Damon said, “I like getting what I want. Sue me. By the way, we upgraded your honeymoon suite as a wedding present.”
My heart constricted. I didn’t want favors. “With what?”
It sounded like Damon pounded his fist into something. “The honeymoon package. What the fuck did you think I meant?”
Anger was another reason to keep Bradley away from the family. I saw Olivia’s bright smile across the field, and my heart swelled. Unlike the family I’d been born into, Olivia was sweet. And her family’s closeness was apparent. I’d once thought people like her were fictional, but she was absolutely real.
I swallowed and said, “Nothing. I have to go.”
Max said, “Have fun, baby brother. Can’t wait to meet the new bride at Christmas.”
We said our goodbyes, and I returned to my life. I was a normal doctor with a family and responsibilities. Olivia had helped me see that my life was full of love.
I hugged her as I joined her, and she asked, “Are you okay?”
The anger in my body faded, and I said, “My brothers upgraded our stay to the honeymoon package, which means the extra wine and strawberries that you said you weren’t that interested in.”
“That’s sweet of them. They didn’t know I just wanted to be alone with you.” Her lips were sweeter than any wine might be. She pressed them together and stared at me, tossing her head toward Dr. Munz. “Your boss is waiting for us.”
Right. I’d promised that if we could leave early, we would. We went over to him, and I held out my hand to shake his. “Dr. Munz, this is my wife, Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dr. Munz said to her. After one of the nurses snapped our picture, he continued. “We are all happy for you both.”
Olivia answered, “Thank you. Tonight, we’re flying to Hawaii. I’m excited.”
Dr. Munz handed us both champagne flutes and said, “That sounds great. And be sure to rest up, because when you get back, the staff want you to be chief. Let me know if you change your mind and want to take the chief position.”
I had everything I’d ever wanted—a job where I belonged, a great son, and Olivia. I clinked glasses with her and said, “Thank you. But find someone else. I’m just happy that Olivia chose to be my wife. And I want to spend time with my family.”
“She’s lovely. Go and be with your family.”
Finally, he left. My chest puffed out. For the first time in my life, I was happy, and it was all because of the woman beside me. She made me whole.
I kissed her and didn’t care that people cheered for us. As soon as everyone stopped focusing on us, I directed Olivia behind a tree.
I’d had her every night that week, but I needed a taste to get me through the rest of the afternoon. Our plans changed slightly so now we would go home. She held my hand, and sparks rushed through my veins.
Once we were alone, I pressed my lips to hers and held her tight. The feeling of her supple body pressed to mine got better every time. She was sweeter than any champagne. Soon we would be home, and I would taste her everywhere.
It was funny that sex wasn’t as important as I’d once believed. I loved her and believed in “happily ever after,” and nothing was ever going to change my mind.
Thank you for reading Cocky M.D. I hoped you loved Johnny, Olivia and Bradley as I did. I’ll talk more in the end of book stuff but I wanted to mention right now that you can finish with the Steel girls and follow Jane Austen loving Stephanie to London and read her story next month in Scottish Seducer.
Scottish Seducer Unedited Preview
Stephanie Steel
London smelled a little wet. And I couldn’t quite see the sun, but honestly, I still kept my chin up. Pittsburgh wasn’t much better in the spring. Days upon days of misty rain have always been my normal.
So I kept my head up and strode into Pure Industries and up to the third floor, where I now worked in acquisitions. Well, worked was probably a strong word for what I did, but someone needed to keep files and paperwork in order.
One day maybe I’d head home and settle down, but I wasn’t ready. Here, so close to where Jane Austen amazing world where she lived and wrote her wonderful novels, my life was almost exactly what I always wanted, living as much as possible in the Regency era.
The Jane Austen ball in Bath had been amazing as always.
And my role on the committee for next year was to entice more Americans to visit. So I’d finally cracked into the upper echelons of my fandom and was now running things.
