The Right Stud: a sexy romantic comedy

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  I settle for sending him a sheepish grin. I really have had the most incredible day with him and his nieces, and I’m not ready for it to end. I’m like a kid at the fall carnival who doesn’t want to get off the rollercoaster. Because Jax Roland is my rollercoaster. I feel euphoria when I look at him—I’m exhilarated but terrified at the same time. What if I fall off and break my neck? What if he sees a prettier girl at the fair and dumps me for her?

  Arggg. Why do I care so much?

  It’s my heart. My heart can’t handle anymore. Just seeing Monica today brought back the memories of how Kyle lied to me. God, I’m a basket case. One minute I want him and the next I’m scared to death.

  I toss his question back at him. “Are you happy?”

  A pensive expression crosses his face as he pulls his eyes from mine and looks off into the distance. “I think so.”

  “You think so? What does that mean?”

  He takes a deep breath, the inhalation causing me to notice his broad chest. He scratches at the afternoon shadow on his jawline. “I guess I haven’t really been happy in a long time. I mean, I thought I was, but here, I feel different. Maybe for the past few years I’ve just been… existing.”

  I suck in a little breath, trying to play it cool, but I can’t help but wonder what he means. “Can I ask you something?” I say.

  “Anything.”

  “I know it’s late in the game to even ask since we’ve already done the boom-boom, but you’re not… seeing anyone back in New York, right?”

  “Boom-boom?” He tosses his head back and a deep laugh erupts. “Ash, honey, call it like it was. It was fucking amazing.”

  I pretend to be offended. “Okay fine. We had glorious, mind-blowing, stupefying, inconceivable, staggeringly awesome sex.”

  “That’s much better.” He quickly sobers and lifts his hand to my face. Tilting my chin up, he stares deep into my eyes. “I’d never have slept with you if I was seeing anyone else. I’m not him.”

  “Kyle.”

  He nods. “He’s a fucking asshole and if I ever see him again…”

  I chew on my lip.

  “Don’t be having regrets about us, Ash.” There’s a vulnerability to him as he says the words, as if maybe he too is scared—although I can’t imagine about what.

  I remind myself we’ve only been together a few days, so why do I feel like I’ve known him my entire life? It’s as if we’ve always had a connection, and it took us meeting at the Smoky Siren for Fate to finally bring us together.

  “Come over here. Let me tell you a story.” He leads me to a bench in the grassy area just off the square. We stroll together and damn if it doesn’t feel like this is the way I’m supposed to be—with him on a lazy summer evening, walking and talking.

  We sit and his hand plays with my fingers. “You asked if I was happy, and the thing is, I’m not sure I know what happy is. I know what it isn’t. It isn’t my mother pushing me out of my own house when I was just a kid. That whole experience…it made me never want to come back here.”

  “So you love New York? You’re just a city boy through and through?”

  He shakes his head. “I do love the city. I dig how vibrant it is and the fact that I can leave my apartment at two in the morning and still find a damn good slice of pizza or a great cup of coffee.” He smirks. “I know I’m a tough guy with the hammer but I like to eat at five-star restaurants. I love The Met and Central Park. I like being around a lot of people. I thrive off of it. Probably because I’m an extrovert, and it’s how I get my energy.”

  “I’m not…”

  He puts a finger to my lips. “You didn’t let me finish.”

  I nod.

  “Being here for the past few days…soaking in all the scenery…” He sighs, and his gaze roams around, taking in one of my favorite historic houses on the square, a whitewashed two-story structure with beautiful Mediterranean blue hurricane shutters decorating the front. Deep window boxes stuffed with a riot of colorful flowers hang down from the top railing. He smiles a distant look on his face. “It feels different this time. I’m not thinking about my mom or how I can’t wait to shake the dust from this place off my feet. I feel alive here and that’s never happened.”

  Butterflies swarm in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s going to be hard to leave.” He moves in closer. “The truth is, South Carolina has never made me happy…until you.”

