Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set

by Lilian Monroe

  “Well you have to come by for dinner one night. I have so much to tell you.”

  “I’m sure you do. Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” I turn towards the hotel entrance and slip inside before she can make any real plans with me. Dinner with Mary Hanson and the poor soul who’s marrying her sounds like my idea of Hell.

  The noise inside the hotel is loud. There’s a band on stage and people dancing like maniacs. The bar is packed with familiar faces and the whole place is decorated in balloons, garlands, and little lights on all the rafters.

  My eyes scan the room and a smile starts forming on my lips. I shake my shoulders and try to forget about Mary Hanson.

  She disappears from my head completely when someone steps beside me. I smell his cologne before anything else. It smells almost spicy, but with a surprising freshness. Like a magnet pulling my head, I turn to see the most incredible looking man I’ve ever seen in my life. I think he stepped out of GQ Magazine and into the Lexington Hotel by accident. My body tenses immediately and I can’t see anything but him.

  He’s staring at me with eyes the color of mahogany. His lips are plump and perfect, and there’s a hint of stubble over his strong jaw. His hair is dark brown and styled effortlessly.

  “Do I know you?” He asks, tilting his head slightly and then licking his lips.

  His words almost don’t register, because I’m too busy staring at his lips. They move just a bit when he speaks, and then spread into a small smile. His voice is as smooth as butter and it pierces through my chest and sends a thrill straight through my stomach.

  I clear my throat. “Uh, no. No I don’t think so.”

  “I’m Owen,” he says and his voice almost makes me fall over. He raises his hand towards me and on autopilot, I slip mine into it.

  “Jessica,” I reply. It comes out as a croak just as our palms touch. Another thrill goes down my spine and I inhale sharply. His hand is warm and wide and it covers my palm completely. His hands feel… not rough, exactly, but solid. We stay like that for a second that lasts an eternity until he smiles again.

  “Enjoy your evening, Jessica.”

  “Call me Jess. I will. Thanks. You too.”

  “Jess,” he replies as if he’s tasting my name in his mouth. My whole body buzzes as my name leaves his lips.

  His fingers slip away and he looks at me one last time before turning and weaving his way through the crowd. He’s a good six inches taller than most people, and as wide as a football player, but he slides through the crowd almost gracefully. It’s like they part around him like a school of fish around a shark without even noticing what they’re doing.

  I’m pulled out of my daze by another voice.

  “Jess! You met our sexy new mystery owner!” I smile and turn to see the familiar freckled face of my oldest and kindest friend.

  “I guess I did. How are you, Sam?”

  She wraps me in a hug and laughs. “It’s great to see you. You look amazing!”

  It’s my turn to laugh. “Doubt it, but thanks. Come on, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me everything I’ve missed.”

  She snorts. “That’ll be a quick conversation. You haven’t missed a thing.”

  I laugh as we turn towards the bar, and I can’t help glancing back towards the place in the crowd where Owen disappeared. My hand tingles where he touched it as I turn back towards Sam and smile. She’s right about one thing, he’s definitely mysterious, and undeniably sexy.

  3

  Owen

  I never thought moving to a small town would be easy but I didn’t think it would be this hard. It’s possible that New Yorkers might actually be more welcoming than this place. When I first arrived, news had travelled far that there was a new owner of the Lexington Hotel and I got the immediate sense that there were lots of people that weren’t too happy about it.

  Even tonight, with the whole town out to celebrate the grand re-opening, I see a lot of sideways glances.

  I’ve heard a lot of the rumors about me. I’m some billionaire, running away from a sordid past. They say my wife left me, or she died, or I killed her. They say I don’t have a wife, and that the loneliness drove me to leave New York. They say I stole my money and now I need someplace to bury it so the IRS don’t come after me.

  They say I coerced Gladys Carter into selling the hotel, but the truth is she approached my real estate agent. She was desperate to sell, and I saw an opportunity.

  That’s what I do.

  I take opportunities and I make them work. That’s how I made my money. That’s why I left New York. That’s why I’ll leave this place as soon as I see another opportunity.

  I’m not some dark, mysterious billionaire out to swindle kind townsfolk. I’m just a guy with a pocketful of cash and a particular skill at turning that into more cash. That’s my story whenever anyone asks, anyways.

  Sure, I’ve got skeletons in my closet, but who doesn’t? Whatever was going on in New York is behind me now.

  That blonde woman walks back into the hotel and our eyes meet for a brief second—what’s her name again? Mary something? She raises her hands and wiggles her fingers at me while batting her eyelashes. I dip my chin down slightly. For a woman that’s about to get married, she sure does throw a lot of glances around the room.

  I turn away from her and pray that she doesn’t come towards me. I lean against one of the old timber pillars that line the outside of the room and run my fingers through my hair. The townspeople love to gossip, but they certainly didn’t refuse an invitation. There’s people everywhere dancing, talking, drinking, shouting. You might even call tonight a success. My eyes scan the bar for the other woman, the one I’ve never seen before.

  Jess.

