Accidental Groom: A sizzling sexy contemporary romance novel (Accidental Love Book 1) Read online

  Accidental Groom

  A sizzling, sexy, contemporary romance novel

  Dana Mason

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Hear more from Dana

  A Letter from Dana

  Acknowledgements

  For Michelle. Thank you for your never-ending enthusiasm and support.

  Prologue

  Mackensey

  She’s simultaneously the saddest and the most striking thing I’ve ever seen. With her knees up to her chest, she’s perched sideways on the bench, talking on her cell phone… and absolutely crying her eyes out.

  I’m waiting to order my coffee and from where I’m standing, she’s hard to miss and impossible not to stare at.

  What the hell could have upset her so much? Or who could have upset her so badly? And how is it that no one else has noticed her? The woman’s eyes are the brightest green I’ve ever seen, and her rosy cheeks only enhance their color. The reason she’s crying might be ugly, but she couldn’t be called anything short of beautiful, crying or not.

  It’s hard to watch her, but I can’t look away either. Is she waiting for the bus or did she just stop for a good cry? My stomach turns because it’s killing me, yet I can’t stop staring. I’m glued to the spot with a lump forming in my throat. Maybe I should go check on her, find out who did this, and kick his ass. Jesus! Could a man have hurt her? I squint to get a better look. She doesn’t seem physically hurt and she doesn’t seem scared… she looks sad. As if she’s just lost her whole world.

  When her eyes dart toward me, I turn quickly, and immediately feel guilty for staring at her. The line shifts forward and I take the chance to glance outside again. Tears are streaming down her pink cheeks and she’s talking at a rapid pace. Maybe she’s fighting with someone?

  “What can I get you?” the barista asks, pulling my attention.

  “Grande Americano, please.” I scan my app to pay and turn, hoping to find a seat. I luck out and find an empty table facing the window. Sitting down, I watch as another woman approaches the girl and I’m so relieved, I whisper a thank you. They talk for a moment and the passer-by offers the green-eyed girl a handful of tissue then waves as she walks away.

  Obviously, she’s not in danger, but I still want to check on her. When the barista calls my name, I glance at the time and realize if I don’t leave now, I’ll miss my train. I turn toward the woman and take one last look, hoping whatever she’s going through gets easier.

  One

  Mackensey

  I rush inside Starbucks but stop abruptly. Jesus. I lean sideways to get a look at the line. Six more people are waiting ahead of me. Good thing I’m not in a hurry. I’ve already missed the light rail, so there’s no point in rushing. What’s another twenty minutes?

  Scratching the stubble on my chin, I try to calculate if I can make it in time for the next train if I stay in this line. This Starbucks is always so damn crowded. And not your ordinary crowded, either. No, this is crazy.

  I peek outside and I’m instantly reminded of last Friday. I stood in line for ten minutes and watched a young woman cry her eyes out at the bus stop outside. I’d thought about her more than once over the last week. The protective streak in me wanted to know what had happened to her, and if she was all right now. What had bothered her so much? Did she lose someone close to her? A broken heart?

  As the line shifts forward, my eyes drift to the pick-up counter on the other side, and they land directly on the green eyes I was just thinking about. She’s chatting with the hot, red-headed barista, then she nods and picks up her coffee with a smile.

  Yeah, a smile.

  My pulse picks up when she walks toward the exit. Then it settles when she turns and sits in the recently vacated seat in the corner. I smile, glad she was able to snatch up the desired real estate. If she sticks around, I might try to talk to her.

  I take a couple steps forward, trying not to stare at her. She looks happier, or at least, she looks like she hasn’t been crying. Her eyes lift to the window, and she stares out for a few seconds before setting her drink down. As she leans forward to slip a laptop out of her backpack, her long hair slides down and blocks my view of her face. She tucks it behind her ear and that’s when I notice she’s biting her lip, obviously distracted with her own thoughts. When she places her laptop on the table, her eyes lock on something ahead of her and she stares at it for a long moment. Before she looks back to her computer, her lip slips out from between her teeth and her beautifully plump mouth puckers into a pout.

  Just like last week, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so contemplative. What’s on her mind?

  When it’s my turn in line, I step up to the counter and order an Americano. The smell of roasted coffee relaxes me as I wait for my drink. I glance around the coffee shop again for a vacant seat and smile at a table of old scholars. They look retirement age, and they’re arguing about politics, occasionally raising their voices in passion. There’re also several students sitting at single tables working on laptops with earbuds in their ears.

  When the barista calls my name, I pick up my Americano and turn to scan the room again. Another small, round table opens up and it’s directly across from the green-eyed girl. I rush to occupy it before the couple behind beat me to it.

  The green-eyed girl chuckles as I slip into the chair. “Congratulations! You’re the envy of the room.”

