The BFD (A Big Deal Romantic Comedy Book 1) Read online

  One—When Carson and I were five years old, our parents took us to the Easter egg roll/hunt at the White House. During the hunt, I made at least fifteen kids cry after knocking them to the ground so I could get to the eggs before they did. They were all at least twice my age.

  Two—After a loss, in every sport I’ve played from age seven up, although I tell the opponent good game, in my head I’m saying, Fuck you.

  Three—If my GPS says I’ll arrive in so many minutes, I have to beat it.

  Four—When we were thirteen, Carson sent her picture in to a magazine for a beauty contest. I sent mine in too. I won. It was girls only.

  See? Competitive. I’ve never been okay with losing. I probably stole bottles from Carson when we were babies.

  Anyway, Rori not wanting to go with me, in my mind meant losing. And it bothered me. A lot. Therefore, my goal was plain and simple: to get her to go with me.

  Yeah, it sounds crazy, but that’s just how I’m built. Eyes on the prize and all.

  “No? Aw, c’mon. It’s a charity dance! You’re both donators! It’d be fun!” He turned to me. “Castle, you’re not seeing anyone seriously right now, are you? So whaddya say?” Mike kept pushing.

  I stalled for a moment to keep from going off on him live and on the air for ignoring Rori’s answer.

  Timeout number two.

  Four—I have a sister. Therefore, I’m a born protector. So, although my competitive hunter wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her back to my cave, the protector in me only wanted to keep Rori safe. Talk about an internal conflict.

  And here you thought men were so simple. But now you know we’re not when it comes to our basic instincts.

  So back to the SNAFU that was playing out right in front of my eyes.

  Scratching the side of my jaw, I realized that appeasing Mike was the only way to get out of this—also that it was time to shave—and I glanced over at Rori, who looked like she was about to get tackled by Dick Butkus. Making a point of giving her an exaggerated wink, hoping she’d go along with me—then graciously decline after we were off the air if that was what she wanted although I hoped it wasn’t—and asked, “What do you say, Ms. Flannigan? Is it a date?”

  So, apparently, Rori hadn’t gotten my drift or knew the meaning of appeasement.

  Instead, she blurted, “I can’t believe I just kissed a man who blows up my NNE list!” She held up her fist and started flicking up fingers for each of what I guessed were my flaws. “You’re arrogant! You’re a pro athlete! And you’re a player! You’re also…breathing!” She said that last part almost as if it were a tragedy. “I can’t go out with someone who sends two separate flower bouquets to two different women on the same day and writes sweet nothings on their cards just so he can get laid!”

  Christ almighty.

  She looked at Jeff and Mike next and stated shakily, “Thank you, gentlemen for having me on your show. And, please, everyone, donate to the KIDS Klub because it’s such a worthwhile cause.”

  She took off her headset, stood, smiled a bit maniacally then left.

  Looking back at me, Jeff muttered, “I think that first no would’ve sufficed.” Then realizing he was on air, he straightened in his seat and said, “But I’m sure Castle, The B-F-D, will not have any problem at all finding a date to the charity dance for The KIDS Klub!”

  Shit.

  “Oh, you know he won’t,” Mike chimed in, giving me an apologetic look as he went with it. “Because he’s sexy, he’s hot, and he’s rich!” A clip of a guy saying, “I’d do him,” played just then making me even more annoyed. “Look at the phone lines lighting up with calls! I’ll bet they’re all women, and probably some men, wanting to go with Castle to the dance!”

  “No doubt!” Jeff answered, he too giving me a remorseful look. “Thank you, Castle, for coming on today. We look forward to the dance and also to another great year of football ahead. And, listeners, make sure to donate, donate, donate to KIDS Klub! You’re listening to Wake up with Mucus on KWSH. We’ll be right back after these messages from our sponsors.”

  The “On Air” sign went off and taking off their headsets, they both let out a breath and looked sheepishly at me.

  “Dude. She’s a little high-strung, wouldn’t you say?” Mike finally said, as if testing the waters, trying to find out just how pissed I really was.

