Done With Love Read online

  Praise for Niecey Roy’s Novels

  “All the elements for a fun, sassy romance: a sexy hero and the unbreakable bond of sisterhood. Delightful!”

  ~Bestselling Author Kate Perry

  “Funny, sassy, sexy and brilliant book...Absolute Must Read!!!”

  ~Amy from Schmexy Girls Book Blog

  “Crazy sisters, best friends, a slimy ex, and a gorgeously sexy sweet man. Who wouldn’t want Another Shot at Love?”

  ~Stacy Nickelson, It Started With A Book Blog

  Fender Bender Blues “Classic cars, garden gnomes, and steamy romance? My kind of book!”

  ~Bestselling Author Kate Perry

  “Reading Niecey Roy’s Fender Bender Blues is like eating Lays Potato chips. Once you start, you can’t stop! It’s just that good! For a new (non-fattening) addiction, read Niecey Roy!!!”

  ~Robyn Peterman author of HOW HARD CAN IT BE?

  “Fender Bender Blues is a rip-roarin’ good time from start to finish. Filled with handsome men, crazy friends, and love scenes to rev up your engines, you don’t want to miss this one!”

  ~Amie Louellen author of Brodie’s Bride and Love Potion Me, Baby

  “If you’re not a romance lover you’ve got to pick up Niecey Roy. I’m in-love with the way she writes romance. Thanks to her, I no longer cringe at the romance section.”

  ~Kristi Chambers, Kristi’s Book Readery

  a What’s Love??? novel

  Book 2

  by

  Niecey Roy

  Done With Love

  Series: a What’s Love??? novel

  18+ adult content and language

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Niecey Roy

  Niecey Roy’s Website

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover Art by RBA Designs

  Cover image of Tyler Stines by Eric Battershell, www.ericbattershell.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher/editor does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Also Available in Print.

  River Mist Media, 2014

  ISBN-10: 0692212426

  ISBN-13: 978-0692212424

  DIGITAL ISBN: 9781310209048

  Published in the United States of America.

  DEDICATION

  ~ To Liz ~

  For being my best everything through my worst anything.

  Your friendship means so much to me.

  THANK YOU

  Special thanks to the women I dragged with me

  to hell and back to get this book to print.

  You read the book and then read it again…and probably again.

  You were my sounding boards. You let me message you with late night ideas (and even responded…ha!). You were absolutely vital in creating this book!

  And thank you to my loyal cheerleaders who are always, rain or shine,

  sharing my posts and pimping my books!

  You are amazing, and I *lush* you!

  ~ Stacy Nickelson ~ Kristi Chambers ~

  ~ Casse NaRome ~ Donna Sturgeon ~

  ~ Tori Gould ~ Robin Malone ~

  ~ Kristin Beaty ~ Michelle Hart ~

  ~ Tobi Helton ~ Jamie Fredrickson ~

  ~ Zee Hayat ~ Lheanne Spicer ~

  BLOGGER LOVE

  Thank you to all the bloggers who have offered me your friendship.

  THANK YOU for being a part of my writerly journey,

  for your support and friendship, and all your shout-outs.

  Other books by Niecey Roy

  What’s Love??? novels

  Another Shot At Love, Book 1

  Done With Love, Book 2

  Reluctantly In Love, Book 3

  Standalone novels

  Fender Bender Blues

  Prologue

  When I was seven, I fell in love with fairytales. Breathless first kisses, white weddings, and tiaras—every little girl’s fantasy. Not any fairytale would do, either. I, Alexis Anne Gorecki, had my sights set on becoming the next Sleeping Beauty. When I was ten, I auditioned for the part of the princess in our school play.

  It hadn’t mattered that my Little Golden Book edition was earmarked on every page or that I’d watched the cartoon a hundred times and could recite the movie almost by heart, it still wasn’t enough for me to land the part. While I cried my eyes out, my twin sister Gen consoled me by drawing ridiculous caricatures of Mrs. Nelson, the play director, and of Whitney Delaney, the snotty-pants who’d been cast as Princess Aurora. Whitney’s idea of being a good sport was to rub her victory in my face for the rest of the year.

  I eventually got over it, but I never got over longing for “the fairytale.” For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted those magical memories ending with a happily-ever-after. So, I’d been planning my dream wedding even before prince charming had a face in my fantasies.

  It wasn’t until this very moment, minutes before I would say “I do” in real life, it hit me, hard—none of those fairytale stories ever mentioned what happened after the marriage vows.

  “Did you really think Jeremy would walk away from his inheritance for puppy love?” Deborah studied me as if I were a slow child whose ignorance was nothing more than an annoyance. My future mother-in-law, prim and perfect in an expensive and conservative ivory cap-sleeved jacket dress, fingered the pearls around her neck while she studied me with bemusement.

