He brought a fake fiancee to family dinner and she's stirring up trouble.
Carter Holbrook--bad boy, heir to billions, and the family screw up. He can't help but cause trouble wherever he goes, be it at a family gathering...or at Allie Larson's bar. For his latest and greatest instigation, Carter wants to bring this sassy bartender home for dinner at his family's posh New England estate.
Proud of her work ethic and self-reliance, Allie will do (almost) anything for money, and she readily agrees when Carter asks her to be his fake fiancee. Keeping business and pleasure separate is how she's survived on her own all these years, and to endure the long weekend as Carter's fake fiancee, Allie concentrates on the facts.
One: His family is horrified to learn she's Carter's (fake) fiancee.
Two: It doesn't matter how trashy she acts because she will, thankfully, never see Carter or his family ever again.
Three: Carter actually kisses her.
Wait...what?
Allie knows she's not the type of girl who really marries a guy like Carter. She knows the weekend at the Holbrook estate was just for laughs. But when fate serves up a special drink of its own and pushes Allie and Carter together, can Allie let herself be loved?
The Screwup is book 2 in the Holbrook Cousins Saga, but can be read as a standalone novel. This 85,000 word steamy romance novel has no cliffhangers but does have a very happily ever after.
Chapter 1-Allie
It was Thursday night at the Wildcat bar, and the topless contest was about to start—the topless contest for men, that was.
If it were women, that would be unseemly. Allie Larson, the bartender, snickered to herself.
"Greasing up for me, boys?" she asked as she deftly poured shots for the shirtless marines who flexed their muscles at her. The entrance fee for the contest was ten dollars, but the grand prize was a kiss from Allie.
It was a hot event; the bar was packed, and the fire marshals were waiting outside the building to shut the establishment down if things spiraled out of control.
The Les DesChamps Marine Corps base was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Marines with too much disposable income made up most of Allie's clientele. Despite their raunchy behavior, Allie had a soft spot for the young enlisted men who frequented her bar.
"Have your eye on someone good?" her fellow bartender and roommate Stacy asked as she quickly poured a set of Jägerbombs for the boys.
"They're all about the same," Allie said.
They watched as the marines who were competing took a fortifying shot and greased up.
"I have my eye on Carter Holbrook," Stacy said, giggling.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Moneybags," Allie replied with a snort.
"You mean billionaire heir," Stacy replied, handing over three beers.
"I can't believe his father dumped him in the military," Allie said. "If I had Holbrook family money, I would send my kids to nice places, not the military."
"He flunked out of Harvard," Stacy told her. "He's a tragic case, though. His aunt killed his little cousins in that house fire over Christmas a few years back."
"Oh, he's related to them?" Allie said. "That was a horrible story." She had heard about that fire. It was international news, after all, but she never had connected it to the Holbrook family. "You know all the gossip, don't you?"
"Oh yes," Stacy said, "I follow his family religiously. He was just in his cousin's wedding. It was a lovely affair." She sighed longingly.
"Hey!" Allie said, banging a glass in front of Stacy. "Pour more drinks. I want to clear a thousand in tips tonight. I need to pay for another college course. I’m almost finished with my degree."
Stacy wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe you're actually still trying to finish college. You're almost thirty; it seems pointless now. Just stay a bartender. Tips are good, and the view is nice," she said and winked at an exceptionally muscular marine.
"I can't bartend in my forties," Allie scoffed. "I'm not going to end up like my mother and rely on an ever-decreasing quality of men."
"There's no shortage of qualified men here," Stacy said. Ducking back behind Allie to hook up another keg, she said, "I'm landing a husband this year, and I don't care what I have to do."
"Set your sights lower than Carter Holbrook. His parents won't let him marry some trash like you." Allie winked at her friend to let her know she was kidding.
Stacy stuck her tongue out at Allie and slid the drinks across the bar. Bert, the owner of the Wildcat, did a sound check on the speakers and handed Allie the microphone.
"Hey, boys," she said over the sound system.
The marines all hooted as she jumped up on top of the bar.
"It's midnight, and you know what that means!" She grinned at them as they catcalled her. "It's shirtless contest time. Let's have our first contestant up here."
The marine took a shot from one of his buddies then jumped up on the bar. His flexed his muscles and did a little dance.