  Twenty

  Jax

  A little gasp comes from her, and I take the opportunity to press my lips to hers…softly.

  We kiss sweetly and her hand curls around my neck, fingers trailing through the hair at my nape. The kiss deepens and my hands brush over her breasts, seeking entry into the deep V of her dress.

  In the distance, a horn blows, and both of us pull back, our eyes clinging.

  I’ve loved kissing her since the moment we met, when I didn’t even know who she was. Now, all I want to do is keep kissing her, especially when she smiles at me the way she is now.

  A man in a suit on his cell walks past us, and I think of Ben. Shit. What the hell am I going to do about him? Do I really want to turn down a six-figure commission? Don’t I need that money?

  But…

  I glance down at Ash, taking in her wide eyes and the eagerness on her face “What?” she asks.

  “We need to talk about… something.” My stomach tightens. Doubt creeps into my mind, pushing out the good stuff and leaving a knot of worry.

  “Okay. What do we need to talk about?” Her head tilts to the side, and she’s just so adorable.

  I can’t do it now—not yet. Not while she’s looking at me, eyes glowing, like I’m her hero. She’s all in with me. Somewhere between lunch and the triplets, she’s decided to give me a shot, and I’m afraid I’m going to blow it.

  I shove that thought away. I do more than shove it away. Hell, I pack it up in a chest, put a lock on it, and throw it out to sea.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I change directions. “I want to know everything about you.”

  She chuckles. “Everything?”

  I nod. “Start at the beginning, the day you were born, how much you weighed and when you took your first steps.”

  A slow blush steals up her cheeks. “You’ll be bored. I’m just a small-town girl who grew up here and never wanted to leave. I know every cobblestone street in this square. I know the couple that lives in that bungalow.” She points to the older home with the flowers spilling off the balcony.

  “Who lives there?”

  “It’s the Potter family and believe it or not the husband’s name is Harry.”

  “Harry Potter? You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Is he married to Hermione?”

  She giggles. “No, but he does have short dark hair and wears these little round glasses. He’s the town doctor.”

  I smirk. “Dr. Harry Potter.”

  She points back to the house. “He has a son named Draco.”

  I burst out laughing. “Now you’re just pulling my leg.”

  She laughs along with me, tears of merriment glistening in her gaze. “Totally, but you should have seen your face when I said it.”

  I slip an arm around her shoulder, and we lean back and stare up at the sky. The sun is setting, and it’s obvious we have work to do back at the house. Still, neither of us is in a hurry to get to it.

  “I take it you’re a J.K. Rowling fan?”

  She nods. “You?”

  “Slytherin all the way, baby.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I should have known you’d be a snake in the grass.”

  I grin. “Let me guess. You’re a Hufflepuff?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “What gave it away?”

  “Because you’re beautiful, steady, and true.”

  Her mouth parts. “Oh.”

  “And after you called me a snake in the grass, I compliment you.”

  She playfully punch
es me on the shoulder. “Ah, can’t you take a joke? Everyone knows that Slytherins are really Type-A people who love control and want to dominate.”

  I rake my eyes over her. “You got that right. I do like my control.”

  She bites her lip. “You’re such a flirt!”

  “Only with you.”

  “Liar. You’re a total womanizer. Remember, I met you while you were on a date.” She’s teasing, of course, but I think I see a flicker of worry on her face as the words come out.

  “It was a set-up. A blind date to make my sister happy. That’s all.”

  “Right.” She nods, looking off into the distance, and I want to kick myself. I try to steer things back to her… to us.

  “I have an idea.”

  Her hazel eyes find mine.

  “Let’s head back to the house, hole up in my room and watch a movie.”

  “You really think we’re going to ‘watch a movie’?”

  I shrug. “Why not? It’s lady’s choice. Whatever you want.”

  She gets a glint in her eye. “I’ve really been hankering for Dirty Dancing—the original.”

  Oh, no. All that dancing and shit.