  I’m pleasantly surprised when I realize she’s speaking to me. I fight to act casual. “This place is crazy every time I come here.”

  She nods toward the window. “Too near Sacramento State. It’s always crowded.”

  “Yes, always.” I want to continue the conversation, but her focus drifts back to her laptop.

  I stare at her long, dark hair, highlighted with mixed shades of brown. It shimmers in the sunlight as it drifts down her back. Her nose is a perfectly straight line in her profile and complements her oval face. The light-pink dusting on her high cheekbones looks like natural coloring and emphasizes her enchanting green eyes. Her eyes aren’t as green as last Friday, but they still stand out against her porcelain skin.

  She glances up, forcing me to duck my head. I look at my watch. Very late now. I hate being late but what am I missing, really? Another meeting with Kurt? My producer, Kurt, loves his Friday meetings. I’m not sure why we need to have a recurring meeting every week when we talk about that shit every single day already.

  I understand that with the top-rated morning radio show in Sacramento, it’s important to keep it fresh and funny—that’s Kurt’s job. As the show’s host, it’s my job to entertain the listeners. According to the stats man eighty-seven percent of our morning show listeners are women, and to these women, I’m just an object for them to imagine having a little side acti
on with. Something my producer likes to exploit for ratings. My partner, Mimi, as a wife and mother, is someone the listeners can relate to. Someone they want as a BFF.

  We get paid buckets of money, but it comes with a vicious stereotype that I’d usually hate. Being portrayed as a womanizing player wasn’t part of my career plan, but I can’t complain too much. Most of the women I meet are looking for a good time, not a long time, and that works for me. I’m not interested in playing the other role. I’ll leave that to Mimi. Especially since even the short relationships I’ve had turned out to be disastrous.

  The reminder is caustic so I try to shake it away. No. I’m not willing to walk that road again.

  So… yeah, late is okay today. Especially since my work day should have already ended. That little troll, Kurt, schedules these stupid Friday meetings in the afternoon and our show ends at 9 a.m. That forces Mimi and me to either stick around for hours at the station or go back to work after we’ve already left for the day.

  I flip open my messenger bag and lift my computer out. When I straighten, I catch someone staring at me from the corner of my eye. I reach into my back pocket for my phone and start dialing Kurt’s number. I know what’s coming and I need a way to excuse myself from the inevitable conversation.

  A young woman, probably a Sac State student, is watching me. “You’re Mac, right? From KQCC? Mimi and Mac in the Morning?” She’s hot. A cute little blonde with a nice rack and a round ass, but I’ve already got my eye on someone else.

  I grin at her and hold up a finger as I lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Kurt. I’m missing your meeting this afternoon.”

  “Why? Just get your ass here, we’ll wait for you.”

  “My truck’s in the shop today for maintenance, so I’m riding the light rail. I need to pick it up in an hour, and I’ve still got shit to do this afternoon for my Reno gig tomorrow. Can’t you guys meet without me?”

  “Why didn’t you just take the car?”

  “I’m not parking my car in that garage. I told you that. Get me some decent reserved parking, and it won’t be a problem.”

  “Fine, miss the damn meeting, but you’re staying late Monday so I can catch you up.”

  “You got it, boss. See you then.” I click the disconnect button and look up to see that Blondie is gone. Good. The phone call worked. I glance to my left to see Green Eyes still sitting next to me.

  I boot up my computer and open Gmail, tapping out a message to my sister.

  Good morning, Sunshine, thanks for brunch this morning. If I don’t see you before next Friday, have a good week. And, no, you can’t change your mind about that vacation! Start shopping for deals, you’re going.

  See you, Mackensey

  My sister, Emily, is a complete workaholic. It’s probably been three or four years since she’s taken a vacation of any kind. Her husband, Tuck, died a few years ago and she’s been single-minded about work ever since, throwing herself into her job. She barely has a personal life, so I try to spend as much time with her as I can. I’m pushing her to take a break. I think it’d be a great idea to tour Europe or spend a few days on a beach somewhere.

  Once the email is sent, I glance up at Green Eyes again. She’s looking around the room with a tight expression on her face.

  “Something wrong?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  “Ah, no… fine.” She glances down at her laptop and closes the lid. Her eyes dart to the bathroom door and then back to the computer.

  “I can keep an eye on that for you… if you need a bathroom break.”

  She looks at me. Hard and assessing. It almost makes me want to laugh, but I’m too fascinated. She has such a strong presence. Her stare focuses so intently, I’m afraid she can reach inside my head and pull the thoughts right out. Good thing I’m not picturing her naked.

  “It’s okay. Really. I won’t… wait.” I pull my driver’s license out of my wallet. “Here. Collateral.” I’m smiling and trying not to sound condescending, especially since she doesn’t seem to know who I am, which is rare around here.

  Her expression softens as she snatches the license from between my fingers. “Thank you,” she whispers and skirts around her table toward the ladies’ room. She didn’t even look at the ID. That’s fine. I don’t care if she doesn’t recognize me. That’s why they call it radio.

  My gaze follows her, and I’m taken with how gracefully she moves. Her jeans are ripped at the knees, and cling close, snug against her slender legs and that ass. Damn. A firm ass like that will make you forget your own name.

  When she returns from the bathroom, I smirk at her. “Now, don’t you feel bad for not trusting me?”

  “Thank you very much for watching my laptop,” she says and hands back my driver’s license. “I appreciate it.”

  I lift my hands and raise an eyebrow. “Understandable. I wouldn’t want to give up my table either.” I reach out my hand. “I’m Mac, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

  She gives me a firm shake. Her touch shoots heat through me, forcing my dick to jerk in my pants. I’m so glad I’m sitting behind a table. I glance down at her hand then back into her eyes. They’re friendly now, not so intense.

  “Just Mac? Surely that’s short for something?” she says.

  “You’re right. Name is Mackensey, but people usually call me Mac.”

  “I’m Kelley. Nice to meet you, too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here––and I’m here a lot.”

  “Oh, I’m here about once a week. My sister lives nearby, and I have breakfast with her on Fridays. But no, you’re right. I live in Midtown. We have our own Starbucks, but it’s not quite as busy.” I hesitate, trying to decide if I should tell her I saw her last week. “Actually, I was in here last week about the same time, and I think I saw you.”

  “Oh, funny. I’m usually here on Friday mornings, but I don’t remember…” She stops and I can practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes. I watch the change as soon as she realizes and her cheeks grow a shade darker.

  “Yeah.” I wait a moment then say, “I saw you at the bus stop, right outside. You were upset.”

  “You saw me? Here?” Her eyes lift back to mine in question.

  I’m tempted to let her save face and pretend it wasn’t her, but I don’t want to look like an idiot who doesn’t recognize her. “Yes.” I point to the bench at the bus stop outside. “You were talking on your cell phone, and you were crying.”

  She nods and purses her lips. “You saw that, huh?” She reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was a bad day… bad week, actually.”

  “I noticed.” Should I tell her it brought out my inner caveman? Or should I let it rest?

  It’s probably not a good idea to tell her I was ready to track down and kill the person who’d hurt her. Whatever happened to her must have been pretty bad. People don’t cry like that over just anything. “Is there someone I need to beat up for you?”

  She looks back at her laptop, and I think maybe she’s going to blow me off. But I’m not about to let her go that easily. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I was worried about you.”

  Kelley waves casually at me and breathes, “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

  I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have put her on the spot like that. Watching her face change from friendly to… God, I’m not even sure how to describe her new expression. Disappointment. Embarrassment. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach and I instantly want to make it up to her. Whatever it is.

  “Thank you for being worried. I probably should’ve just stayed home last Friday instead of venturing out in public,” she says.

  I brush off her apology. “No harm.”

  Kelley watches me for a moment, then says, “So, are you a student?”

  I almost spit out my coffee when I hear this. “Uh, no. I’m a little too old to be a student at Sac State. I work at the radio station, KQCC. Do you listen?”

  “Sometimes,” she says, and it sounds like s
he’s trying to be polite. “I don’t get a lot of time to listen to the radio. When I do listen to music, it’s usually Spotify on my phone.”

  “Spotify? The good old radio DJ killer.”

  “Oh, no.” She lifts her hand to her mouth in horror. “I’m sorry. Is that true?”

  I shake my head and chuckle. “I’m only kidding. I feel pretty secure in my job. My listeners seem to like me.”

  “Good. I’m glad to know I’m not responsible for you possibly losing your job.” She drops her hand. “I would hate that.”

  I peek over at her laptop screen. “So what do you do?”

  She raises her eyebrows. “I actually am a student. And yes, I’m probably too old to be one.” Her expression makes me think this bothers her. “I’ve been trying to finish for years but student loans are a killer and, well, life happens.”

  “I get it. I’m not quite finished paying off my loans yet.”

  “What do you do at the radio station? You said you’re a DJ?”

  “Technically, I’m a show host. We don’t do a lot of slinging discs these days.” I lay a hand on my chest. “I’m Mac from the morning show… Mimi and Mac in the Morning. You really don’t listen, do you?”

  She sucks air through her teeth and says, “No. Sorry.”

  “Ah, no biggie. That means you don’t know enough about me to hold it against me. Probably a good thing.”

  Her eyes widen. “Are you that bad?”