Naughty but Nice: A Best Friend's Dad Christmas Romance

by Rye Hart

  I dropped my phone and it clattered to the floor as I fumbled with it in my hurry to close the door behind me. I turned and practically ran down the hallway, my stomach churning and the taste of vomit in my throat after seeing what I'd just witnessed. My father, a man who stood firmly for family values and railed against anybody and everybody for a lack of them, was banging his mistress. In his office. On his desk.

  I heard the office door behind me open and close, and my father's voice called out to me.

  “Vanessa, wait, it's not what you think. ”

  Holding my hands up, I turned to him and said, “Oh, it's not? Because geeze, dad, it sure looked like you were banging someone who is clearly not your wife on your desk.”

  “Okay, maybe it is what you think,” he said, scratching his face. His pants were still mostly unzipped, his tighty whiteys poking out of the zipper. I was absolutely disgusted, and would need some eye bleach to get that image out of my head. But more than that, I felt betrayed. For so long, I'd thought my father had a strict moral compass. He spoke so fiercely and passionately about values and the importance of loyalty and fidelity.

  And to find out it was all a lie? It felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

  “I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you,” I seethed. “You, of all people. After all the shit you've given Carter about his supposed immorality over the years – ”

  “That's different,” my dad countered. “I mean, I'm discrete with my flings and don't shove them in everybody's face at least.”

  “Oh, right. Just because you're discrete means it doesn't count, right?” I hissed. “At least Carter is honest about who he is. Does Andrea know about this?”

  “No, she doesn't,” my dad said, sounding defeated. “And please don't tell her. It would kill her, Vanessa.”

  “Yeah, well maybe you should have thought about that before you started fucking some tramp in your family's home,” I said. “And you want to know the worst part of this whole shitstorm, Dad? It's that I actually believed in you. I honestly thought you were the real deal when it came to practicing what you preach.”

  I turned to leave before my dad could see me crying. I had a meeting with Dylan about my Congressional campaign ,something that before I'd walked in on him banging his mistress, I couldn't wait to announce to my father. But now, seeing what a hypocrite he was, I couldn't even bare to look at him, much less share my good news.

  I stormed out of the mansion just as Andrea came home from doing some shopping. She looked at me with a concerned expression on her face.

  “Are you okay, dear? Is it Carter again?” she asked. “What has he done now?”

  “It's not Carter,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Believe it or not, your son is actually trying to get his shit together. He's taken a lot of positive steps, Andrea. You should be proud of him.”

  Andrea looked pleased to hear that. Carter had gone to rehab – his own choice – and I couldn't have been prouder of him. I felt sorry for Andrea. But also felt torn between telling her the truth or letting my father get away with his lies. She was, after all, like a mother to me. She'd always been kind.

  But I didn't have to say a word because my father's mistress came prancing out of his office, almost running toward the front door, barely even dressed, with my father behind her. His pants were still undone, and when he saw Andrea, his eyes grew large, his expression tinged with panic.

  He tried the infamous line again, “It's not what it looks like,” but Andrea wasn't stupid.

  At times, I thought maybe they were married on paper only, that there was no love between them, but the look on her face told me I was wrong. I walked away, leaving my father to clean up his own mess. I could hear them fighting as I walked to my car, and in the back of my mind I thought – she's going to go to the press. His career was over.

  All this time, I was focused on anything but myself. I didn't allow myself to live my life the way I wanted because of him. Out of fear about the impact my decisions would have on him and his career. I didn't want to make him look bad. But he'd just done a damn fine job of that on his own.

  Even though I was mad, I found myself laughing to myself as I drove away.

  I was free. I was finally free to be me.

  ooo000ooo

  I stared at the headline, but couldn't bring myself to read the article. My father lost the election. Not only did he lose his chance at the Senate – and a future presidential run – but he no longer held his Congressional seat either.