This was why I lived in London. The job was just to pay the bills so I could spend my fun time in Jane Austen’s world.
That morning I was busy typing away at my desk, quite sure the past was never coming back to haunt me. But at noon my sister in Pittsburgh, who always called as soon as she woke up, rang like clockwork, despite having just returned from her honeymoon.
After hellos, Olivia immediately asked, “How was the masked ball?”
Good thing it was lunchtime. I took my phone to the break room no one used with the refrigerator born to a different generation of people and no windows.
I slumped into the plastic seat with the nondescript white table and said, “I’ll have to spend a week mending that rip in my last good costume.”
But the ball had been amazing when I’d been named on the committee. I’d been attending for five years now and finally made it as a volunteer. The ten days in Bath where we costumes and thousands of people pretended we lived in an alternative world where the simplicity of whisk or one dance alone might take a half an hour replayed in my mind. London was my base because my friends and I easily slipped into our fandom and wore our hand stitched dresses with glee. I was determined my muslin gown next year would practically shine and be brand new.
Olivia asked, “Do you need anything?”
Never cry at family weddings, even if I’m the only single one left. For now I checked the door to make sure no one was listening and said, “I’m great. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
Olivia’s voice was calm when she said, as usual, “You don’t have to pretend. We can wire you money until that new roommate shows up.”
Damn. I thought my day was going great. No one—till now—had brought up my failures, but this was one step closer to reminding me that I absolutely had to mail back the diamond ring. Ann, my ex-roommate, and Richard, my ex-fiancé, needed to stay away from me. I might prefer to act like a lady of old, but cheating was cheating and I half wanted to toss both of them in the Atlantic ocean to never be seen again.
I let out a sigh and said, “I’ll be fine. I’m not a charity case just because my ex left.”
Olivia tsked—a sound she must have perfected when she was a teacher, before she married a billionaire doctor. “Don’t be prideful. One day soon you’ll find a good man of your own.”
I rolled my eyes. Enough of this nonsense. “Because every woman must want a husband.”
She laughed at me. “Falling for the wrong British guy is no excuse for changing Jane Austen.”
Right. The same island that created Richard also gave me the men of my dreams. Mr. Darcy. Mr. Knightly. Colonel Brandon. Mr. Bingley. And of course Edward Ferrars.
Jane Austen never created the brawny cowboy-type hero in her novels that changed my life, but they were all charming, sweet, misunderstood men with faults but also greatness.
My sister knew exactly when to bring up the Wisdom of Jane Austen, so I let out a sigh and said, “You’re right. I should get going as lunch is almost over. A new boss is coming in today, and I don’t want him to find me talking about husbands and weekend costumes.”
Real life never measured up to my dreams, but I headed back to my desk and my boss, Margot Fletcher, ten years my senior, who likes to pretend she’s upper management because she had her degrees now. She waved me over to her desk before I even reached mine.
I adjusted my boring black size-twelve skirt that went to my knees...careful not to give her a reason to pick on
my clothes...and scurried over. The second I approached she said, “There you are, Stephanie.”
I steeled my spine as best I could. Sure, my last name is Steel, but I’m not like my strong sisters. I’m the one with my nose in a book and I never knew how to talk to Margot on days she was rejected for a promotion. Hopefully that wasn’t today, but I took a breath, ignored the spike in my pulse, and asked, “Did something happen?”
She gave me a curt nod, like she was telling me something important I probably should already know and said, “The new boss isn’t coming today.”
I sighed out the breath backed up in my lungs and forced a bigger smile. “Oh, good. I wasn’t ready for more drama in my life.”
She rolled her eyes at me like I was an idiot. I managed to ignore the knots in my stomach from her reprimand until she said, “We need you to take the train up to Scotland and drive his car back.”
Our billionaire CEO, whose papers I filed all day every day, now thought he’d send me, a file clerk with no office, to pick up his car and drive it to London.
“Chauffeur” wasn’t in my job description, so I asked, “Why can’t he use a courier service?”
