Cupid's Mistake
By Chantilly White
Copyright © 2013 Chantilly White
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is purely coincidental.
Cupid's Mistake
Party-girl Allison Kelly has it all—great friends, a flourishing business, and an active sex life. She's beautiful, busy and blissfully fulfilled, with no time or inclination for a relationship. Sure, she suffers the occasional twinge of loneliness. Who doesn't? But if her latest boy-toy is unavailable, there's always another one at her friend's dating service, Cupid's Cavalry.
Life has been anything but a party for Benjamin Turner. Orphaned at fifteen, widowed at twenty-three, he traveled the world on self-imposed exile, but he couldn't outrun the loneliness eating away his soul. Finally home again, he's dedicated to serious endeavors—ending world hunger, providing clean water—not partying. But he's also ready to give life and love another chance. It's Cupid's Cavalry to the rescue. Maybe.
He's looking for stability. She wants a good time. Will Cupid's arrow find its mark this Valentine's Day, or will their pairing prove to be Cupid's biggest mistake?
DEDICATION
To the party girls, and the men who tame without breaking ~ Here's to love
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
~William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
TABLE of CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
COMPLETE BOOK LIST
EXCERPT ~ Pearls of Pleasure, by Chantilly White
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Cupid's Mistake
By Chantilly White
CHAPTER ONE
Midnight ~ New Year's Eve
"Happy New Year!"
Excited shouts followed by the sounds of celebratory kissing flowed around her as Allison Kelly surveyed the mob of people crammed inside her tiny home. They were so. . . enthusiastic.
Bah, humbug, hovered at the corner of her crimson lips, but Allison refused to let her mood get tied up in knots by the narrow ribbon of envy winding its way around her heart.
It would be easier if she weren't sailing solo in a sea of couples.
Streamers and confetti, courtesy of her friends, Jeff Denton and his fiancé, Greg Mitchell, sparkled on every surface, glittered in people's hair and flew through the air in a festive rainbow cloud. She'd spend hours vacuuming it all up in the morning, but for now it was a beautiful sight, full of fun. The promise of a new year, a fresh start, hung in that cloud. She was in no hurry to whisk it away.
Post-midnight-ball drop and nearly one-hundred emptied glasses of champagne, the music resumed. The crowd recommenced gyrating in their hedonistic mating ritual, also known as dancing. Prince egged them on to the strains of Erotic City booming out of her stereo's monster speakers.
"Happy, happy, darling," Jeff and Greg chorused as they twirled past, tossing her matching air-kisses off the tips of their matching manicures.
"Speak of the devils," she said, but puckered her lips for a return kiss-kiss, though the twining, envious ribbon gave her heart another hard tug.
She was not supposed to be standing here, in a sexy scrap of lemon-yellow satin and even sexier red Louboutins, in the middle of the gaiety, alone.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Allison fussed with her burnished-bronze ringlets. The curls were caught in a high, complicated ponytail inside the sparkly New Year's tiara perched on her head, then left to cascade to the middle of her bare back. The tail ended several inches above the low-slung bow of her short-and-slinky dress, which clung to her slender curves a whisper above the line of indecency.
She looked like a goddess, and she knew it. Not that it mattered, thanks to Don—no, Ron. Jon?
Whatever.
Allison rolled her shoulders. The prick.
All this New Year's hotness. Wasted.
Damn it.
That would teach her to trust one of the most important date-nights in a party girl's year to the affections of an impulse pick-up. She hadn't even had a backup in place. She always had a backup.
She must be losing her touch.
Weaving through the jostling crowd, Allison tipped her refilled glass of champagne to those raised in her direction and exchanged brief hugs with friends as she passed. It wasn't like she hadn't had other offers for tonight. But, well. . . if she was honest, she'd been bored with her recent crop of boy toys.
Even worse, one or two had been making noises about getting exclusive.
When she'd spotted a golden Adonis—in her dentist's office, of all places—two days ago, she'd turned on the charm. He'd pounced in a mutually satisfactory way.
But that same 'Adonis' was currently sprawled across her deep-purple couch while attempting to swallow one of her friends whole with his New Year's kiss, and Allison had yet to have her bells rung to usher in the new year.
She didn't begrudge her friend—was it Kris? She couldn't tell in the wild tangle of limbs—but she would have liked Jon. . . no, Don, to stick with her long enough to get through midnight. As a courtesy, at least. The pre-party sex hadn't even been that good. Now she had no New Year's kiss and was looking forward to a night powered by the Energizer Bunny instead of wild animal lust.
It boded ill for the year.
Sighing, Allison gathered discarded champagne flutes along the way and turned into her cobalt, white and charcoal kitchen, only to draw up short at the sight of her two best friends. Derrick Fox and Mia Patterson stood backed against the counter, wrapped around each other in a kiss a crowbar couldn't pry apart.