  That’s one name I won’t forget. There she is. She’s at the bar with another girl, the friendly freckle-faced girl that helped me when I got a flat tire last week. They’re laughing. Jess throws her head back and her whole body doubles over as she laughs at something the other girls said. She wipes a tear from her eye and I lean forward, as if I’d be able to hear what they’re saying from over here.

  Then, she lifts her eyes as if they were drawn to me. I can see that spark in them that I saw earlier. There’s a hint of a smile on her lips and all of a sudden it’s just me and her. I can’t hear the band, I can’t see a single other person or hear the shouting of two hundred voices. It’s just me and her, eyes locked on each other from opposite ends of the room.

  It feels like we’re on a moving train, and everything and everyone in the room is whipping past at a hundred miles an hour except for her. I can almost smell that floral perfume she was wearing.

  Then, she turns her head towards her friend and I’m rocked back into the real world. My heart’s racing and I blink three or four times. I realize I’m holding a bottle of beer and I bring the cold liquid to my lips.

  What just happened?

  I need to find out who she is.

  I can’t help myself. My eyes swing back towards her. One of the young guys from town is walking up to her and she greets him warmly. She opens her arms and they hug for what seems like an eternity. Jealousy starts curdling in my stomach as I watch them pull apart, and then she runs her hands over his arms. Everyone laughs and I wish I knew what it was about.

  They stop touching each other and my shoulders immediately relax. I turn away from them and take another angry sip of beer.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I don’t know this woman! I just learned her name three minutes ago. And now I’m jealous that she gave some guy a hug?? She seems to know everyone and has more people coming to say hello. She’s obviously been away and has just come back—of course she’d hug everyone. They’re probably her childhood friends, for Christ’s sake.

  Fuck me.

  I’m being ridiculous. I turn around and walk towards the back. I need to get out fo this room, to get away from her and stop fucking staring at her.

  I stalk to the back of the room, weaving
between people and finally making it to the narrow door that says “Staff Only”. I push it open and step through, closing it behind me with a slam. I slump onto my office chair and put my head in my hands.

  This isn’t me.

  Women don’t have that effect on me. Jealous?? Of some redneck country boy?? Over some woman I literally don’t even know?!

  This isn’t why I came here. I came here to get away from New York, to get away from my family’s business and try to start something for myself. I didn’t come here to get involved with anyone in this tiny town.

  I need to get a grip. I take a couple deep breaths and blow all the air out of my lungs. There’s a stack of invoices next to my computer that need to be sorted, so I pick up the first one and fire up my laptop. Nothing like some boring old numbers to cool me down after… whatever it was that just happened to me out there.

  4

  Jess

  “Do you remember the day that I caught that frog and you were so worried about it that you stole it and set it free behind my back?” Sam’s brother, Cory, laughs. “You were so worried about that little thing!”

  “It was an innocent animal!” I protest, laughing. “You were going to hold it hostage for who knows how long! And probably torture it, you psychopath.”

  “And the truth didn’t come out until about five years later,” Sam adds. She shakes her head and grins at me. “You always had a bleeding heart, Jess.”

  “That’s me,” I respond with a laugh. “Empathy is my middle name. Or it was, until I moved to New York and became an asshole.”

  “Stop it, Jess,” Cory says with a grin. “You’re just the same as you were when you arrived in Lexington. Just a scared little girl at heart.”

  I smack his arm and laugh. “Shut up Cory. Don’t you have some girls to go annoy or are you going to hang around with your sister and her friends the whole night?”

  “You’re right, I’m wasting time. Better make the rounds. You comin’ around for dinner tomorrow night? Mom’s making a roast beef.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I respond. He leans in to kiss my cheek and then turns towards the room.

  “Your brother hasn’t changed a bit,” I say as I turn to Sam. I take a sip of the cheap beer in my hand as Sam laughs.

  “Not one bit. He never will,” she replies, shaking her head and watching as he sits down at a table full of women uninvited. “Don’t know how we came out of the same woman, to be honest.”

  She turns towards me and gives me a grin. My eyebrows shoot up.

  “What!”

  She raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of the brown bottle of beer in her hand. “Seems like you’ve got an admirer.”

  I laugh and shake my head, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw you two looking at each other from across the room.”

  “Who!” I exclaim, knowing exactly who she’s talking about.

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about, Jessica Lee.” She says it just like Gram used to say when I was in trouble, with the same head shake and finger wag. I laugh.

  “What! We just happened to make eye contact. Pff. Admirer,” I say, staring down at my bottle.

  “Happened to make eye contact?!” She exclaims. “Please. Happened to make eye contact and then happened to keep staring at each other for all of eternity. I was practically ready to leave by the time you finished.”

  “Stop it,” I say, still laughing. “Who is he anyways? He told me his name was Owen.”

  “Oh so you’re on a first name basis now, are you? Moving a bit quickly, don’t you think?”

  “Shut up, Sam,” I say with a laugh. She grins and I see those little dimples on either side of her cheeks that I used to be so jealous of. “What’s his story, anyways?”