Her eyes widened. “Because he has you.”
I crossed my arms like this job was beneath me. “I’m a clerk here.”
She handed me a manila folder. “And he’s the founder and CEO, and he’s paying.”
I lowered my arms. This wasn’t the worst thing in my life. I’d drive a nice car for a few hours and then head home. I opened the envelope to find directions, a set of keys, and tickets with a one-night hotel stay, as I said, “Okay. Thanks.”
I headed to my desk and read my job description. At least this paid a bonus. Margot Fletcher probably didn’t want this gig because she’d rather go home to her family once the day ended.
The money was enough to pay the rent until I found a new roommate. So I nodded to reassure myself that all would be well. I’d soon fix my immediate problem in one night.
Margot even let me out an hour early so I might pack. I practically bounced as I strode to the Tube and then got out at my stop, humming as I walked along until I made it to my flat.
Someone had left a key in the door.
My heart raced. Burglers don’t use keys so I didn’t run away and I pushed on the half-open door. I heard panting and my ears burned in recognition. I half backed out, but I lived alone. Adrenaline rushed in my veins the second I saw an ass with the star on the right cheek. He’d broken my damn heart, months ago. I’d believed he was my other half, my pretend best friend who’d enjoyed the Jane Austen reenactments and bought his own costumes.
A moment later the perky breasts of my former roommate followed him out and they both stared at me.
Heat swamped my cheeks and I swallowed. Unlike them, I was in my bones an American, and I wasn’t going to abandon the small place I called home. So I ignored my goose bumps and pretended I was heartless like them. “Richard? Ann? I thought you’d both left for Belgium.”
I put my bag down and snatched my water bottles of out their hands. They hadn’t paid for anything here in weeks.
Ann covered herself a little and said quickly, “I came to get my things. I didn’t think you’d be home.”
My sister Indigo would read them the riot act if she was me. I put the waters back and wished I was as strong as Indigo when I said, “So you thought, let’s fuck one more time in the old bed that we no longer pay for.”
Richard placed his hand on my shoulder. “Stephanie, don’t be jealous.”
Ann went to her old room. I smacked his hand off me. “I’m so not.”
I bolted to the door, got Ann’s old key, and slapped it down on my table. “You’ve had your fun in my place, so get the fuck out.”
My heart hammered as Richard sneered at me.
“That’s not polite.”
Ann tossed his pants at him. I didn’t move at all except to fold my arms in front of me and say, “I’m not British. Now go, and never darken my doorstep again.”
While Richard finished dressing, I noticed Ann was clutching her small box of things I ignored when I decided not hurl everything she owned out the window at them back when I found them, exactly like this—only that time I was wearing his ring.
This time he had the gall to say, “You know, you could have joined us.”
My stomach twisted. “Eeeeww.” But then I held up my hand and said, “One moment.” I darted to my apparently untouched room, grabbed the ring box, darted back out, and tossed it at him, saying, “Now Ann gets all my worthless things.”
Well, that wasn’t true. I’d almost pawned it for 500 pounds to pay this month’s rent, but the universe rescued me just this morning.
They left and my entire body burned for minutes after I’d heard the door closed. Once I calmed down, I packed my overnight bag.
In another life, this trip would be the adventure where I met a great guy and laughed at my ridiculous year, but my dreams were usually just that. Silly dreams I’d written in my diary that never came true.
Once I finished packing, I glanced around my small abode and deflated a bit. I’d once imagined traveling across the globe and finding adventure while I circled in the dance called La Boulangère that Jane had mentioned in Pride and Prejudice. However, most of the people at the events were already coupled, and men my age just weren’t into the novels like I was.
So I called one of my friends who might understand, since the four of us , minus Ann, roomed together for the ten days as the American regulars of the Austen world in Bath every year. She answered on the first ring.
“Amelia,” I said. “Can we go get a beer before my train ride?”
