Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

  That shit happened only in the movies.

  And this was no movie.

  This was my life.

  I slid my badge through the card reader at the security desk, but the little light on the reader blinked red rather than green. The burly security guard looked at my badge, then directed me to sit in a chair in the lobby while he made a call. I looked at Vee and forced a smile.

  “Problem with my badge,” I said. “You go on, I’ll catch up.”

  Vee gave me the look you’d give somebody when they told you they were going to die. She didn’t say anything. She just gave me a hug and disappeared into the crowd of people waiting for the elevators.

  Betty, the HR lady, seemed very happy to let me know that my services were no longer required by Shaw Investments. She did not know the exact reason why my employment was being terminated and didn’t seem to care.

  She simply said that the order had come down from the executive suite that morning and that was all she knew.

  She handed me an envelope containing a check for four-weeks’ severance pay and asked the guard to escort me out the door.

  I stood on the sidewalk, dumbfounded, with tears in my eyes and the heaviest sadness my heart has ever known.

  I thought about calling Cameron, but realized I didn’t even know his number. I tried Vee’s cellphone as I made my way toward the subway station, but it went straight to voicemail. I knew there was nothing she could do. I just needed to hear a friendly voice.

  Dammit, Alex, what were you thinking? I should have known something like this would happen. I’d given myself over too easily. I should have never slept with him. Our one night of pleasure wasn’t worth the repercussions it was having today.

  Shit, who was I fooling.

  I loved making love with Cameron.

  I was so thrilled that he was my first. He made me feel amazing. I didn’t regret doing it and I would do it all again.

  I wouldn’t change a thing.

  At least I’d take the memory of my night with Cameron Shaw back to Idaho with me.

  My big city adventure had come to an end.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cameron

  I was feeling like a billion bucks. I had just closed the acquisition of Baby-Co Industries and was back on my Learjet headed for home. It had been nearly a week since I’d seen or spoken to Alex. I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms again.

  I’d done a lot of thinking while I was away. I had lost control of my life in pursuit of building an empire that controlled me, rather than the other way around.

  Things were going to change when I got home.

  Monique and her father wouldn’t like it, but it was time to follow my heart rather than the almighty dollar.

  I had enough money. Now I wanted to be happy.

  I wanted a life with the redhead from Idaho.

  Strange, I called Alex’s cell every day, but it went straight to voicemail. I have a thing about leaving voicemails, so I just hung up, thinking that she’d see that I called and call me back.

  I did not try to call her at the office. I was dealing with enough bullshit from Mitchell over the situation. I didn’t need more grief from anyone else there.

  Mitch met me at the airport in the company limo. He gave me time to settle into the seat before showing me the stock ticker app on his phone.

  “News of the Baby-Co acquisition certainly made Wall Street happy,” he said. “Shaw stock is up almost five percent.”

  “Money in the bank,” I said with a sigh. I tugged my cellphone from inside my jacket and thumbed through the texts and voicemails I’d received while I was in the air. There was nothing from Alex.

  “Something wrong?” Mitch asked, noticing the disappointed look on my face.

  “I’ve been expecting a call,” I said. “From Alex. You must be keeping her loaded with work if she’s too busy to take my calls.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Mitch said with a frown. “I had to let her go.”

  My eyebrows show up like bottle rockets. “You what?”

  “I had to let her go,” Mitch said, making a pained face. “She was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Sebastian, Monique and I thought it would be best if she wasn’t around, so...”

  “Stop right there,” I said, putting up a hand. “Sebastian, Monique, and you? What, are you three a fucking team now? Everyone banded together to control my life?”

  Mitch looked as if he was contemplating jumping out of the limo. He began to stammer. “No, I mean, it was Sebastian and Monique, but I agreed with them, so…”

  “You fired her.” I said the words because he didn’t have the balls to do so.

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Monday.”

  “Jesus Christ, Mitch.” I rubbed the anger from my eyes. I knew this wasn’t Mitch’s doing. Mitch didn’t have the balls to cross me; unless Monique was squeezing his balls into doing so.

  “Cam, please, try to understand. If you don’t marry Monique, there is no merger. And if there is no merger, you don’t take over both companies in a year.”

  “And you don’t get a huge bump in pay and make millions off the stock deal,” I said, sounding much calmer than I actually felt. He was lucky I didn’t strangle him to death and toss his body over the Brooklyn bridge.

  I shook my head at him. “It’s not enough that I let you fuck my fiancé. You have to fuck me, too?”

  “Cam, dude, I swear…”

  “Where is she?”

  “Monique is waiting at the office.”

  “Not Monique. Alex. Where is she.”

  He tried to lie. “I have no idea.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Mitch, you have one chance to save your job and our friendship. I know you’re fucking the girl Alex was living with. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is Alexandra Shaw?”

