Illicit Ink: A Single Dad, Second Chance Romance, page 1
Illicit Ink
A Sexy Single Dad Standalone
Carmen Bishop
Contents
1. Rose
2. Zander
3. Rose
4. Zander
5. Rose
6. Zander
7. Rose
8. Zander
9. Rose
10. Rose
11. Zander
12. Rose
13. Zander
14. Rose
15. Zander
16. Rose
17. Zander
18. Rose
19. Zander
20. Rose
21. Rose
22. Rose
23. Zander
24. Rose
25. Zander
26. Rose
27. Zander
28. Rose
29. Rose
30. Zander
31. Rose
32. Rose
Zander
About the Author
Also by Carmen Bishop
Dorsey Brothers, book 3
By Jessica Wayne
Copyright © 2023. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Dawn Y
Proofread by Tasha Lewis
Photographer: Wander Book Club
Model: Chris Fleming
Cover Design by Lori Jackson Cover Design
Alternate Cover Design by Kat Savage Designs
To the women who have survived douchenuggets.
And to the men who showed us not all men suck ass.
Illicit Ink
Zander Dorsey is the perfect one-nighter.
Tall, muscled, and tattooed, he's the exact opposite of the man I thought I was going to marry.
A man who lied to me, cheated on me, and ultimately destroyed every shred of confidence I had.
Now, after years of being the 'good girl,' I'm looking to make a mistake.
Which is perfect because Zander just so happens to also be a single dad who doesn’t do relationships.
As a chef, I should realize this is a recipe for disaster.
But he's dirty.
Delicious.
A perfect distraction.
But then I get a peek at the single dad beyond the inked wet dream and realize very quickly that Zander might just be what I need…not just for now…but forever.
Chapter 1
Rose
Men. Fucking. Suck.
With eyes full of tears, I stare down at my phone and the seventeen missed calls from Jesse. We were supposed to be getting married. And now, he’s psycho dialing me every five seconds because I caught him in back of my restaurant with the hostess’s mouth on his cock.
My stomach lurches, so I lean further into the toilet.
I wish I was drunk. Pregnant even—which, yes, given my current situation seems a shitty thing to wish for. But, at least, then I’d not feel so fucking pathetic knowing that I’ve been head over the toilet all fucking night for no other reason than I’m heartbroken. And it’s more than that. I feel like an idiot. Like the butt of a joke.
How long had they been fucking around behind my back?
How many times did I sleep with him, next to him, after he’d been with her?
The ring still on my finger glints beneath the pale-yellow lights of my bathroom, and my stomach churns again. I rip it from my finger and throw it across the room then draw my knees back up to my chest.
Someone bangs on my door. I close my eyes tightly. Of course he would come here. And why wouldn’t he? All of his shit is still all over the place: his toothbrush in the holder, his pillow on the bed.
Our coffees from this morning still sit on the table alongside the notebook I was using to plan our life together.
All. Still. Right. There.
“Rose!” a feminine voice calls out, so I flush the toilet and stumble toward the front door on legs that feel like jelly.
I pull the door open and launch myself at my best friend. Nova wraps her arms around me and holds on tightly as I shake violently with sobs that make me feel weak as hell. Another set of arms comes around me, and I reach out to pull our newest friend—Kennedy—against me. Ever since she started dating Nova’s fiancé’s brother, she’s become a staple in my life.
“Hey, we’re here now. Come on, and let’s get you back inside,” Nova coos.
She and Kennedy each take one of my arms then pull me further into the apartment before setting me down on the couch and taking seats on either side of me. Nova withdraws a thermos from her large purse.
“There had better be whiskey in that.”
“Oh, there is,” Nova replies, flashing a smile at me as she tucks the braid of her long, dark hair behind her. “Everett is downstairs in the car should we need him.”
“The brothers are also on standby,” Kennedy offers, “ready to come and help pack all of Jesse’s shit up and—I’m quoting Axel here—throw it to the fucking curb.”
Since both she and Nova are engaged to two of the four Dorsey brothers, I’ve gotten to know them all quite well over the past few months. Unfortunately, having them on standby means they know what happened to me. And for some reason that shames me.
Why? I don’t fucking know. But it makes me feel even more pathetic.
“Thanks.” My chest aches, my stomach churning. “I don’t even know where to start. We’re supposed to be getting married. Buying a house. Having kids. He—he swears it was just a blowjob.”
“Even if it fucking was, that’s bullshit,” Kennedy snaps and shakes her head, then tightens her blonde ponytail. “Dickhead. Want me to kill him for you? I probably know someone who could do it. Yoga women can be quite savage. Headline: cheating dirtbag beaten to death by a yoga mat.”