Feeling a need to fan herself, Allison mouthed a silent, Wow. If she doused them with water, she had no doubt steam would rise.
How long had it been since she'd been kissed like that? Too long.
Although the two had technically been dating for a few months now, they, along with herself and Jeff, had been best friends since their first week of college at UC Irvine, and all through the eight years since. Now newly engaged, Derrick and Mia were just too cute for words. Allison's heart overflowed with love for them both, but she still wasn't used to coming upon her friends in such passionate embraces.
With the music blasting from the other room, they hadn't heard her enter. She pitched her voice to carry above AC/
DC's Shook Me All Night Long.
"Get a room, you two."
Derrick skimmed his hands down his fiancée's hips and finished off the kiss before breaking his lips from Mia's. He snugged his future bride into his arms, then grinned cheekily at Allison, his topaz eyes dancing. She rolled her own heavenward but, observing her friend, she had to laugh.
Mia's passion-glazed, unfocused green eyes stared dreamily up at Derrick. Her long dark hair, previously styled high on her head, flowed down her back in disordered waves that had obviously seen some action from Derrick's seeking fingers, and the skirt of her sparkly sapphire-blue party dress rode dangerously high on her thighs. It was another moment before she even realized Allison had entered the room. Mia's lovely face, already flushed, went several shades darker, but she peeked around Derrick's broad shoulders to smile. She waved her left hand, making a point of flashing the diamonds in her engagement ring under the bright kitchen lights.
"Stop, stop, already, I'm blind," Allison said, playing along and shielding her eyes. The glasses in her hand clinked together. "Watch it, will you? That thing's practically a weapon."
Waggling her fingers happily, Mia admired the stones playing iridescent drops of light over Allison's kitchen walls.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked for the seven-thousandth time, not that Allison was counting.
"Gorgeous," Allison agreed. She tipped her head to Derrick. "You done good, boyo."
Derrick shared a very private glance with Mia that had both of their mouths bowing up into equally private smiles. Allison's heart gave another squeeze in its envy-wrapped state.
She needed a pair of mental shears to slice that winding ribbon in half.
"Great party, Alli," Derrick said, his eyes still locked on Mia's.
Allison snorted. A lot either of them knew about it, tucked away in her kitchen.
Setting her armload of glasses on the counter, Allison gave them each a hug, ruffling Derrick's gold-tipped sandy hair, then departed so they could get back to their lip-lock. They'd only been engaged a week, after all. They needed time alone, even in the midst of a party.
But wow, the weddings were piling up. She'd barely begun planning Jeff and Greg's no-holds-barred event before adding Derrick and Mia's to her lineup for the year. Jeff and Greg had made their announcement at her last big party, her annual masquerade at the beginning of December, and she suspected their good friends, Mark and Brian, would soon follow suit. Couples were falling like dominoes.
As an event planner, a full calendar looked good for business. Even if she was doing her friends' weddings gratis, other clients treated her lack of availability as an endorsement for the quality of her work.
That was the good news.
The bad news was. . . Well, there wasn't really any bad news, except that the impending nuptials were making her insides writhe like a pit of baby green-eyed snakes.
And she wasn't jealous. Not really. She enjoyed her lifestyle, her freedom, the satisfying-if-casual hook-ups when she wanted. It was just. . . sometimes—just every once in a while—loneliness swept in and took her by surprise, a rogue wave that could take her under.
If she let it. Which she didn't.
Usually.
Not that the rare take-down lasted long, and she'd never admitted such a thing out loud. But with everyone pairing up, it seemed her mind turned more and more often to relationships with durations longer than a few weeks. She'd had her share of boyfriends in the past—one had even lasted over a year—but no one who'd made her think in terms of forever.
Threading through her crowded living room, Allison continued to straighten here and there, even knowing it was hopeless until the horde departed.
Maybe it was just wedding-glow rubbing off on her. Sure, she dealt with brides all the time in her business, but these were people she knew and loved. It had more impact. Jeff and Greg could hardly keep their eyes off each other, and tonight was Mia and Derrick's first time in public since before their Christmas Eve engagement, other than a get-together with Allison, Jeff and Greg to celebrate on Christmas Day.
Allison had surprised herself by tearing up. She wasn't easily moved to sentiment, but they'd just looked so damn happy. Mia had been positively radiant after her long-awaited deflowering, all the more so with Derrick's ring on her finger.
And Allison had thought, just for a moment, "I wish. . ." before catching herself.
She was only twenty-five, after all. Way too young to be thinking about marriage and, God forbid, babies. In-laws, shared vacations, college savings accounts. She still had her own college loans to pay off, for crying out loud, not to mention her mortgage.
No.
No, thank you very much.
