“He’s proven me wrong.” Claire’s voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Claire’s first game, and she had agreed to accompany Margie after days of pleading.
The buzz in the crowd had caught on to her as well. Claire was standing and clapping now, just like everyone else. Hank, the Arts Major from the bar, was beside her, equally converted on his first attendance of a football game.
“Your boyfriend is quite the performer,” Hank leaned forward to say, and Margie couldn’t help but laugh. She agreed. If there was ever a performer, it was Lance Healy.
People everywhere were blowing horns and waving big foam thumbs in the air, and Margie found confetti stuck to her hair now. This was going to be her life now, she was going to attend his games and watch on proudly as Lance took his team to victory after victory.
“Here she comes.” Claire nudged Margie with her elbow just as Chloe appeared behind them.
“We won!” Chloe shrieked, right into Margie’s ear.
“We did!” Margie said excitedly, and Chloe shocked her with a tight hug.
“What’s the deal with her then?” Claire asked as they watched Chloe walk down the seats towards Bryan and the other guys.
“Nothing. She still hangs around Lance a lot, but she knows she doesn’t really stand a chance with him. She’s kind of nice to me, though. So as long as she doesn’t throw herself at him anymore, I have no complaints,” Margie said with a sigh and a smile.
“You’ll have to deal with that a lot, though,” Claire said, rolling her eyes at Chloe, who was now hugging Bryan tightly. “Fangirls throwing themselves at Lance,” Claire added.
Margie sighed and shrugged. That is what she had signed up for with Lance as a boyfriend, she knew that.
“I consider myself lucky,” she said with another shrug. Claire pointed ahead and Margie turned to look. Lance had broken away from his team and was climbing the short distance through the bleachers towards her now.
“You are very lucky. And he’s a lucky guy to have you,” Claire said, clapping again as the crowd cheered for Lance as he made his way to Margie.
Margie’s heart was beating fast. Lance was coming to her. She was important to him, more than the game and more than the cheers.
“We won!” he said, just as he came up to her and lifted her up in his arms to give her a twirl.
“We won!” she repeated after him and leaned in for a kiss.
“Let’s get out of here?” he asked, gripping her waist tightly.
“What about celebrating with your teammates?” she asked, and Lance laughed.
“They’ll understand,” he said, planting a kiss on her belly.
“We’re leaving, Claire. I’m abducting your friend,” he said, turning to Claire and Hank.
Margie couldn’t do anything else other than blush a bright red.
*****
THE END
Daddy's Big Friend
Description
Men suck.
My fiancé cheated on me with my best friend. So I left the loser at the altar.
I really don’t want to deal with the entire town right now, so I talk my dad’s best friend into driving me up to his cabin.
What I didn’t plan for is a snowstorm that traps us there for a week. Alone.
He’s a resident playboy. I’m a virgin. No one has ever touched my body.
He’d be perfect for a fling. He has a talent for pleasing the ladies, according to gossip.
He’s also way too old, way too experienced and waaayyy too sexy for me.
But we’re alone. Who would ever find out?
Poor me, stuck with the attractive man who rescued me from my doomed marriage.
What am I gonna do? Who’s gonna stop me?
Chapter One
Olivia Berlin clutched her bouquet and stared, struck mute, at her best friend and maid of honor. “You did what with my fiancé?”
“I’m so sorry, Olivia. We’ve been sleeping together for two years. I just think you should know before you get married.” Tara gripped Olivia by the shoulders, so tight it almost hurt.
“I don’t believe you.” Olivia shrugged Tara’s hands from her shoulders and looked around the room wildly. This couldn’t be happening. She was walking down the aisle in seventeen minutes.
Tara snatched Olivia’s bare arm and pulled her closer. “He has a birthmark, on his ass. It’s shaped like Abraham Lincoln’s head on a penny.”
Olivia’s eyes grew wide at this admission. Jared, her fiancé, had told her about this birthmark. He thought it was cool and would swear that’s exactly what it looked like. “He could’ve told you that.”
“He didn’t tell me, I saw it.” Tara crossed over to a chair and sat down, crossing her arms.
Olivia wanted to tell her she was going to wrinkle her dress but wasn’t sure if it mattered at this point.
“He likes to play tangle-the-tongues when he kisses.” Tara crossed her arms and went on. “And he leaves hickeys on my collarbone. He calls it his ‘brand.’ He—”
Olivia put her hand up. She knew about the way Jared liked to mark her with a hickey on the collarbone, that he called it “branding.” And he did get a little aggressive with his tongue. Could Tara be telling the truth?
Olivia sank down in the middle of the floor. Her dress rustled, the ballroom skirt ballooning around her. Her strapless sweetheart bodice, and the corset underneath, pushed her breasts up and out when she sat. Dear God, it was true. Jared had been cheating on her for the last two years. She lifted her face to gaze at Tara. “Why? Why would you do that to me?”