  No, he hadn't lost because of the affairs; that was just the tip of the iceberg. Once Andrea went to the press after learning he'd been cheating on her, it wasn't long before my dad's mistress, Kelly, had been paid for plenty of interviews as well.

  And it turned out that while she was currently eighteen years old, apparently their relationship started well before she was legal. After that, even more women came out of the woodwork. Some of them were probably fakes, but some had compelling stories that made me believe what they said to be true.

  My dad was in a world of hurt, and he deserved everything that had happened to him.

  “It's a shame,” Dylan said as he handed me a cup of coffee. We were waiting at a nearby coffee shop for Carter to be released from rehab. “I really believed in him too.”

  “A lot of people did,” I said, closing up the newspaper and putting it back on the table. “Do you think this will hurt my chances?”

  “Not if I have my way it won't. The sins of the father shall not hurt the daughter,” he said. “Because you've been your father's biggest critic, I actually think this could work in your favor. You've been doing more interviews, speaking about how even you were fooled by the lies. I think you'll be just fine. The people feel for you, Vanessa, they don't hate you.”

  “It's impossible to hate her,” a voice piped up from behind me. I smiled before I even had a chance to turn around and see his face. “She's fucking amazing.”

  “Carter,” I said, standing up to hug him. “Watch your mouth.”

  He kissed me, and I didn't even flinch. Yes, we were in public and some tabloids were talking about our relationship. But with Dylan's guidance and coaching, we answered those questions up front and honestly. Dylan had really helped us and put us at ease about being together.

  And let's face it, our romance paled in comparison to my dad's ridiculous sexcapades. Ours was a boring non-story by comparison and the media chose to focus on him instead.

  “How was it?” I asked, noting his shorter, cleaner haircut.

  “It's rehab, what do you expect?” he said. “I'm not going to be fixed overnight, obviously.”

  “No one ever is,” I said.

  Even though his past drug abuse could cause health problems in the future, one of my many stances was on more supportive care for addicts and alcoholics. It was something I could now speak about based on my own personal experience, a message that resonated with a lot of people.

  “I'm proud of you, Carter.” I said. “I really am.”

  “We both are,” Dylan added. “You went through a rough patch there and you've come out the other side. Congratulations.”

  We sat down at the table, hand-in-hand.

  “Enough about me,” Carter said. “I want to hear all about you. I saw you announce your intent to run. It was a damn good speech.”

  “Yes, yes it was,” Dylan said. “Vanessa is the future of this country, Carter. And if you love her, you need to stay clean and stay out of trouble. Think you can do that?”

  “I think I can handle that,” he said, kissing my hand.

  For the first time, after so many excuses and promises, I knew he meant it. It might not always be easy and our life might not be perfect, but at least we were honest with each other, and we were together.

  And at the end of the day – win or lose – that was all that mattered to me.

  Hot Bastard Next Door

  A Boy Next Door, Second Chance Romance

  CHAPTER ONE - DUN
CAN KELLEY

  Last night must have been one wild ride.

  The woman next to me was growing hotter by the second and not because of her looks, but because her body heat was more than I could stand. I pulled back the covers and let in some air, exposing her tight little ass in the process.

  Sure, she was hot, but things wouldn’t go any further with her than the sex we’d had the night before. Though she was a nice girl, her personality left a lot to be desired. I needed a woman that had talent aside from giving good head, and passion for something other than how to spend my money. I wasn’t in the market for a girl who acted like the only reason she existed was to please me. Don’t get me wrong, there was a time when that much would have been appealing, but I’d learned well enough that it only goes so far. At the end of the day, I wanted someone I could stand talking to about nothing in particular; someone who might have an opinion other than what they thought I wanted to hear.

  Even the absence of the covers wasn’t making things any better with the inferno curled up against me. I slid away from her and sat up hoping she’d wake up soon so I could show her the door. I had a few things I needed to take care of today and playing host to another one-night-stand wasn’t on the list.