Just because her friends had been bitten by the love bug didn't mean she wanted to roll around in the same romance-infected grass. Not yet. What she needed was a vaccine. She was fine on her own. Better than fine.
Besides, she hadn't met The One yet. She'd know him as soon as she did, or so all the women in her family claimed. They'd each recognized their soul mates immediately, the family stories went, complete with ringing bells and shooting fireworks to mark the occasions. The Kelly women were practically famous for their love-at-first-sight tradition.
Blessing, curse or tall, tall tale, Allison had always scoffed over the stories out loud, even to her closest friends. Even to Mia. Secretly, though, a tiny, defiant part of her heart still hoped she'd have the same sense of certainty when her time came.
Just not yet. She was having way too much fun playing the field to be thinking about a permanent I-do.
Which did not in any way excuse Mr. Whatever-His-Name-Was for ditching her at her own freaking party on New Year's freaking Eve. She'd intended to have her sexual itch satisfyingly scratched tonight. Instead, her Adonis-turned-traitor was scratching Kris.
Man-whore.
Allison thought the words, but the phrase scrolled by without any real heat. How many times had she done the exact same thing? Left one man dangling when another with better chemistry caught her eye. She would not begin a new year by succumbing to hypocrisy.
Irritation, she'd allow.
Reentering her living room, she caught Jeff's eye above the shimmy-shaking crowd. Exotically handsome with his dark hair, pale green eyes and to-die-for bone structure, Mr. Drag Queen of the Universe—as he billed himself—stood six-foot-four and could see over practically everyone. He quirked his perfectly tweezed dark-winged brow at her, then jerked his chin in the direction of her couch, pushed against the wall out of the way of the dancers.
Ah.
Jeff had spotted her would-be scratcher with his new itch, as well. Don-Ron-Jon's blond hair glinted in the mood lighting, and Kris's blood-red nails clutched the golden strands as the two of them writhed like eels on the purple fabric. Allison grimaced. If they got any friskier, she'd have to have the sofa shampooed before she could sit on it again.
Raising her shoulders in a shrug for Jeff's benefit, she wove through the dancers and out into the garage to check on the second bar she'd set up there. One of her neighbors, Sally Turner, had crashed on the loveseat Allison had placed along the back wall and was snoring with gusto, her head lolling on the shoulder of a giant of a man Allison didn't recognize, also sound asleep.
Glad they found the party so invigorating, Allison thought with a half-laugh, but she knew Sally. One glass of champagne was enough to do her in. The guy, though. . .
Running an assessing gaze along his stretched-out form, Allison wondered where Sally had dug him up. He wasn't Sally's usual type, though Allison's libido gave a little kick. She had a thing for big men, and this man was huge, a veritable mountain. He had to be even taller than Jeff, and easily as well-built, but wow, he was hairy. A long, thick mop of rich sable glowed in the dim light, but it looked like he hadn't had the benefit of a haircut or a shave in decades, and he was dressed like a barbarian. Beat-up denim, an ancient plaid shirt and—ugh—hiking boots? Really?
Not the New
Year's style she preferred.
Big, hard-muscled man or not, she'd take hers without the B-movie Sasquatch veneer. Sally could have this one.
Aside from the snoozing couple, the garage was empty. Everyone else either partied in the house or outside in the cool night air that passed for winter in southern California. She'd leave the lovebirds be for now. With a delicate shudder, Allison went back to studying the bar.
They were getting low on champagne, and the shot glasses were empty, but there was still plenty of beer and wine. The canapés and single-serving dessert parfaits looked like a marauding band of pirates had pillaged the row of pretty holiday tables. At least they'd left the carnation-and-lily flower arrangements.
She sighed, but there was no point in refilling at this hour. Midnight was past. People would begin departing soon.
The celebration had come together quickly in any case, since she'd originally had a gig booked for the night, as she did every year. Her clients had canceled a week ago, so Allison had decided to take advantage of the rare treat in her schedule—a New Year's Eve off—to throw a party herself. Maybe it hadn't been quite up to her usual standards on such short notice, but then, when partying in her own home, she tended to keep it on the casual side compared to a professional event.
Not hiking-boot casual, she thought with an aggrieved glance for the offending size-fourteens on the mountain man's feet, but almost everyone in attendance was a friend. They just wanted to hang out, dance and have plenty to drink.
There were a few strangers aside from the giant gorilla, though, and that reminded her of her promised duty to her friend, DeeDee Barnett.
Where had she left that bowl?
Spinning around, Allison cast her eyes over the assorted buffet tables draped in purple cloths lining the garage walls. There. She hurried to the far end of the room near the loveseat, her heels click-clacking loudly on the chilly concrete during a brief lull in the music. Snatching up the crystal bowl, she flicked through the remaining business cards inside.
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