DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Read online

  I know I hate feeling stupid.

  Paul should have told me about that super skank so that I could have at least been prepared when his asshole cousin came to see me.

  If I hadn’t been so surprised Alex wouldn’t have had a reason to laugh at me and I would have been okay. I was just pissed at the time and ready to lash out at Paul.

  Which leads me to this last thought, and one that makes me feel like an idiot. I never let him explain it all.

  I should have. Dammit!

  “I just need to get to the bottom of this and do the whole wedding fiasco, and then I’ll go see Paul and pray that we can get back to where we were before this all happened.”

  Percy snorts and shakes her head in defeat.

  “Babe, you’re making a mistake. Call Paul and tell him what’s going on. Don’t let this drag out and hurt you both any more than it already has. Trust me, when you lose love it is not a good feeling.”

  “Perc—”

  “Oh stop going all soft on me! One freaking kiss and you think I’m going to start sharing feelings with you, Harper? Get real. The kiss was not that great.”

  “Hey! It so was. I gave you tongue and everything.”

  “Whatevs. Now stop all that weird-ass crying and let’s get this shit done so I can get me some indecent cowboy photos.”

  “Not in this lifetime, perv. That cowboy is all mine.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Be Careful What You Wish For

  Dot

  It’s Thursday. Freaking Thursday! And I still don’t have the foggiest notion of what the hell is behind the wedding plans that my family is bound and determined to make happen.

  I spent all of yesterday thinking of a reason they could be doing this and it’s a mystery.

  Rolling over with a groan, I stretch and bolt upright, making tracks for the bathroom and getting there just on time as I puke my guts up.

  The heaving keeps going and going till I feel like I lost something vital, and actually consider routing around in there to make sure I’m not flushing something I still need.

  “Hey! You okay? I told you not to eat those crab pockets that were in the refrigerator. That shit was growing legs,” Indie yells through the door as I slump down and will myself not to start crying.

  How in God’s name can I be sick? Now, when I need to be in freaking Ali fighting form to pull off the YouTube video of the century.

  Guess you really shouldn’t have nibbled on those crab pockets, my inner demon crows back, making me sneer at myself.

  “Go away, you meanie!”

  “Sheesh, fine. And here I was gonna tell you that your ex-almost-mother-in-law is here and we can all hear you gagging from the living room!”

  “What?!”

  I scramble up and almost take a header back into the toilet bowl when my stomach revolts and starts doing the jig inside me. I puke a little more and finally manage to get to my feet and clean myself up a little.

  I’m tempted not to bother as a wave of depression hits me, but the last time I tried to skip the grooming, the boys showed up and I got an hour long talk about what can happen when a woman lets a man turn her into a bag lady.

  Technically that wasn’t true. I have a home and no bags of junk to speak of, but they just shook their heads and pointed at the shower.

  Judgemental much?

  So instead of going out there immediately and telling Mama Summers to take a hike, I shower and scuttle to my room to dress, even brushing my hair and throwing on a light layer of makeup to cover some of the freckles I got from being out in the sun on Paul’s ranch.

  Heart squeeze.

  I recognize his mama immediately because her eyes are the same chocolate brown that I miss so much and her smile is just as teasing as Paul’s.

  Don’t cry, Dot.

  “Mrs—”

  “Call me Soph, dear, I’m no one’s missus. Haven’t been for a long damn time. Now what’s this I hear you won’t let my son grovel and make a spectacle of himself to win you back?”

  “Erm.”

  The woman is short, like at least an inch shorter than me, her hair is a sleek bob of dark browns and grey, and she’s dressed in paint-splattered jeans and a cardigan that looks like she could sleep in it and has.

  I like her on sight. What I don’t like is the twinkle in her eyes as she looks at me and smirks.

  “Come on now, sweetie, stop flapping those lips like a fish and let’s get this mess sorted before I have to slap some sense into the both of you.”