“Because Jared’s dad has more money than anyone in this shitty little town. I never dreamed he’d live with you not putting out, this whole waiting until marriage idea you’ve had in your head since we were little.”
“Jared said he loved that I wanted to wait.” Olivia swallowed back the lump in her throat. This had blindsided her. She didn’t know what to do now.
“Maybe he did. Maybe he thought he’d just keep me on the side, and marry the pretty little virginal homecoming queen.” Tara stood up and approached Olivia, eyes narrowed. “But I’m nobody’s fool.”
“So, you’re doing this because he was going to marry me instead of you? You don’t even care that the two of you cheating would hurt me.” It was more observation than anything. Tara obviously didn’t give a damn how this affected Olivia.
How did it affect her? She glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes until the ceremony started. Olivia stood up and looked at her bouquet, then tossed the white and pink flowers into the corner. “You can have him. I hope he’s worth what you had to do to get him.”
Tara glared at her. “What’s that?”
“Screw around with your best friend’s man. My mother let you live with us when your mom died. I treated you like a sister for the last six years.”
Moving so fast Olivia didn’t have time to react, Tara slapped her, snapping her head to the side. “You’re no better than me, ice princess.”
Olivia raised a hand to her cheek, which burned like an oven. “I’m getting out of here. You can explain what happened to Jared, since you want him so bad.”
She stormed to the door and opened it to look out in the alcove. Her father was nowhere in sight. He was supposed to be waiting there to escort her down the aisle. She’d have to talk fast—he wouldn’t be happy canceling a wedding, at the last minute especially, that he’d spent five thousand dollars to fund.
Her dress alone had been nearly two thousand dollars. Now she couldn’t wait to get out of it. It was huge, white, ridiculous. It was supposed to reflect her choice to wait for marriage, to signify her purity. Suddenly, she wanted to strip out of the dress, because she felt childish and stupid. If she hadn’t wanted to wait, Jared wouldn’t have cheated on her.
But, no. That’s not where the blame belonged. She was lucky he’d cheated before the wedding because now she could back out and not have to marry the slimy son-of-a-bitch.
Everyone w
as seated in the church. The ceremony was slated to start in eight minutes. She needed her father, or, well, anyone. Tara would probably help her leave, but she wanted nothing more to do with her former friend. Tara had betrayed everything Olivia had believed about their friendship.
The two people she’d trusted the most had gone behind her back and slept together. Her life was falling apart and, as usual, her father was nowhere to be found during a crisis.
She needed out of here, right now. Her job as a hairdresser had given her two weeks off for her honeymoon. She’d find somewhere to go, to get away, so she could think.
If she could find a ride. She hadn’t exactly driven herself here. Tara had brought her over before they got ready. And she wasn’t sure she could drive in four-inch heels. She supposed women did but she’d had no practice.
She didn’t want to have to announce to the church that the wedding was canceled—let Tara or Jared do that. They were the ones who had decided to mess around behind her back.
***
Flynn Wilder couldn’t believe what he’d just done. The wedding was set to start in five minutes, and he’d slipped out into the alcove to run out to his Jeep and get his phone. He could get out and back in before the ceremony started if he hauled ass.
He was still waiting for the email letting him know if he got the contracting job to build the new hotel in town. They lived in a small town, where everyone was related by two or three degrees of separation and most usually had more than one connection to each other.
He was here as the father-of-the-bride’s best friend, so it was kind of essential that he attend the wedding. But the kicker was, he hoped to speak to the groom’s father at the reception if that email hadn’t come through.
Jared King, the groom, was the one and only son of the developer building the hotel.
Opening the door to his Jeep, he grabbed his phone and made sure it was on silent. Even if he would be staring at it through the ceremony, turning the sound off was the least he could do.
That hotel would be a boon for Flynn’s business. His profits would steadily increase, he’d be able to buy some more equipment and hire a few more guys, and keep his employees working for the next eighteen months.
He looked up at the church. He had to be running out of time, but he checked his email all the same. Nothing new. Damn it.
Stuffing the phone into the pocket of his black dress slacks, Flynn took off across the parking lot to the church at a brisk pace. He’d cleared the outer door and was almost to the doors to the sanctuary when he heard someone say, “Please help me,” in a small, quiet voice.
Flynn turned to the alcove, where the voice had come from. Out of the shadows stepped the bride. She wore a dress that left her shoulders and arms bare, and it swept out in a lacy white bell from her waist. Her hair was up, but cascaded down her neck and back in tiny curls. She either didn’t plan to wear a veil or she hadn’t put it on yet.
He pulled up short and looked around. There was no one else—she had to be talking to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find my dad and the wedding is starting soon.”
Flynn looked closer at her face, which made her look like a sculpted beauty. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top and she had striking green eyes. Tears and mascara left streaks down her face. “Do you want me to try to find him?”
“No… could you get me out of here?” She walked right up to him and, even crying, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. If she weren’t crying, if it weren’t her wedding day, he’d have wanted her instantly.
