Long and Hard: A Bad Boy Box Set

by Lulu Pratt

  For a second my heart stops, and time completely slows down. Everything around me is happening in slow motion and my eyes fill with tears. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or if everybody else sees what I’m witnessing, so I turn around to check. My father has his arm wrapped around my mom as she cradles Jacob in her arms, while Rachel gives me a thumbs up as she points her camera in my face.

  The room has gone silent and suddenly all eyes are on me. Asher coughs a couple of times as I whip my head around to face him.

  “This journey with you has been an exciting one since the first day we met. We’ve shared so many wonderful moments together, and I want to keep sharing moments with you by my side as my wife. You’ve been everything I could hope for — a generous and loving partner, a wonderful mother to our son, and an ambitious and beautiful woman on your own. I don’t deserve you, Jade, I never have. But I’ve always loved and adored you and I never want that to change. Jade Sinclair, will you marry me?”

  He pops open the box to reveal a diamond so large I’ll need to do finger exercises just to wear it.

  “Yes,” I say, my voice laced with emotion.

  Asher smiles and slips the ring on my finger, and I all but tackle him to the ground, smothering him with kisses. I’m overwhelmed by the wave of emotions taking over my body, and it takes me a few seconds to remember we are in a room full of people. We get to our feet and smile at our onlookers before I reach for Jacob.

  “Well, that’s definitely one way to end a graduation and it’s the first proposal to take place in our formal dining area. This moment couldn’t have happened to a better woman. Jade, you’re phenomenal and I wish you and Asher the very best. Let’s raise our glasses in honor of the happy couple. Congratulations, you two!” Ray raises his glass excitedly.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes, careful not to get any mascara on my crisp white jacket. “You have made me the happiest woman in the world,” I softly whisper to Asher.

  He gently grabs my chin as we share a passionate, yet sensual kiss. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m the one getting the better bargain in this deal. Like Ray said, you are absolutely phenomenal, and I can’t wait to make you my wife. That is, if you can get used to being called Mrs. Jordan.”

  I marvel at my ring and then look up into my new fiancé’s eyes. “I most certainly can.”

  ***

  Thank you so much for reading Billionaire Nieghbor! I hope you enjoyed it.

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  Fake Marriage Act

  Fake a marriage for a million dollars? Easy.

  My buddy knows I think relationships – and women – are too much trouble.

  So as a joke he signed me up for a reality TV show.

  Marry a stranger and after six months get a million dollars.

  Even better I can walk away first and still get my half, an easy half million in my pocket.

  Sign me up.

  Then Mira walks down the aisle, her killer curves filling out the wedding dress.

  F*ck!

  Her full lips are begging for an x-rated response when I’m told I can kiss the bride.

  I’m not leaving this marriage until I taste her.

  But she has other ideas.

  These six months are going to be… hard.

  ***A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***

  Chapter 1

  RYAN

  I ROLLED MYSELF to the left, grabbing the wrench and pushing back underneath the car. I tightened the bolts manually before grabbing the drill and finishing off the job. The towel at my side was caught underneath the wheel of my cart so I tugged hard, ripping the fabric in half. A sigh escaped as I wiped the oil from my hands, staring up at the underside of a 2012 Altima. The customer didn’t need it back for two days, but I just wanted to get it out of the way. There was plenty of other work I could focus my energy on.

  Pushing myself out from under the car, I sat up, staring around my business. I had started this mechanic shop a few years before and had built it to the point where I had two part-time employees and myself now. I did most of the work to keep my labor costs down, but I could afford to hire an entire team to run the place if I wanted to. I never wanted to be that guy, though, the one who owned the shop but never had a speck of dirt on him. I worked for a guy like that in high school. He didn’t even know how to change a tire.

  My watch beeped three times and I looked down at it, realizing it was already lunchtime. As if the watch were dictating the actions of my body, my stomach growled, letting me know it was the perfect time for the tuna sandwich in my lunch bag. I put my tools up and made my way to my office, scrubbing my greasy hands before sitting down with my brown lunch sack. As I took a bite of my sandwich I hit the button on my phone, seeing I had missed a call. I didn’t recognize the number, and figured it was probably some customer, not aware I had a landline for the business.

  I set my cell phone on the desk and, putting it on speaker, called my voicemail. The chips in my bag were a little more than crushed, and as I typed in my access code, I made a mental note to stop laying my tool bag on top of my lunch when I got there in the morning. When the voice on the messages started to play, I paused, not recognizing it at all. The woman was excited, overly excited, and talking as if I had just won a new sports car.

  “Mr. Ryan Carson, this is Evelyn Owens, Producer with GNTV Networks,” she said. “I have your application in front of me and I do have to say, you seem to be exactly what we’re looking for! If you could call me back at this number right away I would really appreciate it! Have a fantastic day!”

  I furrowed my brow, realizing it couldn’t have been a mistake, she knew my name. What application was she talking about? I hadn’t applied for anything, not in a really long time. I picked up the phone and dialed the number, intrigued by the call. I really hoped it wasn’t a spammer.

