Scorched (Sizzle #2)
Read Scorched (Sizzle #2) Online
Authors: Sarah O'Rourke
Scorched
By Sarah O’Rourke
Copyright
©
2015
by Sarah O’Rourke
All rights reserved. No
part of this publication or cover design artwork may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying,
recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods in current use or to be
developed in the future,
without
the prior express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by copyright law (US. Copyright Act of 1976).
This is a work of
fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious, and are the sole
property of Sarah O’Rourke. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any real
setting, person, or situation is used in a fictitious manner with literary
license.
This work of fiction is
intended for mature audiences.
Devil
Holding
his preferred expensive Cuban cigar clenched between his shiny, white incisors,
Devil Delancy glared through the picturesque French window located at the front
of his sprawling home. The sheer window treatment offered him an unobstructed
view of the occupants residing inside the dwelling, and needless to say, he was
less than happy with what he was seeing.
Inhaling
deeply, he tried to allow the aromatic smoke to soothe his frayed nerves while
he watched, undetected and hidden by the shrubbery dotting the landscape. His
jaw clenched as he watched his love, his Molly, heft yet another china plate
toward her face, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the etched pattern
adorning the rim with discerning, albeit tired, eyes.
Christ
on a cracker, he thought to himself, this wedding madness was going to be the
death of them both… and it wasn’t even
their
ceremony!
Nope,
he’d been happily married for over two mostly glorious years to the amazing
woman currently kneeling on the floor next to a stack of china inside the
house. Their wedding woes should have been nothing but dim memories, but
noooooo…. Somehow, he and Molly (oh, hell, let’s be real… it was mostly Molly)
were now playing wedding planners and party hosts to the commitment ceremony of
his dependable executive assistant, Armando Savage, and his Vice President of
Mergers and Acquisitions, Nick Santino.
How,
you ask, did this happen? Go ahead, ASK!
Well,
that’s simple.
His
own blushing bride had a death wish. That’s right! Molly had willingly
allowed herself to be submerged in this storm of matrimonial madness that had
descended from the heavens. His own completely crazy, but inarguably beautiful
wife had
volunteered
to organize and host the freaking festivities. And
she’d signed up for this duty while she’d been NINE months pregnant, knowing
full well that he’d never be able to deny her anything that close to delivering
their child. Never mind the fact that Devil had known that she would be a brand
new mother, running on minute amounts of sleep and aided by copious doses of
caffeine. None of that had mattered a single iota. On the contrary, Molly had
forged ahead, determined to give her gay bestie the perfect day despite being
in the middle of giving birth to a brand spanking new tiny human.
Yeah,
it was entirely possible that his wife had gone certifiably insane. In fact, he
would have been willing to bet money on it. He’d have been thrilled to have
blamed it on pregnancy hormones, but even after his own little Devylynn had
made her appearance a mere eight weeks ago, Molly had continued to insist on
spearheading Operation: Get the Guys Hitched.
And
when was this anticipated ceremony set to commence, you ask?
VALENTINE’S
DAY!
That’s
right. Their good friends, Gay and Gayer, had chosen the most stereotypical
holiday of all time to tether the ol’ ball to the chain.
Idiots.
Devil
sighed heavily and shook his head as he watched Molly yawn widely and set aside
the china plate while she made some kind of note in her ever-present oversized wedding
bible. Oh, how he wanted to burn that book. He’d thought his wedding had been
a challenge, but he was quickly realizing that his own special day had been a
walk in the park compared to Mannie and Nick’s Big V-Day Wedding Extravaganza.
And, yeah, Big Day should appear in capital letters here because Molly had insisted
to him time and again that nothing less than their very best would do. (He’d
learned months ago that it was really just better (and safer, too!) for him to
turn over his credit card, close his eyes, and let the chips fall where they
may. He was nothing if not a self-preservationist.)