  But I found I wasn’t all that mad. Rather, I was fucking dumbfounded, because while I’d sat there listening to them at the end, hunter, competitor, chemistry and fantastic kiss aside, I found I was clueless as to what it was about Rori Flannigan that attracted me so much to her. Even after she’d embarrassed me not once, but twice on air, I still wanted to ask her out.

  Next stop, tattoo parlor to have Dumbass inked on my forehead.

  “She’s a little something,” I mumbled, setting my own headset on the desk.

  Staring at me for a moment, I saw a grin growing on Jeff’s face then he declared, “You’re gonna get the girl, aren’t you?”

  Maybe it was that I was used to every other woman falling at my feet and she hadn’t done that, that attracted me to her. Maybe it was that she was a firecracker. Or, and this was the most likely reason, maybe I was a just goddamn glutton for punishment. Who the hell knew.

  But looking at Jeff, I nodded slowly, then standing, shook both their hands thanking them, and at Mike’s, Go get ‘er, Tiger, I left.

  Chapter 6

  “Now, that was good radio!” Mara deadpanned when I got back to the shop.

  “Kill me. Do it,” I answered, flopping down into what we called Snuggly Chair, which Mara kept in the flower shop. Before we’d opened our stores, we’d found the chair at a secondhand store for cheap, reupholstered it with hideous floral fabric then re-stuffed it. I loved it. With the tables and curlicue chairs in the bakery, there was no room for it, so we’d decided it belonged in the flower shop, and there it stayed, facing the window and always waiting to give us a snuggle when we needed help in solving life’s many problems. And even if we didn’t quite figure things out as we sat there, it always felt good to sink into it, like getting a big hug from a giant, puffy marshmallow.

  “Just be glad Shannon’s in class and didn’t hear it or she’d have roasted you twice by now.”

  “Always so silver lining, aren’t you?” I replied, giving her an irritated look.

  “Optimism is my middle name!” she boasted with a chuckle as she went back to cutting the stems on a pile of roses laying on the counter. “And you kissed him?” she inquired not turning toward me.

  “Yes,” I groaned, leaning back and covering my face with my hands.

  Oh. My. God.

  I’d kissed him!

  Wait.

  I’d slapped him.

  Then I’d kissed him.

  The first kiss I’d had since Noah.

  I’d literally thrown myself into that kiss.

  Had not held back one iota.

  I’d pressed my body into his and wanted more.

  So much more.

  And then I’d moaned.

  Moaned!

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  “I don’t know why I’m so attracted to him.”

  “You like him,” she declared, peering over her shoulder at me.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s a playboy and not looking for anything real. If I wanted just a rebound, he’d be the first guy I’d call. But what’s the point of us dating if he’s not in it to find someone he could possibly fall in love with, you know? I mean, why bother?”

  “True,” she mumbled as she worked.

  “I just hope that interview doesn’t hurt my business.”

  “If anything, it’ll probably bring people in wanting to see the chick who turned down The B-F-D!” she said, mimicking the radio guys.

  Then I remembered my STD comment. “Fuuuuuuck. He’s gonna sue me for slander. I basically told the entire city he has gonorrhea.” Turning sideways and dangling my legs over the chair arm,
the back of my head resting on the other, I covered my face with my hands again and let out another groan.

  “I didn’t hear that part,” she said, sounding confused.

  “Well, he did. The DJs did. All of D.C. did. I’m so getting sued,” I mumbled.

  “If he sues, he sues. Nothing you can do about it now.”

  I peeked through my fingers at her. “So much for silver lining.”

  “Just being realistic,” she said with a shrug.

  “I think I’ve had enough reality for today,” I muttered, sitting up then leaning over to rest my forearms on my thighs, hands clasped in front of me. “I’m sure he thinks I’m a basket case. First, I kiss him, then like a silly teenaged girl, I act offended when he asks me to an innocent dance, spouting off my list. Ugh. Every time I’m near him, I turn into—”

  “Super Bitch?” she finished.

  “Yes,” I dragged out.

  She assessed me for a moment. “You know, when I first started dating Caleb, Wonder Wench was front and center for days. And you wanna know why?” I nodded. “I think it’s because I was scared.”