I lean against her shoulder. “No. Maybe someone to give him syphilis. That could work.”
Nova lets out a soft laugh then reaches up to pull some of the dark hair from my face. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You, miss, are going to go take a shower and put on your comfiest pair of pajamas. Then, we’re going to sit on the couch, get drunk, and binge-watch Christmas movies.”
“It’s August,” I remind her, knowing it won’t make a damn bit of difference.
“And your point?” Nova questions.
“I’m on dinner duty!” Kennedy shoots up from the couch and crosses over to the kitchen.
“Come on,” Nova says as she pulls me to my feet. She half-drags me to the bathroom then reaches down and retrieves my phone. When she looks at the screen, her eyes turn murderous. “Fucking asshole.”
“I can’t believe he did it.” I sniffle. “I mean, you knew him. He seemed so amazing, didn’t he? Didn’t you call him Mr. Perfect? I don’t—” I close my eyes tightly, the image of him with his hand buried in her blonde hair as he—I shake my head. “I’m tired of being upset. Fix me.”
Nova reaches up and runs a thumb beneath my eye, wiping away some tears as she does. “There is no quick fix, Rose. But we’re going to do our best.” She turns on the water in my shower then leaves the bathroom, cracking the door behind me.
I turn to the mirror and wince. Fuck, I look rough. My dark hair is still half-way in its bun from last night’s dinner rush. I still wear my white chef’s jacket though it’s covered in the spaghetti sauce that splattered up from the pan I dropped when someone opened the door and I saw Jennifer with her mouth on Jesse’s dick.
My eyes even look a duller shade of brown. Though that could be due to the massive bags beneath them, thanks to the crying and budding migraine.
I groan as I strip out of my clothes and toss them into the hamper. Steam begins filling my small bathroom, and I breathe it in.
As twisted as it seems, I think what pisses me off the most is my reaction. I’ve never been a wallower. So, he cheated? Time to move the fuck on. His loss and all that. Yet, here I am, throwing up in a fucking toilet because the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with decided he’d rather get sucked off in the alley behind the restaurant I own.
And why does that location make it seem so much worse?
Showered and feeling a hell of a lot better already, I move out into the living room, wearing an old pair of sweatpants and a tank top. That’s when I hear him.
“Please, Nova. Just let me in. I need to talk to her, and she won’t answer any of my calls.”
“Can you fucking blame her, dickhead?” Kennedy demands.
“She will talk to you when she’s ready,” Nova adds.
“At least, let me come in and pack a bag. All of my stuff is here.”
“Then you should have thought about that before fucking around on her. This is Rose’s apartment. You moved in, remember?”
“I just need my stuff.”
“Go buy new stuff,” Nova snaps. “Now, either leave, or I’m going to call four big-ass dudes who would love to show you the door.”
“You’re threatening me?”
I take a deep breath and cross over to rip the door open. His light brown hair is a mess, his eyes wild as he stares down at me. And yet, he still looks just as fucking handsome as he did yesterday morning when we walked out, hand in hand.
“Rose. Please—”
“Get a fucking bag and get out. You have two minutes.”
Nova and Kennedy both step out of the way though they remain near the open door as Jesse enters the apartment. He’s always been a presence. I thought it from the first time we met when he’d come in to apply for a server job three years ago, but now he seems more so. The proverbial elephant in the room.
“Give me five minutes to explain.”
“And just what are you going to explain?” I demand. “How she tripped and ended up on your dick like it’s a fucking lollipop? Or, better yet, why her tits were out of her shirt and your hands buried in her hair?”
His cheeks redden.
“Wait, I know.” I snap my fingers. “How about we talk about the fact that you did it during our busiest time of night, in the alley behind the fucking restaurant that I own!” I scream it then plant both hands on his chest and send him stumbling backward.
“Rose. Calm down. We can talk about it. We can move past this.”
“Your ring is on the floor in my bathroom. Get it. Get a bag. Pack some shit. And get. The. Fuck. Out.”
“We’ll talk at work—”
I whirl on him. “Excuse me?”
“You always said our relationship status would not affect me working for you.”
Mouth hanging open in shock, I whirl on Kennedy and Nova. “Did he seriously just say that?”
“He did,” Nova confirms.
“Heard it with my own ears,” Kennedy replies.
“You are fired, Jesse. You and Jennifer both. I truly wish you the most happiness together.”
“You can’t fire me over this! You said—”
“Then consider me firing you for leaving my restaurant, in the middle of your shift, to mouth-fuck a hostess who did the same thing.” I take a deep breath, feeling stronger than I have since last night, and cross my arms. “Now, get your shit.”
Jesse turns away, not saying anything else as he disappears into the bedroom. I take a deep, steadying breath and turn to Nova and Kennedy.
“I feel—better. Fired up. Like, fuck him.”
“There’s our girl.” Nova grins at me.
As Jesse gathers his things, I think back on all the times we’d spent curled up together on the couch, talking marriage and babies. Buying a house. Building a life together. I think of the sex. It was good—never anything crazy—but that was on him.
Traditional is how he’d said he enjoyed it.
Traditional. And I catch him with his cock out in an alley.
I close my eyes, tears threatening again. But I will not cry anymore.
Five minutes tick by—three more than I said he could have—and he’s walking out of the bedroom with his suitcase. “I’ll text you about the rest.”
“You do that,” I snap then hold out my hand. “Give me your key.”
Jesse sets his suitcase down, reaches into his pocket, and withdraws his set of keys. After a few seconds, he’s placing it in my hand and lifting his belongings again. “I’m sorry, Rose. I was weak, and I messed up.”
“Weak.” I shake my head. “I have no patience for weak men.”
He leaves, and I slam the door in his face then turn back around and take a deep breath.
“You okay?” Kennedy asks.
“Surprisingly better than I was. Glad he saw me after I showered and not before.”
“You’re a hottie, no matter how you look,” Nova replies with a smile.
“Day-old spaghetti and vomit definitely are in this year,” I retort.
She and Kennedy both cross over and wrap their arms around me. I return the gesture, more than grateful for not just one friend—but two in my life.
“I don’t want to stay in tonight,” I say. “Let’s go out.”
Chapter 2
Zander
Two Weeks Later
Music hammers me from all sides as I sit at the bar, nursing an old-fashioned. It’s been a fucking week. With my ex-wife’s parents trying to threaten me that they are coming for partial custody of Aara, I’m stressed to my max.
Thankfully, my mother, being the saint that she is, offered to take Aara this weekend to give me a chance to figure out how the hell I’m going to handle Danny and Sheila. Assholes. They’ve literally never met Aara, not one single fucking time.
And now, they’re going to try to take me for partial custody because their daughter decided to run off with some wannabe musician, leaving me to care for our daughter alone for the last five years.
Five years.
They won’t win, but the stress they’re going to put me under as I try to find a way to shield my daughter from them is enough to have me half-drunk at a bar on Friday night. I hold up my hand to ask for another. The bartender, a man I’ve known since grade school, nods then begins prepping another drink as two blondes flaunt their double d’s in his face in hopes of a free drink.
Little do they know, Max is happily married to his high school sweetheart and hasn’t even looked at another woman since he was fourteen years old.
“Here you go, Z.” He slides the drink over to me. “You good?”
“Not particularly,” I reply. “But I will be.”
“Aara okay?”
“She’s fine. Baking cookies with Grandma this weekend.”
Max smiles. “She’s going to love that.”
“She is,” I reply.
“The shop okay?”
I nod. “Illicit Ink is doing better than ever.”
“Good. I need you to finish my sleeve. Can’t have you closing up shop before then.”
I grin and shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” Max is called away, so I continue nursing my drink. Before Aara, I’d had no plans to settle down. “Far too wild” is what most people would have called me. But seeing those two pink lines changed me.
I was all in.
Ready to be a dad.
Ana, however, was not even a little interested in being a mom. She’d told me she was going to get an abortion, but I begged her not to. I told her that I would raise the kid if I had to. Not too long after, she agreed to stick it out with me for the long run. We’d gotten married, planned a future with even more kids, and then she fucking bailed the second we were released from the hospital. Ran away with a musician and never looked back.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. And I don’t harbor any ill feelings toward her because it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.
But Danny and Sheila? Fuck them. They wanted nothing to do with Ana, Aara, or me.
Five fucking years.
And now, they think they’ll be able to saunter in and fuck up Aara’s head just like they did Ana’s. Motherfuckers.
Someone presses up against my side and I glance over as a red head presses her barely covered tits against my arm. She leans up against the counter, giving me ‘come fuck me’ eyes that are lined in a thick black. Pouty red lips part slightly when she smiles.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Not interested,” I reply as politely as I can.
“Not even for just a night? You look good enough to eat.”
“Nope.” I turn back to my drink.
“Come on, I heard you—”
“Guy said he wasn’t interested.” Even with the music thumping loudly around us, I recognize the feminine voice as a dark-haired beauty slides up on my other side, glaring at the redhead.
