a fight I can't afford to lose...

  Hot Boy is a steamy, laugh-out-loud second chance, firefighter romance set in small town Illinois. It is book 4 in the Blue Collar Bachelors series.

  Prologue

  Xavier

  Folkshire Palace, Ridgeland

  “…And by the way, your formal invitation to the annual Mating of the Brown Bottom Geese Ceremony has arrived, Your Highness. Isn’t that lovely news?”

  With my clammy fingers clenching anxiously around the warm crystal tumbler, I watch the approaching black SUV from the arched window of the tower. The vehicle travels over the historic drawbridge and through the palace’s massive iron gates, following the winding road toward the expansive cobblestone courtyard.

  “…If you require a companion for the event, I’ve just received a note from the office of Lady Yolanda relaying her interest in accompanying you again this year…”

  When the car rolls to a smooth halt, Harold, the head of my personal security team, exits the driver’s seat and opens the back door. He extends a hand to his passenger and the little old lady slides gingerly from the cushioned bench.

  “…Her letter does stipulate, however, that she’d need at least a month’s advance notice since the feathers for her headpiece would have to be flown in from Geneva and you know how overzealous our customs agents can be in their inspections…”

  At the sight of the newcomer, I feel a roiling pang in my gut. Beneath the glow of the hanging lanterns illuminating her shadowy figure, the old woman could easily be mistaken for my grandmother, the Queen. Tiny and wrinkled and slow-moving with a peach skirt suit and a full head of hair like a teased-out cotton ball.

  “…Lady Yolanda goes on to add that she’s an avid birdwatcher and, as always, she looks forward to seeing the mating geese this year…”

  The elderly woman grips Harold’s arm firmly as she makes a shaky ascent up to the imposing wood and iron double doors of the palace.

  “…She closes the letter by asking that I remind you just how much she loves a good cock...”

  I freeze.

  No—that’s not just a saucy punch line. This is my life.

  Fighting off a chuckle, I throw a pointed glance over my shoulder at Thomas, my fast-talking, slow-thinking personal secretary. Belatedly realizing what he just said, the bald-headed, bespectacled man clams up and his bulbous cheeks go as red as Snow White’s poisoned apple.

  He quickly drops Yolanda’s salacious proposition letter to the desk in front of him as if it’s on fire. He t
ries ineloquently to backpedal his words. “…Although I-I do believe that a male goose is called a ‘gander’, not a ‘c-cock’…b-but linguistics can be confusing for Lady Yolanda at times, Sir. A silly lass, she is."

  I blatantly roll my eyes.

  For the record, I’m intimately acquainted with how Yolanda feels about a good cock. My good cock, in particular. She’s shouted it from the top of her lungs on many a night, loud enough to deprive the entire south wing palace staff of their sleep. She isn’t the slightest bit confused about linguistics. She’s just a wild, unrepentant dirty-talking girl. And quite flexible, too, since we're on the topic.

  I don’t say that to Thomas, of course. He’d probably drop dead with mortification.

  Thinly-veiled innuendo from overzealous socialites is an occupational hazard I’ve been dealing with since my boarding school days, actually. I’ve long become acclimatized to it. When you’re standing second in the line of succession to the throne, women will go to great lengths in their efforts to claim the spot beside you. I find it mildly amusing at this point. Nothing more.