Had they met in a bar somewhere, instead of under these unusual circumstances, he would have had to have her. Instead, he could only stare at her. “You want to leave your wedding? Why?”
“Because my fiancé is a cheating piece of trash. With my best friend. The maid of honor. It’s so cliché, it should be a country song.” She stepped forward and took his hand. “You’re a friend of my father’s. I think we’ve met once or twice.”
He wasn’t even sure how old she was. Early twenties? That put her half his age, give or take. Not that it would’ve stopped him in his bar scenario. He enjoyed younger women as much as any other woman.
Regardless, between his bar fantasy—in which he took her home and bedded her, exploring the luscious breasts heaving out of her bodice—and the confession she’d made about the affair between the groom and maid of honor, he was struck speechless.
“Will you get me out of here? I’m Olivia.” She frowned. “You probably know that since you’re here for my wedding.”
“Sure, Olivia. I know who you are.” He held out an awkward hand. “I’m Flynn Wilder.”
“Right. Resident playboy. No offense.” She shook his hand, looking nervously at the sanctuary door. “I need to go before the wedding starts. I can’t face all those people just yet. I know I’ll have to eventually, but I can’t do it right now.”
Flynn put his hand on her bare shoulder and a shock shot through him. He almost pulled away. It made him hyper-aware of her bare skin, her breasts practically bursting from the top of the dress, of her long, espresso colored hair.
Surely her father, Sean, would want him to help her since he wasn’t around. He wouldn’t want her to have to explain to the hundreds of people in the sanctuary why she couldn’t get married, would want her safe in the comfort that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do.
“Come on.” He guided her with a hand on her arm toward the outer doors. He led her to his Jeep and opened the passenger door for her. It took them several minutes to get her dress inside the front seat.
Finally, the lace and tulle floated everywhere around her, but none of it hung out of the vehicle. He slammed the door and crossed to the driver side. He glanced at her as he started the Jeep. “You sure about this?”
“I’ve never been this sure about anything. Drive, please.”
Flynn made his way out of the parking lot and turned east. In silence, they made their way to the edge of town. “Have you thought about where you want to go?”
“I don’t have anywhere besides my apartment. Jared would follow me to the hotel if I went on the honeymoon alone.” She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I don’t know where I can go. I just want some peace while I figure out what to do next.”
He felt terrible for her. She hadn’t asked for this situation. There was no excuse for cheating, and she deserved better. A thought occurred to him and was out his mouth before he could stop himself. “I’ve got a cabin in the mountains. It’s about an hour away.”
Glancing at her then back at the road, he put a comforting hand on hers, tangled together in the lap of her huge gown. “There’s plenty of food and firewood. You can stay as long as you like, but you’ll have to tell me when you want me to pick you up. There’s no phone and no cell service.”
“Oh, but that would be perfect. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Or see anyone. I just need to figure out my next move.”
As far as Flynn was concerned, the solution was obvious. When he got back from dropping her off, he’d call Sean and let him know where his daughter was, that she was safe, and what had happened.
***
They’d been on the road for the last half hour and Olivia still shook all over. Her hands were a useless mess in her lap, sweaty and trembling. The sun was setting on the cool Valentine’s Day evening. She’d have been married by now if Jared weren’t such a cheating shit.
She didn’t know what shocked her more—that Jared had cheated on her or that her best friend in the whole world had been the one he’d been screwing for the last two years. She was an absolute idiot.
“Looks like we’re driving into a storm. You might get stranded up here.”
“Mm-hmm.” What was she supposed to say? She never wanted to go back to their small town again. If she never got back, that was fine by her.
“We can turn back. It’s not too late.” He shifted his car down and switched on the four-wheel driv
e. “Well, it’s probably too late to go back to the church without anyone noticing. But you don’t have to hide away.”
“Everyone I know is going to be furious with me for something I had no control over. I think I’d like a little reprieve from that. I’ve got two weeks before I have to be back at the salon.”
“That’s right, you’re a stylist. That must be interesting work.”
The snow flew so hard and fast now, it streaked at them. She was glad he seemed comfortable driving in it because it was sticking to the road and really starting to pile up.
She looked over at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was being nice, trying to make conversation. “It’s okay.”
Flynn was one of those guys who was hot twenty years ago and would still be hot in twenty more years. He was rugged, with his ruffled ebony hair, and dark maple syrup eyes to melt into. It had not escaped her notice, as she followed him out to his Jeep that he had a killer ass, too.
Which was awful of her, she supposed. But tonight was supposed to be her wedding night. A virgin no more after tonight, that had been the plan. And what good had waiting done her?
Not a damn bit. She’d been played for a fool. She needed a fling, that’s what. A romance would never work because she’d never trust a man again. Her mom had been right. After Olivia’s dad left her for his second wife—he was working on wife number six now—she said, “You can never trust a man. He thinks with his privates.”
Her mother had certainly been proved right today. Her father had cheated on all of his wives, Jared had cheated on her—all men cheated eventually.
Hungry Mountain Man Page 43