  The phone rang and as I went to silence it, Katherine rolled over and opened her eyes. I got up and headed to the bathroom with my phone.

  “Hello,” I said as I took care of my morning duties.

  “Do you have to answer the phone while you’re taking a piss, Duncan?” My sister’s tone was as always grating at that time of morning.

  “Yes. It’s not my fault you called and woke me up.” I had told her for years to stop calling when the crickets were still chirping, but she had never gotten the hint. Katherine walked in once I was finished and turned on the shower.

  “Want to join me?” she asked with a whisper.

  I shook my head, but Shauna was already onto me. “Duncan Kelley, you’ve got company? This time of morning? You’ll never change.”

  “What’s so bad about that?” I made my way to the kitchen where I washed my hands at the sink and then started a pot of coffee before grabbing a bagel.

  “What’s so bad? Oh, so I suppose I will be meeting the lovely lady? What’s her name, Lexi? Roxie? Vixen? Dancer? Prancer?”

  Despite my sister’s accusations, I hadn’t graced a strip club in some time.

  “No, there won’t be any meeting, and her name is Katherine.” I hated that my sister felt the need for me to explain my lifestyle. I was a bachelor and ex-SEAL, and I’d earned my right to live any damned way I wanted. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to fall in love. I’d given up my heart years ago and other than amazing sex, I didn’t have much to offer.

  She made a sound of aggravation, and it rattled through the phone. “I just think—”

  “I know what you think, Sis, and you swore to me that we wouldn’t talk about that.”

  “You mean her.”

  I froze, and my coffee turned bitter in my mouth. Not only had my sister promised not to nag me about my social life, but we’d sworn years ago not to talk about my old relationship with her best friend, Rachel Dean.

  “Yeah, that and other things, but I suppose since you brought her up there’s no harm in me asking how she is.” I had often wondered what she turned up doing. Had she married, had children? The hollow spot in my chest grew tender.

  “You mean you really want to know?” My sister had never forgiven me for leaving things with Rachel the way I had, but I had never taken the time to explain things to her. Rachel was too young to devote her life to me. When I was preparing to leave for the military, she was only a sophomore, and I hadn’t wanted her to put her dreams on hold for mine. She had so much talent and life in her that I knew she’d have a great future ahead. Her father knew it too and had his plans all laid out for her. As much as I regretted to this day what I’d done, the way I’d done it would haunt me to my dying day. She’d deserved so much better.

  He’d been the town’s leading attorney, so naturally, he’d wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps. But I could never see it, not my Rachel. She was too much a free spirit to be cooped up in a courtroom. She needed a paintbrush in one hand and a book in the other. She was going to be so much more, and waiting for me was never an option.

  “Yeah, so is she a powerhouse attorney like her old man wanted?” Her adventurous spirit and artistic dreams were more fitting for a gallery or a trip around the world, always had been.

  “She’s fine. Just fine. But that’s not what I called to talk to talk to you about.”

  And just like that, the conversation about Rachel was over, as usual. I had asked for it though. I’d been the one who wanted to keep my memories preserved, and the tiny pieces of whatever lay hardened and stone-like in that dark cavity where my heart should be left untouched.

  “So, spill it, I haven’t got all day, I’ve got to run Katherine out so I can salvage what’s left of my weekend.” With any luck at all, I’d make nine holes and get my car washed and diapered dry.

  “You’re impossible. I thought you might like to know that there’s a new job opening up. Harris called me about it last night. It’s perfect for you.” Her fiancé, Harris Connor had helped me land some of my more eccentric clients, but the money had always out-weighed the drama that came with them.

  “Yeah, well all my guys are tied up in contracts. So, it will have to be me.” We’d been so busy lately that I’d had to start taking on jobs again instead of only managing the business. I didn’t mind doing a job or two, as long as it was something interesting. Harris’ connections usually were.

