Jade reached over the table, taking Amy’s hand and yanking her out of her chair. With each zombie-worthy step she took, I knew she was plotting the way she was going to kill me. Once she came to stand where I was, I took her hand and faced her.
“Jersey, who knew that you would be the one to crack that anti-love shell I had protecting my heart. But you did… sure it started with hot sex—” Shrill whistles and crude acknowledgments interrupted me. With a laugh, I continued: “Still, you managed to change me in the best of ways.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the boxless ring, because I couldn’t trust my girl’s roaming hands from discovering it. I had bought it months ago, just after returning from Costa Rica, in fact. And I would’ve given it to her that day.
But I knew she’d think I was too impulsive, that it was too soon. I could clearly hear her voice in my head, pointing out that we didn’t even know each other’s favorite movie, dessert, or color. Or how we never even had a real date, and until we interacted together in the real world, how would we know for sure?
Well, I learned all those things and then some. I even learned her ring size. So now… I had proof that I most definitely knew for sure.
With that resolve, I dropped to one knee and said, “Marry me?” Her eyes widened. Who could blame her? There I was, the ruthless divorce attorney known as a shark proposing in front of a crowd. Pushing through the little seed of doubt that began to sprout in my gut, I added, “I love you. I will always love you, so be my forever.”
She forgot all the people watching and smiled through tears that began to shimmer in her eyes. “Yes… yes… yes.”
I hastily slipped on the three-carat ring before standing and kissing the shit out of her. More whistling and chatter came at us, but I heard none of it. And when she was the first to break our kiss and pull her face away far enough to stare into my eyes, I would’ve subjected myself to all that angst once again to see this joy written all over her face.
“I love you, Jersey.”
“I love you too… but I will get you back for embarrassing me.”
“Bring it,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not scared.”
“Apparently not.” Her attention floated toward the crowd, still clapping and watching. “You were so confident I would say yes, huh?”
While staring into her gorgeous blue eyes, I admitted, “I was confident that I wouldn’t allow you to say no.”
The End
Read on for the first chapter of Not a Chance in Hell,
Brad’s story, and the third and final stand-alone novel in
the Navarro Triplets Series.
Chapter One—Brad
“Okay… next up is…” I glanced down at the clipboard and read, “Jeff and Sandy, who have chosen the song ‘Endless Love.’” Hearing another couple butcher yet another sickly-sweet duet forced me to suppress an eye roll. Would it hurt any of them to choose Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On”?
The giddy pearl-wearing redhead came center stage with a tall skinny blond dude who looked as though he’d parked his retro Volkswagen van outside. They exchanged dumbfounded looks while no doubt sizing the other up.
I gave them a 20% shot at connecting.
This real-time dating game called Kismet Karaoke may have been my idea, but it wasn’t because I was a romantic at heart. Nope. As the karaoke couple that I’d randomly paired began to sing their hearts out, I stared out at the mass of bodies celebrating Valentine’s Day in my bar and saw one thing beyond all the red and pink articles of clothing.
Profits.
Some encouraged with smiles, others ridiculed good-naturedly… and while they all drank and ate, I made money.
Yes, Valentine’s was a day I made serious bank, but it needed to be said that I also did well every other day of the year. Normally, Brad’s Tavern—I’m Brad—was the place young professionals came to de-stress after a long day, watch a game, or hook up. Either way, holiday or a Tuesday night, owning this hot spot in Manhattan afforded me a very comfortable lifestyle.
But it all came with hard work. From the hours I put into the marketing plans to get people through my doors to the decision to offer three different cheese options for their burgers, these were all calculated measures toward success.
Tonight, however, it was the calendar date that had the single people coming in, hoping to make a connection. And if they already had a significant other, then they were there to validate the day.
What a crock of shit.
It pained me to say that my own brothers had fallen for the ruse. We may have been identical in looks—yes, we’re triplets—however, personality-wise, we were on completely different points of a triangle. Aside from our mirrored images, in my opinion, Max was the sensitive one, Nate the brain, and me the stud. Although those two would negate my assessment.
Still, combining strengths and adding our “model-worthy looks” (a label many have used regarding our faces) meant the Navarro brothers did really well with the opposite sex.
Out of the three of us, Max was the first to have found love on this very stage while singing karaoke with a stranger. That night, he had come to help me out when one of my bartenders called out sick. As a thank-you, I rigged the contest and paired him with the brunette beauty he’d kept staring at from across the room. My mission was to get him laid after a breakup. Long story short, those two had a one-night stand that turned into forever and were now pregnant with their second child.
Then there was my other brother, Nate, the attorney… a damn good one, in fact. The man spent his professional career helping to end marriages and making a fortune doing so. And then the ass forgot all about his convictions by jumping the single-man’s ship headfirst into love-infested waters… without a life preserver. Shit, he’d fallen hard—belly-flop style. In just four months’ time, he’d gone from being a serial bachelor to a sap in love. And about an hour ago, there he was dropping on one knee, in front of all these people, to propose to his girl, on Valentine’s Day!
Who did that?
Idiots did.
Me, I preferred enjoying the bevy of beauties this city had to offer. It was the constant stream of women who came and went that frosted my red-velvet cake.
Speaking of… my eyes landed on a stunning blonde standing alone at the bar. Big blue eyes that I could see from across the room, hair that looked like spun gold, and from what I could tell, a rockin’ body. She wasn’t wearing red or pink or a variation thereof. Maybe the sheer turquoise blouse was what had caught my eye to begin with, and I loved how wearing it was a symbolic fuck you to the holiday.
I’d never seen her here before; I would’ve remembered. Delicate fingers gripped the stem of a martini glass, the lemon peel curled over the rim, giving away her drink choice. She watched the singing on stage, unaware most of the men were staring at her. Meanwhile, I observed awhile to see if her date was in the restroom or getting himself a fresh drink. But when minutes went by and she remained alone, hope bloomed in my gut.
Her eyes cut to mine, and it took a few seconds for me to realize that everyone else’s had as well. My attention flipped to the couple a few feet away, and it only then occurred to me their song was done. Stepping toward the microphone, I gave a tight smile and said, “Well… okay, thank you Bill and Julie.”