  “Evelyn Owens’s office, Sue speaking,” the secretary answered.

  “Yes, I’m Ryan Carson, a Ms. Owens called and left a message,” I replied.

  “Mr. Carson, thank God you’ve called, she’s been in a panic all morning,” the secretary said, further confusing me. “Hold just one moment.”

  “I think you might be mista—” I sighed, as I was put on hold, but only for a brief moment.

  “Mr. Carson, this is Evelyn,” she answered excitedly. “I thought you might not call back.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Owens, I don’t understand what this is about,” I replied.

  “Oh! Well, you’ve been selected for our new reality TV series,” she said, excitedly, with that used car salesman tone back in her voice. “It’s really very exciting.”

  “I — what?” I almost burst into laughter at the thought. “I didn’t apply to be part of a reality show.”

  “Well, that’s odd,” she giggled. “I have your application and headshot right here in front of me. Ryan Carson, twenty-nine, six feet two inches, green eyes, lives in rural Indiana, owns a mechanic shop—”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I said, shaking my head, until suddenly a light bulb went off, and I knew exactly what had happened. My asshole best friend, Miles, probably sent in an application in my name, trying to play a joke on me. That idiot had done shit like this since we were kids. I was starting to think that he enjoyed torturing my ass. I almost felt bad for the woman, she seemed so damn excited about the whole thing.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Owens, but I believe there has been a mistake.” I rubbed my face and leaned forward on my elbow, shaking my head. “I am not interested in being on a reality show. I barely enjoy family photos every year when I was a kid. I think a friend played a practical joke on us both.”

  “Well, it looks like we a
re in a precarious situation here,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Would you at least like to hear about the show before you completely write it off?”

  “Sure,” I said, gritting my teeth and forcing a smile. “Why not?”

  “Oh good,” she said excitedly. “You would come here and film the entire thing. The premise is, you get married to a complete stranger, someone who you don’t meet until you are standing at the altar.”

  “Married? Me? That’s not gonna help your case for talking me into this,” I chuckled, flinching at the idea of getting married, especially not to a complete stranger.

  I barely ever even dated, never having time to deal with the drama that went along with it. I was more than happy just getting laid every once in a while and doing my own thing the rest of the time. Marrying a complete stranger on TV sounded horrific, but then she talked about the terms.

  “Well, the sweet sugar topping on this, is that if you stay married for just six months, we will award you, as a couple, one million dollars,” she said. “If one of you leaves early, the one who leaves gets half a million and the other gets nothing. Kind of throws a spin on it. After the six months is up, what you do is up to you, you can divorce, continue the marriage, or whatever you like.”

  “So, let me get this straight, if I stay married, on national TV, to a complete stranger for six months then I get half of a million-dollar prize. And, if I leave early, I still get that same amount?”

  “Yep,” she giggled. “Got your attention, now don’t I?”

  This, at the time, seemed like a novel idea. I could leave the marriage early, beating her to the punch and collect my half million, leaving her with nothing. I mean, she would do it to me, right? That amount of money could afford me at least two more locations plus allow me to spruce up the main garage. I had always wanted to expand the business, I just assumed it would take a decade or so until I was at that point. With this, I could almost immediately become a chain.

  “All right, say I am interested, just hypothetically now,” I said. “When would filming for this start?”

  “You would be scheduled to fly out here to Los Angeles in one week to sign the contracts, that would give you enough time to secure your affairs at home,” she replied. “Then you would start filming the following day. We would provide you an itinerary and I would be meeting with both of you after the ceremony, and on a regular basis after that. We would go over the events of the day, discuss my expectations, and I would help wherever I could to raise the viewing numbers.”

  “Okay, one week,” I said, rubbing my chin.

  How could I pass this up? It wouldn’t be a real marriage exactly, right? Sure, it might be legal, but it wouldn’t mean anything, we were perfect strangers. The whole idea of having a real marriage put me off because of the drama and claustrophobia of the whole thing. With this it should be straightforward, and I could probably even create an alliance with the girl so we both win in the end. It may have started as a joke, but seriously, I didn’t know how I could turn it down.

  “What about the tickets to Los Angeles? Who pays for those?” I asked.

  “Why, we do of course,” she said, happily. “The production company will reach out to you and schedule the whole thing. You just show up at the airport, pick up your ticket and you’ll be on your way. You don’t even have to bring that much, we’ll be providing a wardrobe for you.”

  “So, there is no cost out of pocket for me?” I asked.

  “None at all. Just your time.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, blurting out the next sentence. “All right, I’ll do it!”

  We talked for a few more minutes, but to be honest I didn’t remember a word of it, I was too busy shouting at myself for agreeing to something so stupid, just for the money. When we got off the phone, Miles was in my crosshairs, so I immediately dialed his number. He was not going to get out of this one easily, that was for damn sure. But I didn’t want him to know I knew quite yet, not until I could get him in person, face to face.

