Romance: Military Romance: Protected by the SEAL (Contemporary Hero Bad Boy Navy SEAL Romance) (New Adult BBW Alpha Male Virgin Protector Short Stories) (58 page)

“All clear?” 

There was a pause and everyone looked at him. He smiled.

“Good, let’s end this shit.”

***

“
Monday morning, it sure looks fine
,” I sang a Fleetwood Mac song to myself softly. I was sitting at the end of my coffee counter watching the customers. There were nine of them and business was going well. Life was weird.

It all had ended when Axel asked it to and somehow that seemed fitting. He had been speaking to Detective Hanlon. He had been the one that found out the meaning of the whole thing.

The young “twerp” mob boss had decided to pay international mercenaries for his muscle in case he really wanted to make a point. We ended up being that point, right after the “Vest” as Axel still calls the guy (more commonly referred to as Julian “The Hammer” Latelli) came into my shop. The police precinct had already had people planted in it and the hotel got a few infiltrators right after we went there. I am assuming Axel had a few choice words with the security of the hotel. The dirty cops had been busted and the hotel was mightily embarrassed. According to Max, since it would be embarrassing for either place to admit to the incident, the story that was out was only what happened at my shop. Harassment, basic harassment I thought sarcastically. I chuckled though, because I really did not need any worse kind of publicity. The bright side about the Hotel was that their embarrassment was so deep that Donna and I had life time memberships and free food and lodgings.

The best news was that the only people who died were bad guys. Everyone on our side who was injured in the fight was going to be ok, even the cop who had shooed the kids away from Donna and me. He had been smart enough to disappear for a while. I heard the door from my apartment squeak behind me and smiled wider. Life was indeed weird.

I turned as Max walked over, eyes sparkling for me. He was in casual jeans and shirt with sneakers. He looked damn good in them too.

“Hey,” I said as we kissed. His arm went around me where I sat on the stool. “Where is Axel?” He smiled and shrugged

“Not sure. I am going to have to go soon. Sorry, but I can have the evenings for the rest of the week free.” Axel may be over later though, he makes his own schedule.” I smiled. I did not mind his money any more and he did not mind my lack of it. He knew if I was going to make it, it would be on my own and he appreciated that. I also felt no guilt or strangeness in loving both of the guys. The three of us were looking forward to where this might lead. We gazed in each others eyes for a happy moment and then he glanced up and looked surprised.

“I did not see that coming.” I looked and saw Donna kissing Carolyn. Carolyn's arm was in a sling and Donna was standing by a car with a smile. I grinned at Max.

“Yep, she told me this morning when she called. Good for them.”

“I agree. I just didn't see it coming,” I said, and laughed. Then I noticed Axel stand up from a corner table. I had not seen him there. Sneaky guy. I waved and blew him a kiss.

“I guess I have to go darling,” said Max. I loved hearing him call me that. We said our goodbyes and he left with Axel as Donna came in. I waved to everyone leaving and said good morning to my friend. She looked incredibly happy and bouncy. She handed me a paper. My jaw dropped at the headline.

“Mob Boss Defeated Through the Courage of Charming Baristas,” it read. I looked stunned at Donna who shrugged and laughed.

“Cheap advertising Vicky,” she said.

I saw a television truck pull up. I pointed at it and told her, “Then go advertise for us.” I laughed at her expression as she headed out to meet the TV crew.

Singing Fleetwood Mac again, I grinned, and headed back to the counter.

THE END

Bonus Story 12 of 17

I can’t breathe. I’m standing here dumb as a brick in the doorway of my office watching all of my hopes and dreams slip slowly out of sight.

I know that sounds ridiculously dramatic, but it’s true all the same.

My stepbrother, my boss, my best friend since high school is walking down the hall towards me with a tall, dark haired, olive skinned model-like woman hanging off of his arm.

As she gets closer, I see the large diamond ring dangling from her left hand. I realize that there could only be three explanations for this, none of which serve to settle the falling sensation currently taking place in my stomach.

She could be a particularly friendly new business partner. Gus has been in Canada for the past few months trying to grow the business, after all.

But, the way she’s clinging to him and laughing at his jokes that I know are ridiculous even though I can’t hear them, makes me think that she is acting a little too friendly to be just a business partner.

That means they’re together. But, it doesn’t necessarily explain the diamond ring.

My stepbrother could be having an affair with a woman who is engaged to a rich old geezer who she’s only marrying for money.

But, that explanation doesn’t sit well either. First of all, I know Gus. I’ve known him since the first day of freshman year at Grant High School when he sat in front of me in English class. He’s not the type of guy to have affairs or cheat or do anything at all unscrupulous.

Second, Benning Tech is one of the largest corporations of its kind in the country. Gus is worth over 2 billion dollars. He makes Forbes list of Richest men in the world every single year.

The beautiful model wouldn’t have to marry an old geezer for money and have an affair with Gus. It’s more likely that she would marry Gus for money. Though, along with the money she’d also get a young, handsome, virile man. It’s the best of both worlds.