  “Of?”

  She shrugged. “Of liking him. Of putting myself out there again. So Super Bitch makes sense because you’re scared too.”

  She may have been right but I didn’t want to talk about it. “How about you bust open that bottle of Patron in your office and we get trashed.”

  “It’s nine-thirty in the morning, Roar,” she declined. “Besides, I have a date with Caleb tonight.”

  “He’ll thank me for loosening you up,” I pointed out since she’d told me she’d been nervous on their first date a couple weeks ago.

  “I’ve loosened up. But my luck, I’d break another tooth and we’d never make it to the oh-so-important fifth date.”

  “What’s so important about the fifth date?” I asked, frowning.

  Glancing at me before going back to arranging the roses in a vase, she stated, “You have sex.”

  “You schedule your sex?” She cut her eyes at me. “No, really. You don’t just play it by ear?” I said.

  I saw her forehead wrinkle. “I’ve done that before and it didn’t work.” Then facing me, she declared wistfully, “I’m trying something new.”

  With all my stupid cancelled engagement crap, I’d forgotten she’d had her heart broken once-upon-a-time and that dating Caleb was a big step.

  “Getting older is depressing,” I proclaimed with a sigh.

  “Twenty-five isn’t old!” She turned back to the vase.

  “Maybe I should’ve said getting wiser,” I corrected.

  “What do you mean?”

  I stood then walked to the outside of the counter in front of her, and putting my chin in my hands, rested my elbows on it. “I mean, I miss the days when being in love was fun. Where you didn’t have to worry about getting hurt because you just didn’t care!” I canted my head to the side, moving my face toward hers to get her attention. “Since when did we start caring?”

  Tilting her head as she peered back at me, she let out a scoffing noise. “Since we wanted to get married and have a family.”

  I stood up straight. “I don’t want to get married.”

  That got her attention.

  “What?” she asked in surprise.

  I shrugged. “Why set myself up for more heartache?”

  She squinted her eyes for a second then resumed arranging roses. “You’ve been hurt.” She glanced at me quickly and said, “And it’s understandable that you don’t trust easily anymore.”

  “Understatement…” I mumbled, picking up a rose and smelling it.

  “But you’ll get your mojo back, Roar. Then you’ll meet someone who fits perfectly with you and live happily ever after.”

  “Mojo.” I snorted.

  She gave me a somber look. “You’re jaded,” she decided.

  “Ya think?” I huffed out. “Of course, I’m jaded! My fiancé, who I’d been with for four years, by the way, was gay and I didn’t know it! How can I not be jaded? I find it hard to trust anyone anymore!”

  Raising her eyebrows, she replied, “It’ll pass. It always does.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s hope it doesn’t before my “Jaded Mojo” t-shirt comes in,” I said, turning and heading toward the bakery.

  “So,” Michelle said as I put an apron on in the kitchen.

  “So?” I retorted.

  “I’ve seen this Castle guy.” She was picking up utensils around the kitchen and loading them into the dishwasher.

  Gathering the ingredients to make pumpkin spice muffins with cream cheese frosting, I stated, “You and millions of others.” As I measured then added the ingredients to the mixer, she said nothing but I felt her eyes on me. After a few minutes of being scrutinized, I finally snapped, “What?”

  “You’re upset.”

  “I am not.”

  “You always make pumpkin spice muffins when you’re sad,” she noted.

  I stopped what I was doing and narrowed my eyes at her. “I do not.” At her nod, I said, “Maybe I’m just hungry for them and I know the customers like them. Ever think of that?”

  But she was right. These muffins were my comfort food. Mimi Sue had always made them whenever I was troubled over something. And I was troubled now, I just didn’t want to admit it to her. But I looked forward to their being ready so I could grab a couple, go sit in Snuggly Chair and eat my worries away.

  “I heard the interview this morning,” she filled me in, pushing the button to start the industrial dishwasher.

  “Again, you and millions of others.” Man, I was in a mood. I had to hurry with these muffins!