  Indie and Percy are on the edge of their seats as I gingerly lower myself to my own seat while Soph takes the stool in the corner.

  “Don’t you two have someplace to be?” I ask, hinting broadly that I want them to get the hell out of here.

  “Nope.”

  “Nada. Our schedules are completely free for this show. Oh hey, girl, I’m Percy, the sexy one, and this here is Indie, the psycho murderer in training. So you’re the one who incubated the hottie cowboy? Good freaking job.”

  Jesus take me.

  Soph’s eyes sparkle with her amusement and I roll my eyes and kick Percy, not at all subtly to get her to shut up already. My freaking pits are pouring with sweat as nerves hit me and I look over at the mother with my heart beating two hundred million miles a minute.

  “Don’t look at me like I’m going to eat you, child. I can assure you in this fight I am totally in your corner. My son can be a royal ass when he wants to be, and I am not here to talk him up if that’s what you think.”

  She’s not? Not cool. A mom is supposed to be behind her kids all the way, and I am not sure I like her lack of allegiance to my Paul right now.

  That gets her my narrow-eyed glare and she starts chortling, freaking honestly chortling at me with glee just as the door bursts open and an old lady shuffles in, her steel wool grey hair standing at odds and ends as she grunts and falls down beside me.

  “That was so not on,” she gruffs, making Percy and Indie giggle outright.

  She sounds like she smokes two packs a day, and from the glint in her eye when she catches my wide-eyed stare, I’d put money on this old battle-ax toking cigars like a real woman.

  “She is gorgeous, the boy was dead to rights when he described her,” she huffs, inspecting me.

  She stops just short of opening my mouth and inspecting my teeth so I don’t take too much offense when she pinches my arm and declares me good breeding stock.

  They start talking about anything and everything that has to do with Paul.

  “Whoaaaaa! Stop. I can’t process all this in one go, and to be honest, it’s not exactly helping me to hear about him running buck naked down a hall at college and getting himself arrested for indecent exposure.”

  Although…

  “We know, dear, we’re just keeping you distracted while I gear up to get to the whole point of this.”

  “Which is?” I press, feeling a little green again.

  Damn you, crab cakes. How thou didst deceive me last night.

  “Honey, I know my kid and I know he probably made a huge mess with you because he got scared to tell you the truth. That there proves to me that boy loves you. Paul isn’t afraid of a damn thing, and if he didn’t fall for you he’d have laid it all out on the table and found a way to seduce the end result out of you. He’s smart that way and charming as the day is long.”

  “Okay.”

  “So it just goes to show that he is in love with you and he doesn’t know how to fix this. Did you know that he and Alex were childhood buddies? Paul was a few years older but he was always letting the little bastard hang around him and he’d teach him how to fish and climb trees and whatnot.”

  Paul and Alex were friends? The news shocks me because I have yet to see two people hate each other more than those two do. Paul’s more of the “I’m moving on and leaving you behind” kind of guy, and okay, yeah, I see him needing to stick it to the little runt, but Alex…I’ve seen the spite there.

 
“What happened?” I ask, accepting coffee as Percy serves us all and takes her seat, her attention rapt on the two woman.

  “Well, Paul went to his senior year of high school and got fast tracked since his grandfather rode him so hard to always achieve. Alex was starting to get antsy by then and he took it into his thick head that Paul was the favorite. That was not at all true. He was the heir and they needed him, but he was never really welcomed in that house. We all knew it and Paul would laugh sometimes when I asked him if it bugged him.”

  “It didn’t?”

  I’m shocked when she shakes her head and smiles.

  “He’s like his daddy, that one. Strong and in control of himself. He said that if they couldn’t be decent then he’d just take what he could and move on from them all.”

  “Smart. The man has a good head on his shoulders,” Indie muses, breaking the silence that’s descended.

  “Yes he does. My boy had a not so great childhood growing up and I tried to always let him know that he was ours and we loved him.”

  “He knows that.”