This leads me to the horrifying ultimate conclusion. The beautiful model is wearing Gus’s ring.

My step brother, my best friend, got engaged while he was in Canada and didn’t tell me.

Gus catches my eye, smiles, and waves at me as he and his little girlfriend (I refuse to say the word fiancée, even in my head) move towards me.

I try to smile back but, I don’t think I’ve quite managed it. Gus doesn’t seem to notice. His smile is brighter than I’ve ever seen it and there’s a new spring in his step as he comes closer.

“Emma!” he says. “It’s so good to see you! I hope you’ve been taking good care of my company.”

“Didn’t need much taking care of,” I answer. “It’s a well-oiled machine.”

“Most of that’s due to you and you know it,” he says playfully elbowing me in the ribs the way he’s always done. As though we’re fourteen again and I’m the little sister substitute.

None the less, I smile at him and take a step back both hoping and dreading being introduced to the beautiful woman behind him. Apparently she’s got the same feeling about this meeting because she’s looking at Gus with an impatient frown while tapping her foot.

Gus catches the look out of the corner of his eye and quickly, almost nervously, moves to appease her.

“Oh, Emma,” he says ushering the woman forward, “I’ve got a...well a sort of surprise for you...this is Ramona. My fiancée.”

And there’s the word. The dreaded title that made what I already knew in my head to be true an indisputable fact.

I swallow, and paste an entirely fake smile on my face.

“Nice to meet you,” I say holding my hand out to Ramona. “I’m Emma.”

She smiles back at me. Her expression looks every bit as fake as mine feels.

“It’s great to meet you too,” she says in that sexy low voice that actresses in movies always seem to have. She takes my hand with a feminine limp wrist.

“Gus has told me all about his little stepsister. I know you two are close.”

I try to keep the smile on my face even as the words she’s just spoken ring in my head: ‘little stepsister’.  I don’t know if she means to be condescending or not but, it certainly feels that way.

With another fake smile at me, Ramona turns back to Gus.

“Honey, I really should get going,” she says. “If we really want this wedding to happen next month, I’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

“Next month?” I ask before I can stop myself. Getting engaged in a matter of months is one thing. But, a wedding so soon…

“It’s a stupid thing with Ramona’s Green Card,” Gus tells me. “We’ve got to get married within two months of her moving here or they can send her back to Canada.”

“Not that that’s the reason we’re getting married,” Ramona assures me, correctly interpreting the hopeful expression on my face. (A Green Card marriage after all, wouldn’t be quite the same as a real marriage).

She continues, her voice suddenly pouty and cutesy. “I just wanted to be with Gus and this was the only way we could make it happen.” She leans into Gus and gives him a peck on the lips and I think I’m going to be sick. She makes as if to depart.

“Okay, you can go if you have to,” Gus tells her. “I’ve got to talk to Emma about some business stuff anyway. See you tonight?”

“Of course,” she says sweetly. And, with another kiss (and another urge to gag from me), Ramona saunters out of the hall.

As soon as she leaves, the smile fades from my face and I fix Gus with a glare.

“So,” I say rather firmly to him, “when were you planning on telling me you were engaged?”

“Emma, can we not do this here?” he asks looking at the other employees rushing about. A few have glanced over their cubicles to watch us.

“Fine,” I say, “should we go into your office and have it out there?”

My arms are crossed and I’m still glaring at him. To my right I hear the tech guy, Ed, snicker behind his computer screen.

I ignore him. I’ve learned to do that over the years. But, when Gus looks at him and his face colors, Ed’s laughter stops immediately.

“Sounds good,” Gus says. “I’m sure you’ve got some things to go over with me anyway.”

Satisfied, I nod and let him lead the way past the row of cubicles and towards the large brown door to his office.

“The boss man’s in trouble,” I hear Ed whisper to Cindy, one of the data entry girls, as we pass them by. Though I send him a glare that shuts him up again, I can’t help but silently agree with Ed.

Gus is in very, very big trouble.

*****

“You want me to what?!” I all but yell in Gus’s direction. I didn’t think this day could get any worse. First, my stepbrother/best friend/man I’ve had a crush on since high school gets engaged and doesn’t tell me. And now he wants me to plan his wedding.

“Please, Emma,” he says in that pathetic voice he always uses when he’s trying to get me to do something. “We can’t get a planner on a month’s notice! There’s no one else to ask and besides, you’re really good at this stuff. You know you are.”

That is true. I planned my Mom’s wedding to Gus’s Dad when we were only sixteen, and loved every minute of it. The truth is, I love planning events. I love organizing. I love making things just so. But this...this is…

“I’ve got too much work to do!” I say, instead of what I
really
want to say (which is, ‘I can’t plan your wedding because I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen years old so you should be marrying
me
.’)

I continue. “The creative team’s coming in tomorrow to pitch the marketing plan for the new software. I can’t miss that meeting if we’re going to get a campaign out by the end of the quarter.”