  “No one really knows,” she says, glancing around the room. I follow her gaze and realize he must have disappeared somewhere when I wasn’t looking. I frown as Sam continues. “He bought the place up without even seeing it, and then showed up and started renovating it. No one even knew it was up for sale before construction started. Caused quite the stir.”

  “I can imagine. People don’t like change around here.”

  “They sure don’t, unless that change is a wedding or a baby.”

  “So he’s from New York?”

  “That’s what they say. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about him, but I wouldn’t pay attention to them. Mary Hanson told me he’d killed his wife and was running from the police.”

  I snort. “She did not.”

  “She did. I had that same reaction and asked her if she thought buying the only hotel for fifty miles was a good way of laying low. She just walked away and hasn’t said a word to me in two weeks.”

  I laugh. “You’re better off.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Sam responds with a grin. She checks her watch and sighs. “I’d better go. Ma’s not doing great at home on her own, so I’ll have to help her into bed. You’re coming for dinner for sure tomorrow? Bring your grandmother over as well.”

  “I will,” I respond and give Sam a warm hug. “It’s good to see you, Sam.”

  “Good to see you too. Behave yourself now, you hear me?”

  “I’ll try,” I respond with a laugh. She winks at me and slips away through the crowd. I lean back against the bar and take another sip of my drink, trying to figure out if I’m happy to be back or not. It’s nice to see familiar faces, but I can feel the onslaught of memories starting to creep in. Suddenly the room seems stuffy, or overly crowded. I finish my beer and head towards the washrooms. Maybe I just need to splash some water on my face.

  5

  Owen

  I type the last invoice into my spreadsheet and file the paper away. With a sigh, I hit ‘save’ and lean back in my chair. It’s probably time to go make some rounds again and try to interact with these people. They already think I’m an outsider, isolating myself with work while everyone is drinking and having fun will only make it worse.

  My chair drags on the floor as I push it back and I close the laptop screen as I get up. The muffled noise of the band gets suddenly louder as I pull the office door open. Just as I’m about to step out into the main room, a body crashes into mine and I stumble backwards.

  “Oh! Sorry! I thought this was the bathroom! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It’s okay! Are you okay?”

  It’s her. It takes me a few seconds to regain my composure. I take a step back and stare at her flushed face. She glances at me and then away.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry. I thought this was the bathroom,” she says again. “I haven’t been here in a few years.”

  We fall silent for a few moments and she swings her eyes back to me. We just stare at each other for a few breaths.

  “So are you from here?” I ask slowly. She hasn’t made a move to leave and every atom in my body is screaming for her to stay. I take a step back and pick up a bottle of whiskey off the shelf. I lift it up towards her and raise an eyebrow.

  The hint of a grin spreads on her face. She nods her chin down a fraction of an inch and takes a step inside before closing the door behind her.

  “Yeah, I grew up here from the time I was seven. Left for New York a few years ago and I come back once in a while to see my grandma.”

  I nod. “I lived in New York for years.” I pull out two tumbler glasses and pour a bit of whiskey in them. “I don’t have ice over here, sorry.”

  She shrugs and takes one of the glasses, clinking it against mine. I lean back against the desk and bring the glass up to my lips. She takes a sip and grimaces. “I’ll never get used to that taste.”

  She sits down across from me and crosses her legs. Her jeans are skin-tight, hugging every curve of her body perfectly. She tilts her head to the side.

  “So I hear you’re a wife murderer, here to run away from the police. Or is it the IRS you’re running from? I can’t remember.”

  I laugh. “One or the other.
I never knew I’d done such horrible things until people started telling me about them.”

  She chuckles and takes another sip. “It’s one of the reasons I left. The rumor mill in this place is insatiable. They can be very cruel.”

  Her face darkens for a moment and then she shakes her head. I want to ask her what happened but the words catch in my throat. Before I can say anything she waves a hand around and grins.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “It’s amazing what a few lights and some paint will do,” I respond. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of grief I’ve gotten over it though. You’d have thought I tore down the whole thing and put in a high rise.”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “That’s one thing around here you’ll have to get used to. People are more afraid of change than they are of dying.”

  “That’s probably true of most places,” I respond. I take another sip and watch her over the rim of my glass. Her tank top is clinging to her body and all I want to do is run my fingers over her stomach. Her collarbone is calling out to me, begging to be tasted. I take a deep breath and move my eyes to meet hers.

  “Why do you look at me like that?” She asks. The question surprises me.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you just did. You look at me like… I don’t know. Like you’re noticing every detail. You’re intense.”

  “Intense,” I repeat. “I haven’t gotten that one before.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  How could I not avoid the question? What would I say? That I’m looking at her like I want to wrap my arms around her and taste those perfect lips of hers? Maybe I could tell her that her body is making my cock throb or that I haven’t been this aware of my heartbeat in years.

  “I’m observant,” I finally reply.

  She laughs, and once again I’m surprised. “I get why people around here think all kinds of things about you.”