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Engaged to the EMT
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Engaged to the EMT
Piper Rayne
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2018 by Piper Rayne
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Design: RBA Designs
Line Editor: Gray Ink Editing
Proofreader: Shawna Gavas, Behind The Writer
Contents
Foreword
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Cockamamie Unicorn Ramblings
About Piper & Rayne
Also by Piper Rayne
Luca Bianco is a jerk. There I said it.
* * *
He thinks he’s so suave and sexy, walking around in his paramedic uniform stretched out by all his hard muscles and saving lives every day. I swear he thinks every woman in the world would kill for a chance to be with him.
* * *
Men like Luca are good for one thing only — a one-night stand — not commitment. I don’t care if my friend did pay good money at a charity bachelor auction for me to go on a date with him, I refuse to do it.
* * *
That is until Luca offers me a deal I can’t refuse, and I agree to be his pretend fiancé.
* * *
The heat that’s simmered between us for a decade ignites and I’m not sure even Luca will be able to kickstart my heart after I call code blue.
* * *
What’s that saying? Love is blind?
* * *
Not true. I can see this head-on collision coming a mile away.
Chapter One
Luca
* * *
“Guess what, Ma?”
My mom’s soft smile appears first, her unconditional love-filled eyes set on me.
“My baby?” She lightly smacks my cheek in a way to ask, ‘what am I doing here with Lauren?’ Even Mama knows I’m no saint and until last night I was far from having a girlfriend let alone a fiancée.
Maddie finds her way to Mauro and Vanessa to Christian, the four of them staring at us like we’re aliens who just descended upon Earth.
I raise our linked hands together, sparing a quick glance at Lauren who doesn’t look as enthusiastic as me. “Your baby is getting married,” I announce.
I understand the question marks filling their eyes, we’ve been at each other’s throats for as long as we’ve known each other.
All of their mouths are open and I kiss Lauren on the cheek. We need to up the PDA on this endeavor to make it believable.
Newsflash, the engagement is fake.
How did we get here you ask?
Months ago, I volunteered to be auctioned off for a date for the First Responders Fallen Heroes Bachelor Auction—I’m a paramedic. It was a sure thing that some sweet piece of ass would bid on me and a big fat donation would be made to the charity.
After witnessing two women wrestling on the floor over who would win me, I was eager to see who won the right to be on my arm for a night. Until I found out a girl from high school and two of her friends decided to switch up paddles and place each other’s bids for fun. This left me with Lauren Hunt. And yeah, it may have hurt my ego a bit that Lauren didn’t bid on me herself.
But in order to understand why I’ve decided to deceive my family, we have to go back to last night.
Scratch that. We need to go back to Friday, so you can understand why Lauren agreed to my crazy request in the first place.
Chapter Two
Lauren
“Lauren!” The little girl’s voice even puts a smile on grumpy Jeremy’s face, who’s been clear to everyone today that he doesn’t want to be here.
“Polybriana.” I open my arms and she wobbles over to me. Her signature fire engine red braided pigtails swishing from side to side.
She falls into my arms and I hold the nine-year-old tight to my chest.
“I brought you something.” She steps back, her eyes taking in the room around us and landing right on Jeremy.
Jeez, is it instilled in girls to want the bad boy from birth?
Her cheeks flush and she pulls off her backpack, pulling out a red, black and white thread bracelet.
“A friendship bracelet?” I’ve gotten lots of drawings during my time as a pediatric physical therapist. I have a shelf full of coffee mugs, thank you cards and I love every single one. A bracelet is a new one though.
“Well it’s just a bracelet,” she says.
Gotta love kids and their ability to tell you the truth.
“I love it,” I say, clutching it to my chest.
“Hawks colors!” Her little eyes sparkle as she looks at her creation.
“Did you catch last night’s game?”
“Kane was amazing.”
I sit down on the exercise ball, bringing the bracelet around my wrist. “Help me tie it?” I ask because it will only help her fine motor skills.
We manage to get the bracelet on working together and I figure I’ll cut the extra long strings off later.
“Perfect fit.” I smile down at the sweet girl whose had such a hard road. She had developmental delays that were found much later than they should’ve been.
“Hi, Jeremy,” she says as the thirteen-year-old boy walks by on the beam, trying to keep one foot in front of the other.