“I’ve already talked to Sam, he’s going to take the first meeting for you. He’s got all your notes, he knows what we’re looking for,” Gus says. “And I’ll get most of your other duties delegated out too.”

“It’s still a big job,” I say. “I mean, Mom and Frank’s wedding took six months to plan and it still didn’t go as perfectly as I’d like it to have gone.”

Gus rolls his eyes at me. The expression is so familiar, I’m tempted to smile at him before I remember that I’m still furious.

“Nothing ever goes as perfectly as you’d like it too,” he says. “Even when it comes off without a hitch. Because you’re a crazy perfectionist like that.”

“All the more reason you don’t want me doing this,” I answer, now desperate to get out of this, somehow. “You know me, Gus. I’ll stress out and make everyone miserable!”

“You’ll have help,” he assures me. “Ramona has an assistant, Jake. He’s flying in from Canada tomorrow. He’s coming in just to help you.”

“Then why doesn’t he plan the wedding?” I ask, frustrated at the idea of having to meet yet another person from Canada who would, no doubt, also ruin my life.

“The short answer is because he’s a straight male and knows nothing about weddings,” Gus says. “The longer answer is...I trust you. There’s no one else I would trust with the most important day of my life besides you.”

My heart skips a beat and I look into those blue eyes that are so incredibly familiar to me. Gus is staring at me with his sad, pleading look and, despite myself, I’m almost ready to give in.

“Please, Emma. Just do this one thing. For me,” he says. That’s it. That’s all it takes to push me over the edge to acquiescence.

I heave a huge sigh before saying, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Gus’s face breaks out into the biggest grin I’ve seen from him in years. The last time he grinned like that was when we made our first sale ten years ago.

“But, you’re going to owe me big time,” I tell him trying to sound stern but feeling a smile come to my own face. “And I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Ramona. We talked every day when you were in Canada.”

“Like I said,” Gus says, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You know I hate surprises,” I answer.

“And I’ve spent years trying to get you to love them,” Gus quips back. “I thought this one might help with that.”

I roll my eyes at him. As I do, I hear him chuckle. As I leave the office to return to my desk, I can’t help feeling a bit lighter. I’m still upset about the wedding. I’m still angry at Gus for keeping the whole thing so secret. But, the idea that he trusts me, and that I’m the only person he trusts enough to take care of his wedding, has given me an extra bounce in my step.

Truth be told, talking to Gus always manages to do that.

*****

There is an underwear model sitting at my desk. I walked into work today fully expecting things to go back to normal. Or as normal as they could be with Gus’s wedding less than a month away and me planning it.

I thought I would get my work for the company done in the morning and, maybe, have lunch with Ramona’s assistant so that we could talk about flower arrangements and so on.

Now, I find myself standing in the hallway, almost completely immobile, looking at the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.

His longish dark hair falls elegantly into his dark brown eyes. His skin is tanned, and his jaw has a light stubble.

He’s wearing a dark suit, jacket unbuttoned, with a bright red tie and white shirt. I can make out his torso through his shirt I can tell that his abs are well-defined and seem to end in that perfect ‘V’ shape.

I feel heat rush to my cheeks as a pool of desire floods embarrassingly to my nether regions. I walk towards my desk, half hoping that this is not Jake, Ramona’s assistant, and more than half hoping that it is.

“Hi,” I say when I reach him, “I’m Emma. You’re...um...sitting at my desk.”

“Oh, sorry!” the underwear model says, quickly scrambling up from my chair. “I’m Jake.”

Giving me a charming smile, he holds out his hand to mine and, trying not to blush, I take it.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, trying as hard as I can not to focus on how warm and softly masculine his hand feels in mine. He smiles at me again and I realize that we’ve been holding the handshake just a bit longer than was probably necessary.

With a nod, I pull away.

“Sorry,” Jake says again, “I just...Ramona didn’t tell me what you looked like so...I was just a little surprised that you’re so…”

“So,
what
?” I ask expecting to hear ‘short’, ‘frizzy haired’ or ‘young’. All things that people have said to me in the past.

“Beautiful,” Jake answers. Now I’m powerless to hide the blush that comes into my cheeks.

“You’re pretty good looking yourself,” I say, cursing myself for not coming up with something more intelligent or witty.

“I can’t take credit for that,” he says. “Good genes. It’s from my Mom’s side. She was a Spanish model.”

“That makes sense,” I answer, moving to the chair behind my desk. Jake pulls up a chair beside me.

“I’m sorry again about sitting at your desk,” he said, “Ramona should’ve texted you to tell you I was coming.”

“I didn’t get anything from her,” I say. “I mean, I knew you were coming today, but Gus said to expect you at lunch time.”

“Ramona changed her mind,” he tells me in a flat voice. Clearly he’s not exactly pleased with the change in plans. “She does that a lot. If you’re going to be planning this wedding, you’ll get used to it.”