Allie watched and made commentary as each of the ten contestants strutted up and down the bar top. The Wildcat held one of these contests every month or so, and she had the timing down pat. The last contestant was Carter Holbrook. He sprang up onto the bar in one fluid motion then stalked toward Allie.
"Last and perhaps the least—maybe his battle buddies can let us know what he looks like in the showers—Carter! Show us what you've got, devil dog!"
The marines watching cheered as Allie pursed her lips and blew a kiss at Carter.
The marine stopped directly in front of her and did a startlingly sexy stripper move. She could tell Carter Holbrook's good breeding in the way he walked. He didn't have a decade of stress lines on his face, his teeth were straight and white, and his hair, as long as it could be while still being within regulations, was glossy.
Though she considered herself a grizzled veteran of the Camp Les DesChamps bar scene, Allie blushed when Carter looked straight at her, a bedroom look in his eyes that promised pleasure. He gave her a mock salute then did a backflip off of the bar.
"Wow," she said into the microphone, hoping no one noticed the squeak in her voice. "Looks like someone isn't drunk enough!"
The marines all hollered.
"Someone buy this man a drink, and then I'll make my decision." She jumped off of the bar and helped Stacy fill more drink orders.
"Who are you going to pick?" Stacy asked her.
"Me, obviously," Carter Holbrook said, pushing his way in front of the bar. He passed her ten one-hundred-dollar bills. "A round for everyone!" he yelled over the din of the bar.
Allie started pouring drinks, pointedly ignoring Carter. He reached a hand over the bar to grab for her.
"No!" she said and smacked him on the hand with a metal spoon.
"Ouch!" he yelped, jerking his hand back.
"Don't reach over my bar," she growled and gestured threateningly with the spoon.
"Yes, ma'am."
After the drinks were distributed, Allie grabbed the microphone and climbed back up on the bar. "It's that time of the night, boys. I'm going to declare a winner. We had a great showing tonight, and I can tell no one's been skipping PT."
"Who's the winner?" someone yelled out.
Allie smirked—she loved drawing this out.
"And after much careful deliberation, the winner is…"
All the lights in the bar came on. The marines hissed and shielded their eyes.
"Hey!"
"What the—" her patrons cried.
Several firemen pushed their way inside.
"Clear out! Clear out now!" The head marshal pushed his way through to Allie and gestured for her to give him the microphone. "Everyone needs to go back to base," he announced over the sound system. "This bar is over capacity. All of you need to leave immediately."
He handed the microphone back to Allie.
"Sorry, boys. You heard the fire marshal. Everyone settle your tab and exit, please, in an orderly fashion."
As the marines either filed out of the bar or lined up to pay, she and Stacy hurried to settle any remaining tabs.
"Who won?" Carter demanded, cutting in front of the line.
"Contest was canceled," she said while mentally trying to tally one man's total.
"But—"
"You’ve already paid, so leave. Now," she ordered.
Carter looked at her petulantly. "I would have won. I want my kiss."
"Out!" she yelled.
Chapter 2-Carter
Shivering in the November chill, Carter walked back to the Les DesChamps base with his friends. Tyler was half carrying Leo, who had just spent the majority of his paycheck on alcohol.
"I should have won," Carter complained.
Leo flung an arm around his shoulders. "You were great," he said.
His alcohol-laced breath made Carter gag.
"Hold on," his friend slurred. "Gotta use the men's room." He staggered over to a pile of trash. "Hold me up," he said as he unbuttoned his pants, swaying.
Carter propped his friend up as Leo watered the garbage heap. Carter heard something rustling in the trash pile.
Leo yelled, "It's a rat! It's going to bite my—"
"It's not a rat," Carter said as the animal nosed its way out of the garbage pile. "It’s a dog!"
"That is the ugliest dog I've ever seen," said Tyler.
"Here, pup pup!" Carter called, bending down and holding his hand out for the dog to sniff. The little white dog crept over to him, shivering.
"She's probably cold," he said. "You're so skinny!"
The dog looked ill. It was missing an eye and part of an ear, and it walked with a limp due to an amputated front leg.
"What’s her name, do you reckon?" Tyler asked as Leo pitched forward and landed face-first in the urine-soaked garbage pile.
Carter picked up the dog with one hand and used the other to help Tyler haul Leo up. Gagging from the smell, the men slowly started the walk of shame back to base.
