Left in the Dust: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance (20 page)

“Why can't you sit still, Carter?”

Carter squirmed in the chair, fixing his jeans and shirt. “I wasn't made to sit for paintings, Mrs. King.”

I laughed, stroking the brush along the canvas. “Yeah that's apparent.”

Mrs. King.
I still got goosebumps whenever I heard it.

Our wedding was a whirlwind that blew right by us. Carter wanted the wedding as soon as possible so we needed help. The Dark Souls MC took care of all the planning
and
expenses. I was really nervous about the MC planning my dream wedding. I expected leather jackets and a motorcycle to drive me down the aisle.

But it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Right on the beach, the sun shining, the waves crashing in the background. I couldn't have asked for more perfect weather. White chairs were set up along the grass facing a modest altar. It was all so simple, yet elegant.

I always imagined my father walking me down the aisle, his arm nervously shaking. But it wasn't to be. Diesel offered to walk me down. He was a father figure to Carter and that was good enough for me.

Carter was dressed in a tailored black suit that barely hid his bulging muscles. I giggled on my way down the aisle—I'd never seen him look so dressed up before.

And he looked damn good.

My white off-the-shoulder gown showed a generous amount of cleavage that got Carter's eyes wandering. I tried to keep from tearing up as we exchanged our vows but I couldn't help it. The priest announced us as husband and wife, we kissed, and the crowd cheered.

Happiest day of my life.

Our honeymoon was spent in a hotel room right on the water. We never even left the bed.

“How much longer do I have to sit here?” Carter complained.

“Almost done.” Everything looked great except for his expression. It didn't capture Carter at all.

“Why are we even doing this today? There's so many dirtier things we could be doing.”

I leaned over past the canvas and gave Carter a death glance. “I wanted to capture this moment.”

“What moment? Why don't you capture the moment I come inside you? That would make for a great painting.”

I rolled my eyes. “Keep it in your pants, honey.”

My hand moved independently of my body, spreading the paint across the canvas. I rarely had to actually think about what I was painting. It all came out of me naturally.

Carter was right to complain about this. I didn't give him any special reason for it. But I was about to. I wanted to tell him at the perfect time. That time was now. “The reason I wanted to capture this moment is because it's the moment you find out you're having a baby.”

I continued painting like I hadn't just dropped a bomb on Carter.

His jaw dropped to the floor and it came right back up to form the biggest smile ever.
That's what I was waiting for.

Carter stood up. “Are you joking, Taylor?”

“Sit back down and no, I'm not joking.”

Carter dropped back into the chair and sat still, his face beaming.

I put the last finishing touches on the painting and stepped back to take it all in. I couldn't have done a better job.

“Can I get up now and kiss my wife?”

“Get over here, you dumb brute.”

Carter rushed over and wrapped his arms around me. “I'm going to be a father?”

“Yeah and you better not fuck it up.”

Carter put his hand on my stomach. “I'm going to spoil the hell out of him or her. Do you know yet?”

I shook my head. “Still got a couple more months until we can find out.”

Carter showered me with kisses, choking my body with his arms. He stared at the painting, tilting his head side to side. “You were actually able to catch the surprise look on my face.”

“It came out perfectly.”

Carter turned to me and smiled. “I'll love you forever, Mrs. King.”

“Until the end of time, Mr. King.”

Keep reading for another full-length novel, Royal Ever After

Copyright 2016 Winter Scott

All Rights Reserved.

Disclaimer: This ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is coincidental.

No section of this book may be copied or reproduced without the author's permission.

Description

Did I finally find my happily ever after?

Lucas was just another arrogant beast trying to get between my legs. It had been so long since I was last touched by a man. It was just a one-night stand. No harm done.

But it wasn't just a one-time thing. He couldn't keep his hands off me. His appetite was unending. The way I felt under his powerful weight, moaning his name. We never even left the bed.

But he never told me he was the crown prince!

I slowly creaked open the door to European History 301. Mr. Capshaw's back was to the class, writing with marker on the white board. Classmates diligently took notes while Capshaw spoke about some war from long ago. It was becoming a habit of mine to be fifteen minutes late—I still couldn't figure out the train schedule.

I'd only moved to England a few weeks ago with a study-abroad program. Paris was on the top of my list but I didn't know a lick of French. England was the next best choice.

I hunched over and went down the row of desks, scanning for any empty spots. Students watched me as I sneaked by, some giggling and others scoffing.

Why did the whole world only pay attention to me when I was late?

A vacant seat sat all the way at the end of an aisle. Everyone shifted their feet to make way for me as I shuffled through. I passed by Tom and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

I was sitting so close to him! He threw a smile at me and I almost melted. His tight graphic t-shirt showed off all his muscles. Why couldn't I get a guy like him?