  Michelle waited until I’d put in the butter and started the mixer before saying, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Roar.” My eyes met hers and I wanted to cry at the look of understanding on her face. “I get that Noah hurt you. But it’s not the end of the world.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’ve shut people out, men in particular, but now it’s time to move on.”

  “What, you turn twenty-three and suddenly you have all the answers?” I said snottily.

  “No need to be a bitch, Rori,” she replied, eyebrow raised.

  I gave her an apologetic look. “I know. Sorry. I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “I’ve said my piece. Just wanted you to know it’s time.”

  That’s what I loved about Michelle. She was straightforward and to the point and you never had to wonder where you stood with her. If you did something that pissed her off, believe me, you’d know because she’d tell you. But I liked that because she wasn’t fake.

  “I’ll think about what you said,” I answered, grabbing the tub of cream cheese and more butter from the fridge.

  By one o’clock, Snuggly Chair and I were of one accord, me, legs hanging over one arm and chowing down on muffins that were consequently washed down with a pumpkin-spice latte, as I people-watched out the front window, and Snuggly, well, doing his thing.

  “Are you not gonna work today?” Mara asked from behind the counter after her latest customer left.

  “Michelle said she’s got it. I told her she can leave an hour early if she gives me this timeout.” I patted the chair.

  “You’re gonna OD on pumpkin spice.”

  “Then I’d die a very happy woman,” I declared, smiling as I closed my eyes and snuggled deeper into the cushy chair.

  After a few marvelous minutes of magnificent silence, the phone rang.

  “Flannigan’s Flowers and Fare, how may I help you?” Mara answered. “Oh, hi. Uh huh. Yes. A little droopy. Yes. Only if it’s genuine. And you have to be committed for it to, um, grow. Uh huh. Right. Good. Um. You think that would go over well?”

  I listened to her talking flowers with a customer while I replayed this morning’s interview in my head. Castle seemed like a nice guy, and his family was definitely altruistic. I wondered what it’d be like to go to that dance with him; he was probably a lot of fun to hang out with.
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br />   “To a Ms. Carson Seeley? S-E-E-L-E-Y? Okay. Yes, of course, Mr. Castleman,” she stressed making me open my eyes and sit up.

  Oh my God. Just when I thought he might actually be a decent guy, the jerk was calling in another order for another woman, knowing I’d hear about it. Not that there was really something between us or anything. But he’d practically asked me out just hours ago! He’d rammed his tongue down my throat! And now he was at it again, sending flowers to someone else!

  “Yes. And you want the card to say, ‘To my best girl. Get ready for spankings. Have the best day ever’?” Mara bugged her eyes out at me as she typed.

  Spankings? His best girl? Holy shit.

  And, damn it, I’m gonna confide something to you, but you can’t tell a soul. Promise? Okay, well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but I actually felt a twinge of jealousy hearing all that. Not that I wanted to be spanked by Calder Castleman, God no, I mean, no, no way…okay, maybe. But the point is, as put off on relationships as I was—aka screwed up in the head—I wouldn’t have minded being someone’s best girl. Hang on while I let out a big, fat sigh. But listen, I had the answers. And I also had counters which was what was screwing me up. Ready? Answer: Castle made me feel things. Counter: I felt I wasn’t ready to feel things. Answer: Castle made me want things like being someone’s best girl. Counter: I felt I wasn’t ready to be someone’s best girl. See the problem? Me.

  “Yes. And you want these sent…oh, right now, okay. Address?” Mara held the phone between her shoulder and ear as she typed the address into the computer, and I noticed she’d gotten a little snippy with him, probably mad because he was ordering flowers for another woman. “I’ll get that ready.” She clicked around on the register for a few seconds. “Is your credit card still the Visa ending in 1212? I’ll get these sent as soon as I prepare them. Thank you and have a wonderful day.” There was a beat as we stared at each other then she said, “I was gonna tell you to ask him out, but since he’s spanking other women, maybe you should pass.”

  “But I want to be just another conquest to him!” I joked.

  “This pisses me off! What a prick!” she suddenly yelled making me stand and go to the counter. “I know you weren’t paying much attention at the first, but he was asking about you.”