  “She went home,” he said quietly. “Back to Idaho.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alex

  “Do you want another cup of coffee, dear?” Mom was already filling Fred’s cup before he could answer. They’d been together for so long they didn’t have to speak anymore. He smiled up at her from his newspaper and she kissed the top of his head.

  “More coffee, Alex?” Mom asked. I shook my head, so she put the pot back on the burner and sat down across the breakfast table from me. She started talking about the number of pies she was planning to bake for some fundraiser at church. The moment I heard the word “fundraiser” I tuned out. The last fundraiser I attended didn’t end so well.

  I’d been home for four days and every morning started the same. Fred read the morning paper as he ate breakfast, while Mom talked without anyone listening, and I picked at my breakfast and thought about Cameron.

  I wondered what he was doing.

  I wondered if he was thinking about me.

  I wondered why he had me fired and now keeps calling my cell. I had resigned myself to not answer his calls. If he wanted to talk to me he could leave a voicemail explaining why he was such an asshole, then maybe I’d talk to him. Maybe.

  “So I told Clara that if she wanted to bake pecan pies, I would do apple,” Mom was saying. She stopped short and turned an ear toward the window. “Is that a car I hear?”

  “I dunno,” Fred said in his lazy drawl. He looked at me over his reading glasses. “You expecting company?”

  “Nobody knows I’m here,” I said.

  Mom looked out the kitchen window. “I don’t recognize the car. Good looking man getting out. Doesn’t look like anyone from around here. Wonder what he wants?”

  “Why don’t you go ask him,” I said.

  “Why don’t you,” Fred said with one eyebrow raised.

  I frowned at him just as the visitor knocked on the front door. I rolled my eyes at Fred. “It better not be Perry.”

  “It’s not,” Fred said, rustling the newspaper at me.

  I carried my frown to the front door wit
h me, but it left the minute I saw him standing on the other side of the screen door.

  Cameron Shaw…

  What the heck was he doing in Idaho?

  “What? How? I mean, why?” Obviously, seeing Cameron again had taken away my ability to string words together. He smiled at me through the screen door.

  “Hi, Alex,” he said. “Can we talk?”

  I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at him. “What do we have to talk about?”

  “I’ve been trying to call you for days,” he said, putting a hand on the screen. “You never pick up and I hate voicemail, so…”

  “You had me fired,” I said, clenching my teeth. “After what we, I mean, how could you?”

  “I didn’t have you fired, Alex,” he said.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. And I’m not marrying Monique.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. Will you give me a chance to explain?”

  I felt my eyes flooding with tears as I pushed open the screen door and said, “I do. I mean, yes, I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Alex

  Idaho weddings are a little different from New York City weddings, especially weddings that happen as quickly as ours did.

  For example, the church in New York City where Monique wanted to get married seated five thousand people.

  The First Baptist Church in Twin Falls only seated four hundred. That meant that there were three hundred and ninety seats available the day we got married.

  It was a very one-sided wedding. Mom and Fred sat on the front row on the bride’s side of the aisle. In the pews behind them sat an unhappy-looking Perry and a handful of aunts, uncles, cousins, and old high school friends. Just ten people in all.

  There was no one sitting on the groom’s side, but Cameron could not have cared less. He was there only to marry me, not impress a roomful of socialites, reporters, and investors.

  Mitchell had flown in to be Cameron’s best man and to my surprise, brought Vee along. She ended up being my maid of honor. Funny, Perry couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He looked at her like a kid in a candy store window. Maybe I just wasn’t Perry’s type. Who knew?

  The ceremony was sweet and simple and over quickly. Reverend Chaney asked ahead of time if we wanted the long or short version. I said the shorter the better, since my future husband had refused to have sex with me again until our wedding night.

  I swear, I had no idea Cameron was such a romantic. I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams that the cocky billionaire I met the first day at Shaw would be my loving husband in just a few weeks.

  He said he’d done a lot of thinking and realized what was really important in life. I was just glad I had come in at the top of his list.

  I was married in a white summer dress and no shoes. Cameron wore jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Mom was horrified at first that we were getting married dressed that way, but Fred calmed her down.

  It turned out that Fred knew Cameron was coming for me. When Cameron couldn’t get me to pick up the phone, he found Fred’s number listed as my emergency contact on my resume and called him. Fred knew Cameron was coming the day before he arrived, but the old coot didn’t say a word to me. I’ll always love him for that because it was an amazing surprise.

  I stared into Cameron’s eyes as the preacher read the vows. I wanted someone to pinch me to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

  When Cameron slipped the simple band of gold onto my finger next to the engagement ring he’d bought at Kay Jewelers the day before in Twin Falls, my eyes filled with tears. He said he’d buy me a real ring back in the city, but I said this one would do just fine.