  I don’t think he could possibly worship his mother more, and I tell her so with a smile as the cigar-smoking husky lady beside me chuckles deeply.

  “He’s worked for years to plan things just right so he can get out from under this family. I didn’t think he would ever do a damn thing to sabotage it and maybe lose his advantage, but it seems there’s one thing more important to him than his plans. You.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes you. Do you know that when Alex found out he’d taken off with you they started investigating his moves and found out about his plans to sell?”

  “Crap.”

  “Indeed. They tried real hard to derail him and I have never in my life seen two men scramble to outdo my boy.”

  “They didn’t get it right, did they?” I ask on a gasp, ready and more than willing to do anything to get things back on track.

  Not that I know how this whole business stuff works, but I have Jack, Freddie, and Woody, and those three could steal a kill from a shark and still be bad enough to tickle its belly without being bitten.

  “Oh no.” She chuckles and I almost jump clear off the sofa when the grandmother guffaws like Homer Simpson. “He’s way too smart for those idiots, but the point is he risked it just to get to you. That tells me a lot about how Paul feels about you, Dot. It tells me that he really loves you.”

  I see that now as everything falls into place in my mind. Paul always treated me like things were serious right from that start, and I suppose for him they were, because deep down he must have wanted more form me all along.

  I remember the way his eyes would follow me around the room whenever we had family dinners and parties that Mother insisted I attend.

  I also remember the way his eyes would go hard whenever that rat fink cousin of his would come anywhere near me.

  I always thought it was him disapproving of the great Summers clan having to mix with my less than moneyed family, but that I soon realized was not the case.

  No, it’s so clear now I feel like laughing and crying all at the same time. Paul wanted me even then, and he used whatever means he could to get me.

  “Well fuck.”

  “Hallelujah!” They all cry in unison, making me jump in my seat.

  “See, Soph, I told ya she’s smarter than she looks,” Percy crows.

  “Do you already know each other?” I ask suspiciously, eyeing all four of them with narrow-eyed disgust.

  “Sheesh, of course we do, you big idiot. Who do you think got Jules and his crew to drive Paul so crazy he had to pull his head out of his ass and come back to get you?”

  Soph titters and blushes at the mention of Jules’s name and I feel my stomach revolt a little. Jules is like the epitome of the old lone cowboy riding the trail all on his own. Soph? She’s decked out in designer gear even if it is paint splattered and looks like the cat dragged it in.

  What a weird combination.

  “Fine. Shit. I-I want to find him, I do, but I still have just two things to do before I can have at Paul.”

  “Maybe two old ladies can help you?”

  “Ma’am, could you please just tell me your name, seeing as we’re gonna be family and all.”

  “Call me Grammy, child. Now, your plans.”

  I explain it all while Percy and Indie light a smoke and drag Grammy into their life of criminality and being toasted, but by the end of my speech and nervously laid-out plans they’re all relaxed and I only have Soph to contend with.

  “You say they almost shat themselves when you turned up with Paul? Your mother said ‘the wrong Summers?’ You are absolutely sure about that?”

  “Yes. Positive. I remember because that pissed me off for Paul because it was just so insulting and I wanted to hit her. He stopped me, though. Too nice for his own good. I should have cleaned her freaking clock for talking about him that way,” I mutter, my eyes going hard.

  “Hmm. This sounds like money to me. Did you know that Alex lost all his money in bad investments and his father cut him off when he found out that he’s been seeing Sarah again?”

  “No, but that definitely sounds interesting. Why would my parents be in on it, though?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Enlightenment and the Next YouTube Hit

  Dot

  It’s officially Friday and I’m sweating again. And I’ve puked so much that Indie and Percy have banned me from going near Hector who’s in the church and crossing himself as we speak.

  I’m a ball of freaking nerves here and I feel sadder than I did yesterday because I learned two things. Paul went home and just gave up on me.

  I tear up whenever I think of that.