Bitterly,
he recognized that it was now official. His ass was currently (and for the
foreseeable future) residing in what could only be called a holiday hell of the
Cupid variety (and as a special side note - if he ever got his shot, that arrow
that the little imp carried around with him was going directly up that diapered
fool’s ass). And as God as his witness, he was gonna dance across that sappy cherub
freak’s fuckin’ coffin if something didn’t give soon. St. Valentine could kiss
his hairy ass… he wanted his wife back, dammit. Hell, he was a decent enough
guy, wasn’t he? He didn’t mind loaning Molly out for her wacky friend’s
wedding planning, but this craziness had gotten so far out of hand that it
could be spotted from the space station.
Lifting
his hand, Devil rubbed his jaw, the short hairs of his five o’clock shadow
abrading his palm as he stared at his weary wife with a resigned eye.
Surrounded by china plates and paper saucers full of half-eaten wedding cake
samples, she was still a vision of loveliness. He was honest with himself and
knew that she was the light shining at the end of his very long tunnel,
beckoning him toward her. Well, at least she
would
beckon if she could
devote her attention to him. Unfortunately, his current enemies were making
that difficult. Moving his gaze to the interlopers that sat on either side of
his wife, he tried not to feel envious of the trio of cockblockers. He
tried
,
but he knew it was an effort doomed to fail.
Lately,
Molly’s best friends, Mannie, Vivian, and Samantha, had seen more of his wife
than he had. Every moment she wasn’t with Devylynn, one of her cohorts was
devouring her attention regarding the upcoming commitment ceremony. And if he
was being completely honest, he wasn’t accustomed to being an afterthought in
his own house. Between being a new mother and wedding planner extraordinaire,
Molly’d had next to no time or energy for him. He couldn’t lie; that smarted.
She’d become so obsessed with giving Armando the wedding of his dreams that
she’d forgotten those vows they’d made to put each other first in all things. Hell,
just this morning, he’d caught himself feeling jealous of his own precious
daughter while he’d watched her hungrily nurse at her momma’s ample breasts. His
own kid! He wasn’t proud of it, but he was self-aware enough to admit that
they had some problems.
And
three of those dastardly problems were sitting inside the house with his woman.
Forcing
himself to take a deep breath, he reminded himself that all marriages had their
share of challenges. According to his Nana, for every hill life offered, there
would be a valley to balance it out or some sentimental crap like that. But
damn, couldn’t he just get to the top of the mountain and stay there with Molly
for a few uninterrupted minutes?
Nobody
could blame him for how he felt, could they? Of course not, he thought
decisively, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he continued to eye his
wife. It wasn’t as though he was completely selfish. He’d been patient with
her, dammit. He’d given her time following the birth of their perfect child to
heal and rest – at least he’d
tried
. Was it his fault if Molly was
convinced that he and their child couldn’t survive without her constant
supervision? He wasn’t allowed to breathe near the baby unless her watchful
eye was narrowed upon him.
Not to
mention, the six-week anniversary of their tiny little miracle’s birth had come
and gone over two weeks ago with very little fanfare. Both mother and daughter
had visited their respective physicians and been pronounced hale and whole. It
should have been cause for much celebration in Delancy Land.
Suffice
it to say, nary a shout for joy was heard.
He
hadn’t said a single negative word about it, but try as he might (and despite
her obstetrician pronouncing her recovered), he STILL hadn’t managed to coax
his wife back into their marriage bed. No, instead of tears and a temper
tantrum, he’d been entirely supportive. He’d done the manly thing and resorted
to an extra long shower with only his hand, his imagination, and his memories
of better times for company. Okay, if he was completely honest, there’d been
a
few
tears.
Oh, he
didn’t blame her exactly. He was well aware that she was burning the midnight
oil to pull off a wedding coup de grace AND get a nomination for mother of the
year. If it wasn’t all about their daughter, then it was ALL about the
commitment ceremony. But, he couldn’t help questioning when it could become
just a little bit ALL about THEM again.
He’d
been hoping that tonight would be the night they’d rediscover each other. He’d
made arrangements for their kid (despite Molly’s argument that she didn’t need
any time alone). The little Devyl was now happily ensconced at her
grandparents’ house, being spoiled like the little princess she was. He had
his supplies. Glancing down at the bouquet of roses he held in his left hand
and the bottle of Merlot he held in his right, he was sure that he had the
tools required to romance his wife. Now, all he had to do was get rid of the
unwelcome guests taking up residence in his home.