  “Hey dude,” Miles answered. “I was just thinking about calling you. I had some fine tail last night, though I had to kick her out, she was nesting already.”

  “Sounds miserable,” I laughed. “But then again, you always do end up with the ones who just don’t get the hint, even when you tell them from the beginning you aren’t a relationship kind of guy.”

  “They all think they can change me,” he sighed. “So, what’s up?”

  “Are you busy?” I asked. “I was gonna head over to Margo’s Diner for some lunch.”

  “Yeah, man, I could use some food,” he replied. “Meet you there in ten?”

  “Perfect,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  I grabbed my coat and headed straight over there, more than excited to let him have it over the whole thing. When I got there, he had grabbed a booth at the back, so I climbed in and sat, staring across the table at him. He glanced up at me and tried to look away, finally putting his menu down and staring back at me.

  “Okay, obviously something is up. What is it?”

  “I got a call today from one Evelyn Owens in LA, congratulating me on being picked for a new reality TV show,” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “Kinda funny, because I didn’t apply to any TV shows.”

  Miles immediately started laughing hysterically, covering his face as his body bounced up and down. He tried to say something, but the laughter had taken him over. I just sat there, with a straight face, watching him revel in his successful prank.

  “Man,” he said through his laughter. “I didn’t think you would actually get picked, but the thought of it was funny. I can’t believe that they chose you, this is fucking amazing. Are you gonna do it?”

  “At first, I was like ‘hell no,’ but as it turns out, the joke is on you,” I smiled. “Especially when I roll out of that thing with half a million dollars in my motherfucking pocket.”

  “What?” he said. “You’re gonna share that right? I mean I set you up with it.”

  “Dream on,” I laughed. “But I will buy the first round at the bar when I get back. We can celebrate my divorce.”

  “Does this—”

  “No! I already know what you are going to say,” I said, putting up my hand. “We made a deal to never get married, to stay bachelors forever, but this doesn’t count, it’s not real.”

  “Hmm,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Unless of course you fall in love.”

  I burst into laughter. “Fat chance, my friend. Fat chance.”

  Chapter 2

  MIRA

  “AT LEAST IT’S a beautiful day,” I smiled, as I pushed my mother’s wheelchair out of the hospital entrance and out to the curb. “And today’s dialysis wasn’t that bad, right?”

  “No, on the contrary,” my mother said. “It always makes me feel much better. But Los Angeles always has beautiful weather.”

  “Wait here,” I said, putting on the brakes to secure the chair. “I’m just gonna grab the car.”

  “And to think I was planning on racing out into traffic,” my mother replied, with a happily snarky tone. “I guess since you asked so nicely, I’ll just wait here for you.”

  “Thank you,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Be right back.”

  I grabbed the car keys out of my purse and made my way into the parking garage. It was always so packed here at the hospital I had to park on the top, though the view was pretty nice from up here. I finally made it to the top, huffing and puffing from the stairs, and after orienting myself, walked over to the car, easily recognizable by the chipping paint, noticing it had got worse, no doubt a result of sitting in the bright sun. It was a good car though, reliable, and it managed to get my mother to dialysis three times a week without us having to brave LA public transit. I’d just reached forward with the keys when I heard my phone going off. Pulling it out of my purse, I crinkled my nose. I didn’t recognize the number and really hoped it wasn’t another creditor wanting money. Still, with acting as my chosen
profession, I couldn’t afford not to answer a call.

  “This is Mira,” I said.

  “Mira, I’m so glad to hear your voice,” a very excited, but unfamiliar woman said on the other end of line. “This is Evelyn Owens, from GNTV, and I was calling to let you know that you have been chosen as a contestant for our new reality show.”

  “Really?!” I replied, trying to keep a professional tone, but inwardly ecstatic. This could be really exciting for my career.

  “Yes ma’am,” she said. “I know during the application process you didn’t get a lot of details because we want to keep it out of the press, but now I can tell you all about it. The reality show is based around a marriage between you and a mystery guy, one who you will only meet the moment he lifts your veil. You are taken to your new home in the Hills and once there, your job is to remain together for six months. If you manage to do that, the two of you will share one million dollars.”

  “Holy crap,” I said, my mouth dropping open.

  “Now, there is a curve ball in there,” she giggled. “If either of you leave before the six months is up, the person leaving receives five hundred thousand, and the other receives nothing. So, it is meant to force the two of you to work together for a common goal, much like marriage.”

  “That is really insane,” I smiled. “I mean, yes of course I will do this!”

  “Great, that is so good to hear,” she said. “So, you will not see your husband until you get married, and I need you at the GNTV main building a week from today, so next Monday at three in the afternoon to sign your contracts. We will have your groom here at a different time so the two of you don’t run into each other.”

  “Okay, that sounds great. I will be there with bells on,” I said.

  “Wonderful. Now, if anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call this number,” she replied. “I will see you in a week!”