"I think I'm going to call her Maggot," Carter said. "She's little and white."
Tyler nodded. "Makes sense to me."
"Should we do a rideshare?" Carter asked.
"Not with that animal and Pukey McPuke-Face over here. A walk is good. It's not that long. We'll sober up in time for PT," Tyler replied.
The sun was just starting to rise as the guard at the gate greeted them. They weren't allowed to have pets in the barracks, so Carter shoved the dog down the front of his pants.
"I bet we make it back just in time for PT," Tyler said.
Leo yawned and stretched as he handed over his ID. "Nice walk."
"We carried you through most of it," Tyler said with a glare.
The guard waved them through, not asking about the bulge in Carter's pants. He and his friends jogged the rest of the way back to the barracks and changed for PT.
"This sucks," Carter said under his breath as their lieutenant stood in front of them, practically dancing on the balls of his feet as he gave some stupid motivational speech.
"At least you're almost out," Tyler whispered him. "Couple more months, and you're a free man."
"I won't miss this place for one minute," Carter said as they all started off on the morning run.
Carter could smell the alcohol wafting off of Leo's sweat as they walked back to the barracks after the lieutenant released them.
"I think you might have a drinking problem," he told his friend.
Leo made a rude gesture. "You're about to have a dog problem. I heard a rumor that Sergeant is doing room inspections today. You need to find something to do with that animal."
Carter ignored him. They never had room inspections on Fridays. He fished the dog out of the nest she had made in his dirty pants and headed to the showers. There wasn't any hot water, of course, so he cleaned himself and the dog off as quickly as he could. While dressing in his room, a fist banged on the door.
"Inspection!"
"No," Carter groaned as the door slammed open. He stood at attention as his sergeant and a corporal stepped into the room he shared with three other marines.
"Is that a dog?" his sergeant asked after a moment. "You're getting a write-up, Lance Corporal, and that animal is going straight to the pound."
"But it's a kill shelter, sir," Carter said, as he quickly thought up a lie. "And she's not my dog. She belongs to a friend of mine; I found the dog wandering around. Just let me call my friend and—"
The sergeant held up a hand. "You have thirty minutes, and that animal had better be gone when I come back."
"Yes, Sergeant," said Carter as the sergeant and the corporal left the room.
Carter slumped down on Tyler's bunk. "What am I going to do?"
"You don't have anyone you can call?"
"Not that could be here in thirty minutes!" Carter said and curled up on the bed. "Think," he told himself. Something dug into his hip, and he pulled an old pizza crust out from Tyler's sheets.
The dog wagged her stubby tail.
"This might be the last meal you eat," he told her sorrowfully.
The dog gnawed on the stale crust as Carter's phone beeped. His rideshare app notified him he still had fifty percent off his next ride.
"I think," Carter said, smiling, "I have a solution."
Chapter 3-Allie
After Allie spent hours arguing with the fire marshal, the Wildcat was slapped with a fine. She was thankful the fire marshal hadn’t shut them down for good.
"You all keep having violations," the fire marshal said sternly. "The noise complaints, the trash your patrons leave outside. Y'all need to clean up your act."
After they finally finished scrubbing the bar and prepping for the next evening, Allie washed her face, made some instant coffee, then sat in her car and logged onto her phone for her next job, driving for a ridesharing service.
"You can take me home, right?" Stacy asked her.
"Sure, but if a ride comes through, I have to grab it," she warned her roommate.
"It's super early, so there probably won't be anyone needing a ride yet." Stacy yawned.
"I hope so. I'm beat."
As Allie pulled out onto the main road to take them to the small apartment they rented, a notification came through on her phone.
Pickup at Camp Les DesChamps.
She accepted the ride.
"That's odd," Allie said, taking a sharp turn to drive toward the base.
"I wonder who needs to be picked up at this hour," Stacy said, snuggling down in her seat. Allie opened the windows.
"Hey, it's freezing!" Stacy complained.
"We smell like stale booze. I don't want a bad review," Allie warned. "It's probably some officer needing to go somewhere. The last thing I need is to lose this gig."
After presenting their IDs at the front gate, Allie drove slowly to the pickup location indicated by the blue dot on the map. They stopped in front of the barracks.