Her very upper-class, New England nasal voice that somehow blended with the London accent easier than the rest of us relaxed me with the first syllable. “You’re going on a train ride? To where?”
I might have been born in Pittsburgh, but my soul belonged here. I double-checked to make sure I had my ticket and all the contents of my manila envelope in my bag as I said, “Scotland. I’m to drive the new boss’s car to London.”
Right, and she had zero idea what happened to me today.
I glanced out the window and saw the light rain fall in the evening sky as she said, “Seriously? That’s horrible.”
No one was on the street tonight, pushing baby carriages or carrying groceries. It was unusually quiet because of the rain as I said, “Not all of us are journalists. And I need that beer, desperately.”
“Why? What happened?”
I tugged my ear and rushed back in my room to put on a small necklace as I said, “Richard and Ann were in my flat.”
“You’re joking.”
I adjusted my mother’s favorite small gold daisy pendant that she gave me shortly before she died and said, “They were both naked.”
“I’ll be right there, and meet you at the bar.”
Perfect. I grabbed my toothbrush and now my backpack was stuffed. The tension in my shoulders and gut dissipated as I headed out.
While I’d hadn’t expected to see either one of those cheaters ever again, I was glad to have my key back. Now when I interviewed people to replace Ann, I’d have the original key to offer, and wouldn’t have to worry about her showing up and causing more trouble.
Hopefully the next round of potentials would work out better.
I was almost in good spirits by the time I swung into our pub where we reenacted Regency era dining protocols just as often as we just sat and talked. I headed to our table but threw my arms open to hug as I saw my besties all together. I squeezed each of them as I said, “Charlotte, Amelia, Sophia, I wasn’t expecting everyone.”
Sophia, my friend closest to my sister’s stand-up-for-herself personality said, “We’re your squad, Stephanie.”
I plopped into my chair while Charlotte ordered me a beer. I put my bag down and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I took the beer as Amelia, the slightly neurotic planner of ou
r group, asked, “What kind of car does your boss drive?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t bothered to notice whether there was a symbol on a key in my bag. Charlotte bumped into me playfully and asked, “So when you go to Scotland, will you see Charlie Grannd in person?”
I sipped my beer. Friends made everything better. And the Guinness was good here. As I finished, I said, “Probably not. He’s either surrounded by barely legal women or spending an obscene amount of money to do something outrageous that no one in their right mind would do.”
Sophia clinked glasses with me. “Still, though, he’d be an amazing revenge fuck.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I don’t need that.”
Amelia then spoke for all of them. “Yeah, you do. Since you flew home from your sister’s wedding you’ve been…sad. Time to stop being pathetic and get out there.”
I gulped a little of my beer. Friends were good, but I missed how my sisters always watched out for me, though they were all married and had their own families now. As I took another sip, gazed into the brew, and said, “I suppose. But I don’t want just any man between my thighs. I want…Mr. Fucking Darcy.”
Charlotte asked, “What is your fantasy guy in real life like exactly?”
Good question. I swallowed and imagined all the movie actors who played my favorite heroes. Then they all sort of melded and dissipated as I spoke, “He’s intelligent. Blows-my-mind intelligent.”
Sophia sat back and snapped her fingers. “So you want a nerd?”
She’d have set me up in a day with someone horrible, probably with glasses, who spent 24/7 slouched in front of his laptop.
I fiddled with my necklace, wishing I still had my mom as I said, “No. He has to be brainy, but also resourceful and chasing his dream. He’s absolutely not Richard or the rich and entitled Charlie Grannd.”
Finally the conversation turned away from my recent horrible choices. I finished my beer but then the clock tolled on the wall.
“Ooops!” My job awaited. I jumped up, slung on my backpack and waved goodbye. Amelia jumped up to walk me out and said, “You’ve had a long day. Don’t sleep through your stop.”
Cocky M.D.: Single Dad Fake Fiancee Romance (Steel Series Book 5) Page 13