  And I still don’t have all my answers. Give me a break, this isn’t like a movie. A clue doesn’t just fall into my lap from out of nowhere so that I can wrap this up with a nice little bow and prance on my merry way.

  But that’s not so important right now, even if the mystery of it is killing me where I stand. No, what’s most important right now is what is about to go down.

  Hence my sweating pits and the need to puke yet again. I am a wallflower, well, not anymore, but that doesn’t mean I purposely want to cause a big scene and put it on the Internet.

  I’m going to, though. I am so going to because it’s my one gift and offering to Paul that may just have the power to erase what I said to him two days ago and get him to give me another chance.

  “Stop worrying and come on over here so I can finish your hair off,” Callie mutters, shoving me back down in front of the mirror.

  I’m dressed in mother’s wedding gown—after some alterations that made me believe my boobs may be growing. My hair and makeup is done, hiding the dark circles and green tinge that I’ve been sporting for days.

  I’m ready. Now all I have to do is stop shaking and find a way to walk down the freaking aisle without blowing chunks.

  “I’m scared.”

  “Good, that just means that what you’re doing is worth doing,” Luci trills from her seat where she’s drinking a beer and relishing the fact that she’s four kids less for the next few minutes.

  Poor Freddie.

  “Easy for you to say. Yours didn’t go on the Internet,” I mutter, getting a side slap from Callie.

  “No, mine did and I can tell you that it isn’t that bad.”

  “Because Jack keeps getting it removed whenever Indie posts it again!”

  Callie grins and flips Indie the bird before turning back to me and squeezing my shoulders.

  “You can do this, Dotty. Remember, this is the last leg and then you can go home to your cow crap and that hot hunk of a man.”

  Sure.

  “If he’ll let me. Soph said he was just angry when he went to see her and I don’t blame him. I basically spit in his face and insulted his life, Callie!”

  Yeah. I feel like shit now that I’ve had time and more time to think about what I said.

  A kn
ock at the door has me tensing and I fully expect Dracula’s bride, AKA Mother dearest, to come prancing in. Color me purple when instead a middle-aged, balding man stands in the doorway instead, looking very ill at ease.

  “Miss Dorothea Harper?”

  “This hot bitch right here, Bilbo,” Percy says, waving her beer bottle at me.

  Don’t ask me why my crew are boozing in a church. That should be pretty self-explanatory, I think.

  The man turns bright red at the giggled insult and seems to gird himself when he enters and Callie closes the door, leaving him alone in a room with five not so sober women.

  Except Callie, but that animal does not need booze to be a clown.

  “What’s up? Is this where Al has me signing a prenup, because that would just be redundant,” I snort, taking a large swallow of my own brew.

  What! I need it. Actually I need hard liquor but Percy told me Jesus is watching so I had to settle for this weak shit and hope he doesn’t take too much offense to it.”Er, no. I, um, I am Mr. Fredericson, attorney-at-law, representing the vested interests of the late Mister Elisha Summers and Theodore Harper.”

  Um, okay.

  “Yeah?”

  My gramps was not my number one fan, cold asshole. And I have never in my life met the deceased Elisha Summers.

  “Well, the thing is, now that you are fulfilling the contractual clause within the will and last testament left by Mr. Summers, it is up to me to ensure that you receive the money left to you.”

  Screeching freaking tires.

  No wait, that’s the girls hooting and screaming like a pack of wolves and hyenas. I have to admit that I’m a little lost still and it’s not just the beer talking, no matter how much I want to say it is.

  My brain’s just frozen as he keeps babbling about some deal the great-grandfathers stuck as a safety net for both families should they reach a time of crisis.

  When I marry a Summers male we will both receive an amount of three hundred million dollars when the ink on the marriage licence is dry.

  “Holy fucking shit. Holy, holy shit!” Indie yells, jumping up so fast she bobs and weaves a little. “Are you saying that she could marry any Summers male and still be rich as fuck?”