"Oh my goodness," Stacy said, sitting upright in her seat. "It's Carter Holbrook."
"Hi," Stacy said as they pulled up in front of him. He had a cardboard box in his hand. Allie tapped the rideshare app.
"You want to go to New York City?" she screeched. "I have to bartend tonight. I am not driving to New York City!"
"Look here," Carter said, opening the door and climbing into the back seat of her car.
Something in the box was moving.
"Is that a rat? What is that?" Allie demanded, turning around in her seat.
"Relax," Carter told her. "This is Maggot."
"You brought maggots into my car? Get out. Now. And cancel this ride."
"Please?" Carter said. "I just need you to babysit my dog until I can work something out. We aren't allowed to have pets in the barracks."
"I'm not driving your dog to New York," she said.
"Then put in whatever destination you want. I just need you to hold the dog for me for a couple of days. Here," he said, handing her a wad of cash. "This should cover food, vet, grooming, whatever you need. If you spend more, here is my contact info," he said then took her phone and typed in his information.
Allie raised an eyebrow.
"Just look after her, okay? Please?" Carter asked.
"Fine," Allie said. "Only for a few days."
Stacy took the box from Carter, batting her eyelashes at him. Allie hit her friend lightly on the leg as Carter scooted out of the back seat. He gave Allie a thumbs-up as she drove away.
Allie took a look at the dog and said, "That is the most pathetic animal I have ever seen."
"I think she's a Chihuahua mix," Stacy said.
Allie changed the destination to a veterinary clinic across town. After calling to see if they would take a walk-in, she and Stacy drove over.
She received a text from Carter while they sat in the waiting room.
Everything okay?
Allie wrote back,
I'm changing her name. How does Margot sound?
Carter replied,
Perfect!
"This dog is just hungry and dirty," the vet said after looking Margot over. He pulled two ticks from behind her ear and gave Allie some flea medicine.
"Let's go shopping!" Stacy said, holding up the little dog.
At the store, they filled up the cart with toys, treats, and grooming items. Stacy also found several little outfits for the dog that Allie thought were too expensive.
"We are not wasting Carter's money on those," Allie said with a frown as Stacy presented the pink sparkly dresses she had selected.
"Just a sweater?" Stacy pleaded. "Look, she's cold!"
Margot shivered, and Allie relented.
In the car, Allie logged back into the rideshare app then decided against it and closed it. She still had all that money from Carter. It had been more than enough to cover food, bedding, and the vet bills. The leftover amount was more than what she would earn driving for the rideshare company in a week. She sighed to herself.
"What wrong?" Stacy asked as she dug through the bag of goodies they had bought for Margot.
"Just wish I were born rich is all," Allie said as she drove them back to their apartment.
"Maybe you can land a nice officer," Stacy said. "But not Carter. He's mine, so hands off!"
Allie laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it."
After returning to the small apartment she shared with Stacy, Allie logged onto her computer and started working on that week's homework for her actuarial science and statistics double major. She tried to concentrate on the complex mathematical formulas, but she kept letting herself be distracted as she perused the internet for photos and information on Carter Holbrook. There were pictures of him in his cousin's wedding and older pictures from his little cousins' funeral.
Allie read that their mother, Danielle, had died a year ago. She was killed by Carter's father when trying to kidnap Grant Holbrook, Carter's long-lost cousin.
"Their family sure is complicated," she muttered to herself. Margot lay at her feet, fed, clean, and warm. Allie reached down to pet the dog, who grumbled in her sleep.
"Glad I don't have a family to deal with." Allie had run away from home almost eleven years before when she was still in high school. Her mother's creepy husband had come into her room one night when he thought she was sleeping. She hit him in the head with a lamp, and he tried to strangle her.
There was a story in the paper the next day about a girl Allie's age who disappeared and was found dead weeks later. The girl's stepfather was arrested. It was a wake-up call, as Allie didn't want that to be her. So she stole all the money in her stepfather’s wallet, packed up her things, and headed east. She was going to try to go to New York City but only made it as far as North Carolina.
"It's nice here, though," she told Margot. "Rent is cheap, the internet is pretty fast, and the Marine Corps base means there's always people to buy alcohol."