  I bristled, straightening in the beige upholstered chair identical to the one on which Deborah sat. We were in the bride’s dressing room, separated by a short hallway from the cathedral already full of wedding guests. I couldn’t believe Deborah’s nerve.

  “I would hardly call this puppy love,” I said, working hard to keep my rising frustration under control. “We’re getting married.”

  “Simple, simple girl.” She shook her head. “Jeremy’s pedigree comes with a price—a girl like you just won’t do.”

  As stunned as I was, anger stabbed at me, piercing my skin to awaken my sluggish brain. “Jeremy loves me, Deborah. You need to let it go.”

  Her blue eyes narrowed to annoyed slits. “If you two hadn’t flaunted that damn ring around town before I could quash the engagement, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” The disgust dripped from her mauve painted lips.

  “Except, here we are,” I said through clenched teeth. There was so much more I wanted to say, but calling my future mother-in-law a stuck up bitch wasn’t a good idea, no matter how true it was or how much I wanted to. “It’s too late. We’re in a church.” I gestured my satin gloved hands down at my ivory wedding dress. “This wedding is happening.”

  “I agree, just as soon as you sign this contract.” She held up the cream bond paper, neatly tri-folded to fit in her clutch.

  I shook my head. “I’ve already signed a prenup—I’m not interested in taking Jeremy’s money, whether you believe that or not.” I clenched my fists together to keep from slapping her. “I’m not signing this ridiculous contract agreeing to an annulment. Our marriage isn’t a business arrangement.
I love Jeremy, and I want to stay married to him. You are insane.”

  “You will sign it,” she insisted, leaning forward with a triumphant smile on her lips, “because Jeremy already has.”

  I jerked my head as if she’d slapped me. No, he wouldn’t. He’d never do something like this behind my back. Never.

  Her smug expression told me otherwise.

  “You forced him to sign it.” There was no question behind my words, only profound alarm.

  “I didn’t have to force anything, and neither did his father. We merely explained to him the consequences of not signing it. He enjoys his lavish lifestyle.” She set the contract in my lap. “It’s not as simple as the money, Alexis. You don’t belong in our family.”

  The beautiful grandfather clock across the room tick, tick, ticked, shouting there was no time for this. And hadn’t that been Deborah’s plan all along? To spring this unconscionable ultimatum on me so there’d be no time to back out, not with a church full of people who’d come to see a wedding.

  “Get out of my dressing room.” Fury scorched through me, shooting straight to my hands, clenched on the arms of the chair.

  “You will sign this contract. Because if you don’t, we will disinherit Jeremy and freeze all of his assets. None of it’s his, as you know. And he knows it, too. Which is why he signed it.” She flipped to the last page and raised it for my inspection. The blue ink he’d signed his name in jumped off the paper.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

  A flash of movement from behind her caught my eye. Gen had disappeared into the adjoining room to look for a bobby pin just before Deborah knocked on the door. Gen gave me a wide-eyed stare from the doorway, but I kept my attention on Deborah.

  She produced a pen from her clutch. “The terms are simple—a couple of weeks of married bliss, and after Gerard wins a seat on the Senate, you and Jeremy will get an annulment and go your separate ways.”

  I scowled. “And if Gerard doesn’t win the election?”

  “Of course he’ll win. Jeremy’s engagement to you has done wonders for Gerard’s campaign. Everyone loves a big, beautiful wedding. So you’ll put on a smile, go out there and give them a show. It’s very simple. The media’s here to gobble it right up. It’ll be all over the news by tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t even comprehend the amount of rage pulsing through my body, couldn’t believe this evil, black hearted woman sat speaking these words. “I would rather walk out of this church right now than sign that contract and let you and your family use me. Get out of my dressing room.”

  “If you refuse, you will regret it. Do you understand, Alexis?” Her lips pressed into a hard line, and I leaned back in my chair, away from the frigid cold emanating from her empty, icicle heart. “I’ll ruin your reputation in this city. You’ll lose your clients, you’ll lose your business, and once that’s gone, I’ll ruin your father’s little…tool shop. Do you really want to be the reason he has to file bankruptcy? Maybe even lose his home and all because you were selfish?”

  Blackmail. She was crazy, but I believed she meant every word. I pictured Jeremy on his knee in our favorite restaurant, his vow to love me forever if I honored him by accepting his proposal. His blue eyes glistening with tears as he claimed he would never hurt me, how the thought of growing old with me made him the happiest man in the world. Lies.

  In that moment, the love I’d thought Jeremy felt for me whooshed away to nothing, and I was empty. There was no point in fighting—Jeremy had already given us up.

  She pressed the pen into my hand and smiled. All I could see were her black, soulless eyes. The evil queen. The pen shook in my gelatin-weak grip, but I signed below Jeremy’s signature. I blinked, and a tear fell from my eye.

  I thrust the contract and pen to her chest. “There.”