  My expression never changes.

  She squints at me. “And I mean really watch it. It’s one of the most romantic movies ever. It’s a must-see for any American.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, you don’t have to talk me into it. I watch Beauty and the Beast at least three times when I’m in town with the triplets. I think I can handle some smooth-talking Patrick Swayze.”

  “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” She studies my face, but I’m giving her my best poker face. “You don’t even know what that means, do you?”

  “No clue.”

  She’s crestfallen. “But it’s iconic! Even if you haven’t seen the movie, you’ve seen clips of it, right?”

  I shrug.

  “We need to make a list of romantic movies you haven’t seen, because I’m going to make you watch each and every one of them while you’re staying with me.” She pauses. “Have you see The Notebook?”

  “Is it a football movie?

  Her eyes roll. “Seriously, I have so much to teach you.”

  I grab her hand as we start walking. “Bring it.”

  We’re passing by someone who knows Ashton, and she stops to say hi. My phone pings again with a new text, and thankfully, Ashton doesn’t notice this time. I pull it out of my pants to check, and sure enough, it’s Ben.

  Been trying to call. Have you seen the house yet? I need to know the value ASAP. Call me.

  Fuck. The pressure is back, and I know I have to talk to Ashton about this. I’d intended do it after we left Bernice’s, but I got derailed by happiness and talking about New York and Harry Potter and boom-boom. Now we’re going back to watch a movie she’s all excited about—in my bed.

  Just tell her tomorrow.

  Tomorrow is a whole new day.

  I want this day—this night—to be perfect.

  Turning my phone off, I shove it deep into the pocket of my jeans as she turns.

  “Ready?”

  I nod, and we head to the car, our hands laced together.

  Twenty-One

  Ashton

  It’s after midnight, and I’m lying in Jax’s arms in his bed. He’s twirling a piece of my hair around his fingers, and our feet are tangled together as we rest on top of the duvet.

  Yeah, we never even made it to pulling back the sheets once we giggled our way up the stairs and into his room. After the first round of lovemaking, we made our way to the shower where Jax washed every single inch of me—with his tongue.

  God. That tongue.

  The man has talents.

  While part of me knows he probably got those talents from being with other women, I refuse to think about it and just focus on the moment. I'm done with waffling around and having second thoughts. I think…I think I’m all in with him. I want this thing we have. I want him even if it’s only for a week or so…but I don’t let my head go there. Our future is uncertain, yes, but all my chips are on the table. I pray I don’t lose everything.

  Dirty Dancing is on the TV across from the bed, and it’s the final big dance scene where Johnny and Baby are on stage. I peek up at Jax, and he’s watching with a wry smile on his handsome face. The song “Time of my Life” is playing, and the familiar beat makes me giddy. A huge smile is on my face.

  I teasingly pop him on the arm. “You’re judging my all-time favorite movie, aren’t you?”

  His piercing blue eyes find mine. “Maybe.”

  “But isn’t it so… perfect? The dresses are amazing, the hair styles are on point, and the cheesy dialogue is the best.” I pause. “And you have to admit, for an eighties movie, it covered some deep topics: abortion, divorce, social prejudices. Why, this movie was ahead of its time! It’s more than just a classic. It’s freaking art.”

  His chest moves just a little as he laughs, and I pout at him. Which only seems to make him chuckle more, making my head on his shoulder bounce.

  “You’re just jealous you don’t have moves like Patrick Swayze.” I throw him a side-eye, which is hard to do when you’re stark naked, and your body is pressed tight against the most magnificent male specimen alive. For a brief moment, I let my eyes eat up his tan chest, the dusting of curls there, the deep V where his hips meet his pelvis. God had definitely been on his A-game when he created Jax Roland.

  I pluck at one of his chest hairs and hold it hostage, making him yelp. “Come on,” I say. “Just admit that you love the damn movie.”

  “I love the movie,” he deadpans—then bursts out laughing.