  My engagement ring was a simple diamond set in rose gold. It was a fraction of the price of the one he’d given to Monique, I was sure, but I didn’t care. It was the greatest ring in the world and would never leave my finger.

  We said our “I do’s” and I literally jumped into Cameron’s arms and pressed my lips to his.

  It was a sweet, gentle kiss, full of love and hope and promise.

  I couldn’t wait to get him alone.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  “That was some reception,” Cameron said as he came out of the bathroom still damp from the shower. He rubbed a towel over his wet hair. “What was the name of that place? The Steak Barn?”

  “The Steak Barn, home of the finest steaks in all of Idaho,” I said. I was stretched out naked on the motel bed waiting for him to consummate our marriage. Cameron refused to have sex in his new pal Fred’s house, so we rented a room at the Twin Falls Motel. He seemed to be getting a kick out of making me wait.

  Cameron tossed the towel to the floor and climbed on top of me. I felt his cock rubbing against my clit. He lowered his lips to mine and sighed. “I love you, Mrs. Shaw.”

  “I love you, too, Mr. Shaw.” I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him to me. “Now, be a good boy and fuck your wife.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Cameron pressed his lips to mine and started moving his hips, rubbing his cock back and forth over my clit. My pussy immediately responded with a flood of hot juices that lubed the underside of the shaft. I could feel his balls slapping at my pussy with each stroke.

  I reached down and took his cock in my hand and tugged on it as his tongue explored my mouth. His cock grew to full length in my hand, making both of us sigh.

  I guided the head into my opening and swished it around the juicy goodness to get it lubed. I no longer had my cherry, but my pussy was tight as a drum. That, according to Vee, was a very good thing.

  I let go of Cameron’s cock and he slid into me an inch at a time.

  Cameron kissed me as his cock slid in and out of me. My legs tightened around him. His pace quickened until he was fucking me with the speed and force of a jackhammer. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Every nerve ending in my body was on end as my muscles tensed and the blood rushed to my womb.

  We came together and collapsed in each other’s arms; sweating, panting, laughing. We were as happy as two Idaho potato farmers at a French fry eating contest (another Fred saying, though I don’t think he ever applied it to something like this).

  Cameron kissed me again and told me he loved me.

  There was no pain this time.

  There was only pleasure.

  There would always be only pleasure.

  About the Author

  Amy Brent loves to write hot, spicy romances that feature gorgeous alpha men who love to protect their women. Amy's heroes are rough, hot, bad boys who possess that soft heart a woman definitely yearns for.

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  Memory’s Edge

  Part One

  By DelSheree Gladden

  Chapter One

  Red Fingerprints

  Gretchen’s body flew forward as her car fishtailed to a stop. Eyes clamped shut, it was impossible for her to tell whether she had stopped in time. She couldn’t bear to open them. What if she hadn’t? Her panicked breathing drew in the smells of exhaust and singed rubber, pushing her to open her eyes and get out of the car. Her racing heart and gasping breaths urged her to stay exactly where she was.

  Eventually, Gretchen pried her eyelids open and glanced out the windshield. She couldn’t see anything. Tears burned her eyes worse than the fumes. She had to get out and make sure. Her fingers slipped trying to grasp the door handle, but after a few tries she pushed it open, letting in another blast of the foul air.

  The staccato sound
of her heels clicking on the asphalt seemed to echo as she walked around to the front of the car. Crisp March air bit at her as she paused before reaching the front end. Her eyes begged her to close them again, fearing what they would see, but she forced them to stay open and search. Failing evening light cast long shadows, but the crumpled mass lying in the road was immediately visible. Gretchen’s breath caught and her fingers wiped away tears.

  “Please, no,” she whispered.

  The body lay a few feet in front of her car. She stepped closer then looked back at her front bumper. It looked as good as it ever had, which wasn't saying much, but relief swept through her. There was no blood, no new dents. It looked exactly the same.

  Gretchen hadn’t hit the crumpled body. She had stopped in time.

  Good brakes had kept her from crushing the figure, but the man looked as though he had already been through three or four accidents. The design of the torn up slacks and ruined loafers he wore were the only things that gave any hint it was a man. Every visible inch of skin bore bruises and blood, the swelling so bad in some places, Gretchen wasn’t sure they would ever heal. The shock of nearly hitting him finally began to wear off, freeing her mind enough to take action.

  Dropping down next to him, Gretchen pressed two fingers lightly against his neck. It was difficult to find the right spot, but she did feel a ragged pulse under his swollen skin. He was still alive somehow. Her finger came away bloody and left little red fingerprints on the screen of her phone as she dialed 911. Tears fell down her cheeks and mingled with the blood as she waited through two rings.