“Hey,” he mumbles, not even giving her a fleeting glance.
“Briana, love the braids.” My boss and Jeremy’s PT, Peter, smiles at the little girl and then winks at me.
Briana giggles and shoots me her usual look when it comes to Peter.
“Come on girl.” I stand from the exercise ball, moving it out of the way and pat the mat for her to lay down.
“He likes you,” she says, handing me her foot. I take off her brace and start bending her legs.
Since it’s our warmup, she doesn’t wince. The side of her face is pressed to the mat facing the direction of Jeremy as Peter tries to get him back on track after a horrific car accident. He’s come a long away despite his attitude. Peter’s been way too nice and hasn’t shown enough tough love, in my opinion, but that’s his personality.
“He’s my boss,” I tell Briana with a shake of my head.
“When’s Jeremy done?”
She changes the subject away from Peter, thank goodness, but moves onto a topic I always hate discussing with her.
She’s been here for five years now and has seen many kids come and go, knowing she might never be the one to finish her therapy.
“He has at least s
ix more months I’d say. Enough about boys.” I tickle her ribcage. “Tell me about school. What are you learning?”
Briana laughs and tells me about learning Spanish and starts saying a few phrases I know from my own years of taking Spanish during school. She thinks it’s funny when I can respond back to her. We finish our physical therapy set a half hour later, Jeremy already gone, so Briana’s attention has thankfully been solely on me.
“See you in two days.” I hold up two fingers.
“Don’t lose the bracelet,” she sing-songs, walking out to her mom in the reception area.
I wave to her mom, who adopted her five years ago and literally saved her from a life spent in a wheelchair.
Once she’s gone, I see I have five minutes to grab a quick snack before my next client, so I head to the lunchroom. The first thing I notice when I walk in is the red piece of paper with white writing attached to the front of the refrigerator.
Ugh, the Christmas party. I’d forgotten about that.
“Are you going?” I turn to find Peter in the doorway. His arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe.
“I have to check my schedule. I completely blanked.” I open the fridge, take out my apples and peanut butter and sit down at the table.
Peter steps in and sits down across from me.
“Did you see what the company is doing now? A talent show.” He crosses his legs, his eyes following the apple dipped in peanut butter to my mouth.
“Well, for that reason alone, I might have other plans.” I crunch down on the apple.
Peter’s familiar creepy smile appears on his face while his eyes fixate on my lips as though he’s thinking about something other than an apple being in my mouth. Oh God, please tell me I’m way off base.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. Gives everyone a chance to show their fun side.”
I swallow my bite of apple. “Still, I think I’ll pass.”
“That’s a shame.” He straightens his back, linking his hands on the table, leaning toward me.
Please, Jesus, NO! I telepathically try to tell him not to do it. I know Peter likes me, but he’s my boss. No way should he cross that line. Then again, I don’t remember anything about non-fraternizing in my contract.
“I was thinking that maybe it’d be fun if we went together. You know. You’re single. I’m single.”
“And you’re my boss. I’m your employee,” I gently remind him.
He chuckles, leaning across the table farther, the legs of his chair sliding along the linoleum of the floor.
“I’ve checked and there’s no problem with us dating.”
“How could that be? It’s twenty-eighteen.” I eat another piece of my apple because it will keep me from blurting out something I can’t take back. I don’t want to blow the best job I’ve gotten since graduation.
“We’re small. Truth is I think maybe when they started the company, they forgot to add it to the policy manual.” He raises his eyebrows.
By they, he means Ollie and Reba Garfield who started this company. There are three buildings in all and Peter manages this one which is located close to the pediatric hospital. Ollie and Reba seem like the types who would hire a lawyer to make sure all the t’s were crossed and i’s dotted, so I’m not sure what’s more disturbing—the fact that the policy doesn’t exist or that Peter has looked into it.
“That seems unlike them.”
He shrugs. “Ours to take advantage of.”
My stomach twists. He can’t be serious. How do I turn down my boss and still keep a good working relationship? This is exactly why good ol’ Ollie and Reba should’ve triple checked to make sure the ‘no fraternizing’ clause was in the employee handbook.
“So?” he asks. “Come with me. We can meet up on Fridays and practice our routine.”
“Routine?” I choke out, a little bit of apple falling out of my mouth onto the table.