  I scowl. “Now you’re really hurting my feelings. I mean, just look at Baby’s face! Look at Johnny’s. They’re in love…” I let out a sigh.

  Jax stops laughing and cups my cheek, turning me toward him until we’re eye-to-eye. Electricity crackles in the room, and I can feel this weird connection we have rising to the surface, igniting my instinct to once again let him completely devour me. My chest rises and my voice is whisper-soft. I say what’s in my heart. “I want someone to love me like he loves her.”

  A torn expression flits across his face, and his thumb strokes across my bottom lip. “You will, Ash.”

  My heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

  I think I want him to say, Because you’re my Baby, and I’ll be your Johnny…but he doesn’t.

  He curls a roped bicep around my shoulder and pulls me closer. “Because you deserve the fucking world.”

  Twenty-Two

  Ashton

  The next morning around six, I roll out of Jax’s bed, give him a quick snuggle and a hurried kiss—morning breath and all, since he refused to let me leave otherwise. With a quick murmur about getting breakfast started, I finally sneak out and tiptoe back to my room.

  Once I’m showered and dressed in a flowy yellow sundress, I head downstairs to make coffee and bake muffins. When Jax is ready to start today’s renovations, I’ll change into work clothes.

  Lost in thought, I don’t even hear Mrs. C enter the kitchen until Rufus flaps his wings and heads to his perch.

  I whip around, and she’s standing regally in the middle of the room wearing her multi-colored pajamaralls and a tropical printed turban. I blink at the brightness.

  “Mornin’!” She gives me a wide grin. “Did I hear Dirty Dancing last night?”

  I busy myself getting cups from the cabinet, only giving her a slight shrug.

  “I knew it!” she exclaims. “I can tell by that pleased as punch look on your face. That’s the second time you’ve gotten the Big D. Should I start making baby plans?”

  I gasp. “Really, Mrs. C?”

  She waves me off. “Mercury’s in retrograde. It makes us all horny. Even Rufus here. Why he squawked all night long. Once I even caught him grinding against the cage. Damn bird.”

  “Fuck!” comes from Rufus. “Bacon!”

  I sigh. Clearly I need to invest
in soundproofing upstairs. Maybe a noise machine in the hallway by the stairs.

  Does that mean you plan on having lots of sexy nights with Jax? my head asks.

  Yes. Yes, it does, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

  Mrs. C pulls open the fridge and grabs the container of already cooked bacon. Her face is all dreamy when she straightens. “I can just see the pretty babies you two would make. The pitter-patter of little feet is just what this old place needs.”

  “That’s silly!” My neck feels hot, and I turn quickly to hide the little smile trying to curl my lips. Jax would make the most beautiful babies…

  “Why?” She breaks the pork into small pieces, tossing a few to Rufus, who barely moves a muscle catching them. “It ain’t over til it’s over, and the way you two have been going at it…” She sighs. “Makes me miss Mr. C.”

  Rufus’s beady eyes are on me as he starts bobbing his body, his scratchy voice singing out “Time of my life.” I nearly giggle but bite it back. For once, I’m feeling rather affectionate toward the darn bird, so I give him a little smirk.

  “See, even he knows what’s going on. You’re fooling no one, so just admit it.” Mrs. C pours a liberal amount of creamer in her cup and stirs it.

  I plop down at the table and take a long sip of coffee. “He is something,” I sigh, unable to deny the happiness bubbling in my chest any longer. “I never thought I’d be able to trust a man again.”

  “Kyle is an asshole.” She straightens in her chair, nodding to me in a knowing way. “That man up there is hot as sin, and no one can blame you. You deserve it!”

  “What does she deserve?” The male voice is loud and a bit annoyed.

  Great. Ben is here.

  “Good morning to you, too.” I stand and breeze past him to the sink.

  I haven’t spoken to my brother since he was here a few days ago, and my feelings of anger still simmer just beneath the surface. “I didn’t hear the doorbell ring or I would have let you in.”