It was a little lonely, though. She didn't dare date any of the marines. They were all patrons at her bar, and she had a strict rule of not dating customers. Ever. She had tried it once, and it had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
She flipped back to the tab of Kate and Grant Holbrook's elaborate wedding. Wistfully, Allie let herself daydream about becoming rich and marrying a handsome man. She would live in a beautiful house and have a fun and carefree existence, and all of her problems would be solved.
Chapter 4-Carter
That weekend, Carter flipped through the photos of Margot that Allie sent him. The little dog looked happy and safe. One of the pictures was a selfie of Allie and the dog. The hard-nosed bartender looked young and pretty in the photo. Carter was so used to seeing her all in black in a dimly lit establishment.
She is really attractive, he thought. Her toned arms and her full chest were prominent in the picture. Carter fantasized about what it would be like to run his hands down around her chest and let them settle on the narrow waist and slightly curvy hips.
Carter smiled. He had solved his dog problem and had a pretty girl's picture on his phone. He was riding high on his good mood, but a text from his brother brought him back down to earth.
We should talk. Free at 3?
Mark knew he was free at three. There wasn't anything else going on. He wrote back.
Fine. I'll meet you at your office.
Carter double-checked his uniform to make sure it was neat then started the long walk over to his older brother's office.
Captain Mark Holbrook was waiting out in front for him. Carter saluted his brother, and they went inside the building.
"Hardly anyone’s here on account of it being Saturday," Mark said, turning on the light in one of the conference rooms. "I have some work to finish up, though."
"Working on your PowerPoint skills?" Carter sneered.
"Ha ha, very funny. I heard you recently acquired a dog," Mark said, sitting down at the table.
"Wow, good news sure travels fast around here," Carter said, leaning back in a creaky chair. "It must be a slow week."
"You can't have pets in the barracks, Carter. You're almost out—can't you keep it together until January? Then you'll be free to waste your life as you see fit."
"Screw you," Carter said and lowered his voice as another officer in the building gave them a strange look through the window of the conference room. "At least I was actually deployed and saw combat. You've spent your contract sitting behind a desk."
Carter saw his brother's face redden. He knew it was a sore point for him. He felt bad going for the kill, but he hated it whenever his family talked down to him.
"You and Dad," Carter said, "all you do is complain about me. I never did anything to you. I certainly don't have a bunch of kids running around like Uncle Walter."
"Grant isn't a bunch of kids," Mark countered, "just one. And you better not have any kids!"
"I use protection!" Carter bragged. "I go through boxes of condoms."
"You are out of control," Mark said, a disapproving look on his face.
It was a lie. Carter didn't like casual hookups, though he certainly pretended to. He was scared of running into someone like Danielle, his now-deceased aunt who had murdered his baby cousins and her own parents by setting fire to her historic house. She had also almost killed his cousin Grant and his then-fiancée, now-wife Kate. Carter didn't trust any of the women who hung around the Les DesChamps base. He knew they only wanted him for his money and status.
He always told himself that he would find a nice girl and settle down once he was out of the military. He was fast approaching thirty, though, and he wasn't sure if that would ever happen.
Mark rubbed his temples. "I didn't call you here to argue."
"Of course not," Carter said. "You just want to berate me about my future plans."
"You need to think about it," Mark said. "I was talking to Dad earlier this morning—"
Carter made a disgusted noise. "If Dad wants to tell me something, why doesn't he call me himself instead of going through you? I’m so tired of him. I don't even want to go home for Thanksgiving."
"Your leave was already approved," Mark reminded him.
"I don't have to go."
"Then you lose it."
"So what?"
"Just come," Mark said. "Grant will be back. You guys can talk about your post-military plans. You could go work at Holbrook Enterprises, maybe move into a sales role."
"I'm not going to be some road-warrior sales douche," Carter said, crossing his arms.
"Kate wants to set you up with one of her friends," Mark told him.
"Who?" Carter was interested despite himself.
"One of the Davenport sisters. Liz."
Carter nodded. He knew Liz.
"And I bet this is a Dad-approved suggestion."
Mark pursed his mouth but didn't say anything.
Carter smiled bitterly. "Of course it is."
"Mom wants to see you. Stop being so selfish," Mark said, standing up.
Carter jumped out of his chair. "So that's it. Conversation is over, huh?"
"I have to finish reviewing my code for this drone software program I'm writing," