Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1)
Read Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1) Online
Authors: Hayley Faiman
Tags: #Notorious Devils MC #1
Rough & Rowdy
Copyright © 2016 by Hayley Faiman
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor: RC Martin, Another Pair
Cover: Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
Tanisha Elizabeth — Nisha— Auntie Sheehsa — Boo Bear — My sister from another mister —
My first really bad boy had to be dedicated to you. I hope you enjoy.
Thank you for the years of friendship. Thanks for always being there.
Thanks for always being goofy with me.
That’s Yo Man. Save yourself.
And about a million other inside jokes.
Every man has a wild beast within him.
-Frederick the Great
Kentlee
I
sigh out a frustrated puff of air as I stand in front of the boutique. I don’t want to go inside. I know what lies ahead, and none of it is good for me. It isn’t good for my sanity, my self-confidence—and it certainly won’t be good later tonight when I will, undoubtedly, be crying into a pint of chocolate fudge brownie
FroYo
.
Nevertheless, it is something I have to do. For Brentlee, my one and only sister. My
little
sister. Four years younger than me, only nineteen years old, and she’s getting married. I feel like the spinster-sister standing next to her, even though I am only twenty-three.
I suck in a breath and open the heavy boutique door—plastering on my sweetest smile. I notice immediately that all of the witches are present and accounted for.
“You’re late,” my mother scolds as soon as I walk inside. Well, I have
one
foot inside.
“We’ve been waiting around
forever
. Brentlee insisted we wait for
you
,” Missy, my sister’s best friend and future sister-in-law, points out. She crosses her arms over her chest.
“I was working,” I offer with a smile that looks somewhat apologetic. Though, I’m not in the slightest.
They knew I had to work today. I am lucky to even be off this early. I had to beg for my early release from the menial job I hold.
I am a receptionist and gofer at a local real estate office. I am always given the assignments that nobody else wants—showing rentals. They are appointments that provide income for the company, but no commission for the agents. Therefore, I show them for my regular hourly wage, at night and on weekends.
“
Work
? You need a man.” My mother waves her hand in the air, and inwardly I roll my eyes.
“I’m never going to work. It’s pointless. I want a husband who can take care of me the way I deserve,” Missy pipes up.
My mother pats her thigh with a smile
.
If Missy were to meet a man to treat her the way she deserved, she’d be living in a box down by the river.
My mother married my father,
a doctor
, and quit her job the next day. Then she produced my brother, approximately nine months later, me, four years after that, and then my sister, four years after
that — s
ecuring her role as the doting stay-at-home mother and wife.
By the time we were all in school, I don’t think my father could function without her taking care of
everything
—including
him.
He never mentioned her working outside of the home again. My sister and I were expected to do the same, and marry a man to take care of us. My brother is already in his residency to become a doctor—just like our dad.
Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind being a stay-at-home mother, if the opportunity presented itself; but I’m not going to date dollar signs just to accomplish that dream. I want to meet someone,
fall in love
, and then get married.
Too bad I am too much of a homebody to ever actually
meet
anybody. My previous two relationships were failures—
in a huge way.
I am still licking my wounds from the last one. I closed myself off from most of the dating world after him.
“Jason and I just broke up, mom,” I whine.
She shakes her head. “That was months ago, and he was a loser. You need to see if Scotty has any cousins for you,” she says with a wink. I scrunch my nose.
“Our family is chalk full of successful businessmen. Honestly, I don’t know if you’re any of their type,” Missy sneers.
My mother pretends not to hear her.
Scotty is my sister’s fiancé, and he makes me gag. At first glance, he is just
too
perfect—his hair, his smile, his manners, and the fact that he is preparing to take the
BAR
exam to become an attorney.
In reality, Scotty only
seems
perfect. He lingers too long when he gives me a hug, he stares at my breasts, and he's always –
always
– putting Brentlee down in such a way that she’ll strive to be even better than she was before. He has given me the creeps from day one. He’s manipulative and, frankly, a tool.
Scotty is also nine years older than her; not that the age thing bothers me. It’s just that Brentlee is young and beautiful and should be having fun instead of settling for such a giant douche. Brentlee, to me, is perfection personified. Together, they
look
like perfect robots, designed in a lab or something. It just feels all wrong.
Always
has
.
“Dress number one.” Brentee’s voice floats through the boutique and we all turn around to watch her come through the fitting room with a wedding gown on her slim lithe body.
“It’s so gorgeous,” everybody gushes.
I have to admit, it is very pretty. Long lace sleeves, a sweetheart bodice with lace coming up into a high collar. It is A-line and very Princess Kate like. It is perfect and demur—nothing like my flashy sister.
“Kentlee, what do you think?” she asks looking up through her long, chocolate brown lashes.
Brentlee and I are night and day in the looks department. Brentlee has long dark hair. She’s tall and thin, her skin almost olive in complexion, and she has chocolaty brown eyes. She looks so much like our dad, with his Italian roots.
I, however, am short and curvy with ass and tits that I think are just
too
much
. Unfortunately, I can’t lay off of the
FroYo
to save myself, so the ass and tits are probably forever going to stay. I keep my hair long, past my elbows, and am naturally blonde, like our mom, with pale skin. My eyes are a deep blue, almost black.
Most people don’t even believe we are related, let alone sisters.
“I think you look really elegant, Brent. It’s beautiful,” I admit.
I am telling the truth, but she could wear a trash bag and still look gorgeous. I wish that she would sex it up. She always dresses super sexy, and I don’t think her wedding day should be any different. But it isn’t my place to say anything—so I don’t.
“This is it. Scotty is just going to love it,” she gushes.
My mother and Missy gush as well. I smile politely and wait until I can leave. I don’t gush; it isn’t in me. The gushing is
too
much. I am totally not that jumping-up-and-down-with-excitement kind of girl.
“Okay, Kent, don’t forget—
Saturday
is the bachelorette pre-party. Just a little bridesmaid’s get together, dancing and cocktails. We’ll start planning the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Then we can talk about my bridal shower.
Squee
.”
She actually says the word
squee
. I try so hard to keep from rolling my eyes.
I deserve a fucking medal right now
.
“Saturday night, yeah. I’ll be there,” I nod, tapping it into my phone’s calendar. Though, I’m not quite sure why. It isn’t like I really have much of a social life these days.
“Try not to look homeless,
please
,” Missy snaps.
I pray to Jesus to give me patience before I slap the shit out of this little bitch.
“Cool,” Brentlee grins, ignoring her asshole of a friend. I smile back at her.
Once she changes out of the white gown, she comes right for me and starts to speak in a low tone.
“You’re really okay not being my Maid-of-Honor?” she asks me for the fifteenth time.
Truthfully, Brentlee
had
surprised me when she
broke the news
that I wasn’t to be her Maid-of-Honor, and that it would be Scotty’s sister, instead. It had hurt my feelings that she didn’t want me right next to her, helping to plan her showers and parties. I understand it, though. Missy is not only her best friend, but her future sister-in-law, too.
Brentlee and I used to be best friends. Somewhere around high school, she blossomed into one of the popular girls and had a whole gaggle of girlfriends, whereas I stayed more of a loner. I dated and I had friends, but I was definitely never in the
it
crowd. Brentlee was their damn leader, even as a freshman. Scotty’s sister had been her sidekick from the age of fourteen, so I wasn’t really shocked that she wanted her to take the coveted title of Maid-of-Honor. It stung, nonetheless.
“You’ve been friends with Missy since you were fourteen years old, and you’re marrying her brother. It’s cool, Brent,” I say, plastering on my fake smile. She smiles back—genuinely, I’m sure.
After an hour of wedding talk and harping from my mother, I am finally free. I almost skip down the street toward my car, I am so excited. But I am dressed in my work clothes, a black pencil skirt and satin camisole with five inch, black high heels, so I decide against it.