  She let out a breath. “Yes, I remember you saying that. This one is tailor-made for you. I wouldn’t want you trusting it to just anyone.”

  I gave a sound of displeasure. “It better be good and not some spoiled rich kid’s birthday weekend this time. I mean it, Shauna, I’m still picking glitter out of my hair, and that was months ago.”

  She giggled, and I could picture the look on her face on the other end of the line. “No, this is much better. You’d be working with one of the studios in Hollywood. Harris will tell you more about it. He said to meet with him Tuesday, and he’ll give you the details. And be nice to him. He said you intimidated him the last time.”

  Her fiancé was a good guy, but he needed to toughen up a bit. “I didn’t do anything. If he’s going to act like a snowflake, he’s bound to feel intimidated..”

  “Be nice,” Shauna scolded. “You know he’ll be family soon.”

  “I suppose you set a date then? Finally?” My sister had been stringing Harris along for years, and that gaudy ring of hers was already starting to look outdated.

  “Not quite, but soon, I promise. Who knows, if this job goes right maybe Harris will let you be the best man.” She let out another giggle, and this time it seemed as if she were up to something.

  “Fine. But he better be nice to me. I’ll be the one walking you down the aisle.” I was more than ready for that honor to be mine.

  “Duncan, please.” Her sweet tone hit my soft spot.

  “I’ll try to be good. I can’t help but look like a mean bastard, though.” It was the dark hair, light eyes, and tattoos that gave me that infamous deadly look. All of my SEAL brothers had envied it, but Harris was too soft to appreciate it. It was perfect for my line of work though.

  “You could shave off that goatee. Not that you aren’t stunningly handsome with it, but you do seem a bit less intimidating without it.” She had always liked me cleanly shaven and said I looked like our dad that way, which was all the more incentive to grow my goatee.

  “I like the intimidating look. It pays the bills.” I put that goatee to work.

  “Fine, Tuesday morning,” she said, and then she hung up the phone.

  I turned around to see Katherine standing in nothing but her towel, which she had wrapped loosely around her waist, her bare breasts still glistening and her nipples tight and rosy. �
�What’s for breakfast?” Her chest heaved as she stared into my eyes and as my cock stiffened, I had a pretty good idea what was on the menu.

  I could send her away later.

  CHAPTER TWO - RACHEL DEAN

  I raked my hands through my hair and rested my head against my palm as I looked over the list before me. I had been adding to the list all morning and now had a clear vision in my head of what the stage needed to look like. I’d get the preliminary sketches to the producer by the end of the day, but first I needed to make sure I had everything I’d need to pull it off.

  I glanced up at Jeffery. “What about the funhouse mirrors?” We had contacted a prop company that had the ones we wanted, and I was hoping that they’d be available.

  “We got them, and the spinning wheel too, but I’m still not sold on the color. It looks too much like a child’s princess party, and I think we should stay darker.”

  “It’s pink?” I began to panic. I hadn’t even noticed. Pink would not work at all. This was supposed to be a circus freak show theme, not my pretty princess.

  Jeffery nodded his head. “I told you it was pink with glitter. I even showed you a photograph. Do you want me to cancel the spinner?”

  “Oh, the spinner is pink?” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you meant the mirrors. Yes, scratch that spinner, and we’ll look for something else. I’d like a few touches of black and white in the madness of color, and that spinner might have to be a custom in black and white if we can’t find something else.”

  “Okay, scratch the pink glitter nightmare. I’ll look for something in black and white. The mirrors, which are candy apple red, are a go. You’ve had three calls today do you still want me to monitor your phone?”

  “Only if it’s my father or that creep from last week.” I got the chills just thinking about that freak. He’d make the perfect prop for this new job.

  “You’re dating?” Jefferey’s perfect brows lifted.

  “No, you’re slipping. Greg, that man from the last job. He’s trying to ask me out, but there’s no way in hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have duct tape, garbage bags, and a saw in his trunk.”