I gently laid my backpack down and took my seat. Mr. Capshaw's back was still turned away— the teacher didn't notice me.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Ward,” he announced, turning around to face me.

Busted.

I flushed scarlet and sunk into my chair. The students around me laughed. Tom smirked at me. This had to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“Like I was saying before Ms. Ward interrupted us, it's time for your final paper.” Mr. Capshaw wrote Final Paper on the white board with a sad face next to it.

A collective groan echoed throughout the room.

Mr. Capshaw put up his hands in defense. “I know, I know. Most of you have been dreading this since the beginning of the year, but I assure you, it's not as bad as people have told you.”

My palms were sweating and I shifted in my seat. I'd heard that Capshaw graded these papers with an iron fist. Since it accounted for fifty percent of your grade, some students failed the class because of it.

“Let me explain what it's all about and then you guys can judge it. I think a lot of you will actually enjoy the process.” A kid on the other end of the room raised his hand. Capshaw dismissed him. “No questions yet. Let me finish.”

The kid put his hand back down. I pulled out my notebook and flipped to an empty page.

“Each and every one of you will be writing a twenty page paper on English royalty,” the professor said in his booming voice. The students looked at one another in confusion. “Pick one royal figure in history and focus on him/her. I need primary sources. I don't want some copy of a wikipedia article. So go to the library and gather as much as you can. I expect a bibliography at the end of the paper.”

“This is what history is all about. We could read endless books about what others have researched before, but until you do it for yourself, you can never really appreciate it. Now I'll take questions.”

A girl in the back raised her hand. The professor pointed at her. “Yes, Ms. Harper?”

“Does the person have to be a king or queen?”

“I'm glad you asked.” Mr. Capshaw walked over to his desk and pulled out a massive tome. “This is the names of all the lords and ladies. You can pick the lowest of the lowest or Queen Elizabeth herself. But I recommend you choose somebody you haven't heard of before. I'd rather not get fifty papers on Prince Harry.”

The girls all swooned.

A student in the front row raised his hand. “Have you ever met any royalty, Mr. Capshaw?”

The teacher looked offended but then smiled. “Of course not. You think the Queen comes by to hear my boring lectures? Anymore questions?”

The professor looked over the crowd of students. “Then I guess were done for the day. I'll be available for questions for the next couple of hours in my office. We'll skip next week's class and come back in two weeks when your paper is due. If you need any help during that time, feel free to email me.”

Everyone began gathering their things and leaving while I stayed at the front of the class. I approached the teacher as he crammed papers into his briefcase.

“Mr. Capshaw, I don't quite understand the assignment. Is this a profile or a summary of their life?”

The teacher grinned. “Ms. Ward, you can do whatever you want. You can make the focus as narrow or broad as you desire. My opinion is to pick something very specific like a romance or big event in their life.”

“What if I can't find what I need at the university library?”

“There are plenty of public libraries that can be of service. If you still can't find anything, come to me and we'll find you someone else.”

I smiled. “Thank you Mr. Capshaw. I'll do my best.”

My silver 64' Aston Martin DB5 rumbled as I weaved in and out of traffic. With the top down, nothing was better. On the road was where I belonged—a place where I could relax and truly be myself. Not stuck in a stuffy castle. The scenery zipped by me as I rode at a peaceful fifty-five km per hour. The sun peeked through the clouds and the air was crisp—a perfect day for driving.

Two checkered yellow and blue police cars sat off in the dirt on the side of the road—a speed trap. Three cops sat against their hoods drinking tea. One of them had a radar gun pointed right at my car. I quickly checked my speedometer and breathed a sigh of relief—I was two under the speed limit. I passed the officers and waved. One of them put his sunglasses on and jumped into his car, blasting the annoying siren.

Here we go...

Bullshit like this always happened in the countryside. The cops were corrupt as fuck. I had grown accustomed to getting flat on my stomach with my hands behind my back. But they would never arrest a prince...

I shifted the the stick-shift and my DB5 roared as it accelerated. The wind blasted through my shoulder-length hair and a grin stretched across my face. The police cruiser wasn't far behind.

I lived for this.

I sped up, taking turns hard and fast. My car swerved in and out of traffic, almost tapping cars as I passed by. The cop was having trouble following me. The two-lane highway didn't leave much room for passing. I looked behind me and raised my middle finger in the air. I gained some distance and pulled off to the side of the road behind some large bushes.

My heart was pumping hard as the police cruiser flashed by, his sirens still blasting. I waited in the bushes for another minute as the other cop car came speeding by. The police around here were pretty fucking stupid.

They weren't going to catch me today.

I pulled out of the bushes and began driving in the opposite direction. The heat would be on for the next couple of hours until the cops gave up their pursuit. I was on my way to pick up my brothers and I was going to be late.

John was going to give me a lot of shit for this.