It was
definitely time to evict the squatters, he decided as he strode with a
purposeful step toward his ornate front door. Letting himself in quickly, he
could hear that the wedding planning was still in full swing in the living
room.
Of
course, he wasn’t going to allow
that
to slow him down.
Marching
into the living room, he directed a smile toward his wife as he announced,
“Honey, I’m home!”
She
(and her minions), however, barely spared him a glance as they continued to
pass a dark bottle from person to person.
“Mmmmm,”
Sami hummed her approval as she savored the mouthful of decadent champagne
happily, completely ignoring Devil’s entrance per her usual. “Molly is right,
Mannie. Cristal is really the only way to go for the wedding toast. At least
for the head table. We can always use the Anderson Valley Roederer for the
rest of the guests. The wedding party, though…we
definitely
need the
good stuff.”
“I come
bearing gifts, sweetheart,” Devil tried again, brandishing his roses and
sliding them in front of Molly’s nose.
Batting
the roses out of the way, Molly ignored her husband and instead concentrated on
the prospective groom. Arching one eyebrow while her pen was held poised over
her wedding planner guide, she stared at Armando while she awaited his
decision. “The Anderson fits our budget, too, Mannie,” she added hopefully.
“Perfecto!”
Armando declared enthusiastically. “The premium champagne for us and swill for
the less fortunate! As Marie Antionette would say, ‘Let them eat cake’,” he
added with a playful wink.
Devil
watched impatiently as Molly choked back laughter while she nodded and made
another note in her bible. Dropping the wine he held to the mahogany end table
next to the sofa with a loud thunk, he wondered if he was invisible. Clearing
his throat, he tried again, saying the one thing guaranteed to capture his
wife’s attention. “I would have been here earlier, but I wanted to stop by and
check on the baby before I came home.”
Molly
froze, lifting her eyes to meet Devil’s. “And? Is she okay? Did they
remember to thicken her formula with cereal for her last bottle? Did you
remind them that she won’t sleep as well if she doesn’t eat at least three
quarters of the bottle?” she asked in quick succession, her hand already
reaching for her cell phone in the center of the coffee table. “Never mind,
I’ll just call Momma and…”
“Molly,
drop the phone and come down off the ceiling,” Devil ordered gently, bending to
grab her iPhone from her hand before she could dial. “Seriously, babe, our
girl is just fine. I don’t know if you remember, but your mom and dad already
raised a couple of kids rather successfully,” he teased.
“Very
cute, Devil. Now, gimmee back my phone and let me check on our daughter,” she
whined, lifting her chin to blink up at him as she held out her hand.
He
sighed as he caught and held her gorgeous green-eyed gaze. Damn, he was
done for. He was pretty certain that even after two years of marriage
that just the mere sight of this beautiful woman would make him literally weak
in the knees. And when she looked at him with those big Bambi eyes of hers, he
was completely helpless. If she asked for the moon, he’d find a way to rope
the fucker and bring it down to her.
It had
been like that forever. From the moment she had walked into his office,
her newly-minted but almost entirely useless art history degree in her excited
little hands, he had known that his life would never be the same again.
Sure, they had almost grown up together; her brother was his best and oldest
friend, after all. But grown-up Molly trumped pig-tailed Molly in
spades. Being the savvy businessman that he was, he had known how to get
what he wanted...and hiring her as his assistant was a pure stroke of genius on
his part. Using his grandmother’s supposed heart disease to con her into
posing as his fiancé had been the exact springboard their relationship had
needed. A whirlwind engagement that almost collapsed due to a past
indiscretion with a malicious ex-girlfriend had indeed led to their
fairytale wedding...finally. Not only had Molly converted him from a
love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of bachelor to a faithfully devoted married man,
but she had also given him their incredibly loud, albeit beautiful, daughter,
who was thankfully sound asleep in her grandparents’ house.