  “You really shouldn’t cry on your wedding day,” Deborah cooed, and I fought the urge to snatch back the pen so I could stab her in the eye with it. She stood, tucking the contract into her clutch. As she pressed the clasp together, she said, “As the contract states, you’ll be rewarded for your trouble.” She bared her teeth in a smile. “We’re grateful for the part you and the wedding have played in Gerard’s campaign. People just love a big happy family event like this.” She sing-songed the words. “I don’t understand this generation’s obsession with fairytales. It’s ridiculous.”

  “I don’t want anything from you.” I rose to my feet and strode to the door to fling it open wide. The hallway was empty—everyone was seated in the cathedral except for the bride’s wedding party, who waited for me so they could walk down the aisle and lead me to my fiancé already standing at the altar.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Deborah said. “We’re not unreasonable people. The amount of money we’re paying you will keep your little bridal boutique in business for many, many years. You could open three boutiques, if you wish.”

  “Get. Out.”

  She shrugged and swept across the threshold. She turned, her lips parted as if she meant to say something more, but I slammed the door in her face. Dragging in a deep breath, I turned and leaned with my back against the door, my eyes closed. I willed my heartbeat to slow, smoothing the skirt of my dress as if it might calm me.

  So much for my dream wedding. The thought made me snicker at the absurdity of it all. She was right about one thing—fairytales, how ridiculous.

  “What in the hell was that?” Gen snapped. When I opened my eyes, she stood before me, her hands clasped in tight fists at her side. “You signed it!”

  There was nothing to say. I had no energy left. This morning I’d awoken excited, the picture of a blushing bride. Now all I wanted to do was go back to my apartment and sleep.

  Maybe… I pinched myself then winced. No. This wasn’t a pre-wedding-jitters nightmare. This was real.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “I had to sign it.”

  “Like hell you did.” She took my bare shoulders in her hands and gave me a small shake.

  I shook from her grasp and went to the table to pick up my bouquet. The thing had cost a fortune, the flowers fresh, some of them driven in on a van and placed in an ice water bath so they wouldn’t bloom until today. The Buchanan’s estate was filled with the same flowers for the reception—no expense had been spared. The photographs would look like something out of a bridal magazine. And it’s all just a campaign gimmick.

  I wondered how long Jeremy had known about this. When had he signed the contract, agreeing to leave me after his dad won the election? How long had he been lying to me? He’d said nothing at the rehearsal dinner, acted as if everything was fine. As if he loved me. Liar.

  The music changed. The beautiful melody drifted in to us through the crack under the door like a countdown, mocking me.

  That’s when the shaking that had seized my hands ebbed out to the rest of my body, and the world shifted under my beautiful Gucci heels. I shook so hard, I worried my bones would break. Or maybe that was me—broken. Gen wrapped her arms around me. I fought to catch my breath with my face smashed against her bare shoulder.

  But I didn’t cry. I can’t ruin my makeup. I blinked back the tears, but they spilled anyway.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Gen rubbed the bare skin of my back just above the laces.

  “I can’t.” I shook my head. “You heard what she said—she’ll ruin dad’s business.” I sucked in a panicked breath. “It’s too late.”

  “Jeremy is a rat,” Gen seethed.

  “I can’t believe he did this to us.” The betrayal stormed through me and centered in my chest where my heart thrummed with bewilderment. I fanned my neck with my hands and sucked in a breath, the corset under the heavy bodice unbearable. “This thing is so tight.”

  “We’re going to slip out the back. Right. Now.” Gen yanked the door open. “She’s sick. Jeremy’s sick. That whole family is sick.”

  “I can’t just leave. All those people. The
y’re here for my wedding. And the media…We hired a string quartet.” I sounded hysterical, because I was.

  Gen gave my shoulders a gentle shake. “Lexie, you can’t wig out right now.”

  “I forgot to eat something today,” I muttered as I stepped over the threshold into the hall. “I should have eaten.”

  “Lexie,” Gen pleaded.

  “It really will be the prettiest wedding,” I rambled as my shaky legs carried me down the hall. Glancing over at Gen, I smiled. Her face was pale under the bright hall lights. “Did you see the cathedral? All those ribbons and flowers.”

  Earlier when I’d gone to peek at what the decorators had done, all the stress of the last few months lifted away on the scent of gardenias and honeysuckle. My engagement had been a rollercoaster, but I’d finally made it to my wedding day. I’d thought it was something to celebrate. How wrong I’d been.

  My head was so fuzzy with disappointment and confusion, I couldn’t think straight.

  “Lexie, we need to talk about this,” Gen begged.

  She waved her bouquet at me. The stem of hers and the other bridesmaids’ bouquets were wrapped with both plum and ivory ribbon. Even my wedding colors had been determined based upon the Buchanans changing what Jeremy and I had planned as a spring wedding next year to a fall wedding this year. Purple was my favorite color, and I’d chosen a beautiful, shimmering lilac for the spring. As an October wedding, the accent color was plum—dark, like the fog Jeremy’s family had thrown over what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life.