Anyone else and I might be embarrassed.
Peter stands up, grabs a napkin and cleans it up for me.
Damn, I thought maybe I grossed him out and he’d lose interest.
“We could do Sonny and Cher, or we could do a skit if you don’t want to sing.” There’s hope in his eyes. This has to be a joke.
Just then my co-worker Cindy knocks on the frame of the break room door.
Thank goodness, my next appointment is here.
“Hey, Cindy.” I stand, disposing of the rest of my apple and peanut butter into the trash. Is it bad if I just ignore his request?
“I have a package for you.” She walks over to me while her gaze is on Peter.
I inspect the small white box with my name on it.
“A courier delivered it.” Curiosity is all over her face, but I can’t assuage it because I have no idea what this is or who it’s from.
“Weird.” I sit back down and open the box.
In it is a slew of Brach’s candies. The ones I used to eat at the grocery store in my high school days. A bunch of us would stop there to grab a drink and snack after classes.
“Oh, there’s a note.” Cindy’s arm appears from across the table and points to said note.
“I thought you were single?” Peter asks from across the table. The smile has left his face now.
I’m not sure what to say.
“Open it!” Cindy’s practically jumping up and down, biting her lip. You’d think the package was for her.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Peter asks Cindy.
Her gaze shifts his way, then back to me, her lips tipping down. “After Lauren reads the note, okay, Pete?”
Cindy is always pushing the limits and Peter always lets her. Hence her being the only one who shortens his name.
“Fine,” he lets out the exasperated word.
I slide my finger along the seam, and I have to admit there’s no small amount of giddiness inside me. I haven’t received a package in…forever. The last time was probably my boyfriend, Cody, back in high school when he’d leave notes in my locker.
Inside the envelope, there’s a note scribbled in male handwriting.
Dig under the sweetness for your real surprise.
I drop the note to the side. Cindy picks it up and reads it. Sliding the candy away, I blink to make sure my eyes aren’t teasing me.
A Blackhawks ticket.
I gingerly pick it up to investigate whether it’s real.
“Oh, a sports ticket?” Cindy’s voice is filled with disappointment.
Clearly, she doesn’t know me at all.
“To the Blackhawks!” I say, raising it into the air. “Man, who would have sent me this? It’s not my birthday or anything.”
“Check the note on the back.” Peter sullenly points to the ticket as I’m doing a little dance in my chair.
I’ll be in the same building as Duncan Keith. I hope they have good security.
I turn the ticket over to find there’s a Post-It note attached.
* * *
Stipulation to accepting ticket: you have to go with me. One date. Your friend paid a lot of money to the charity. I picked something you’d enjoy. Somewhere we don’t even have to make conversation. Text me your answer.
Luca
* * *
Even his note is full of attitude. The way he scribbles his name reminds me of a serial killer or something.
“Cindy,” Peter drones.
“Going. Going.” She leaves the room.
I unwrap a royal caramel and bite off a piece.
“Not many guys would do something like that. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” Peter stands up, peering into the box and the ticket next to it.
“Well…” Just as I’m about to correct him, a brilliant idea forms in my mind.
“I guess you already have a Sonny for the talent show.” He nods his head and starts to walk out of the room.
“Peter,” I call out, and he stops, circling back around.
I shouldn’t lie. It’ll only make things mor
e complicated. “I…I’m sorry,” I say, the lie burning in my throat. Though technically I didn’t say what I was sorry for so I could have just meant I’m sorry that going out with you is the last thing in the world I want to do. Who’s to say?
“Don’t be. I should’ve asked you sooner. Your next appointment is probably here.”
He leaves the break room and I finish my caramel, the taste not nearly as good as it usually is knowing I just lied and acted like Luca was someone I’m actually interested in dating.
I stare down at the ticket. Blackhawks. I’ve never been and he’s right, Vanessa paid a lot of money for a date at that Bachelor Auction. If I don’t go, it’d be like throwing her money out the window. Money she worked hard to earn at that stupid gambling club she was involved in. Plus, he’s right, we don’t have to talk much if we’re cheering on the team.
I pick up my phone and go to his number.
Me: Pick me up an hour before game time.
Three dots appear immediately.
Asshat: You like the candies?
Me: I like the ticket.
Asshat: I’ll pick you up an hour and a half before game time.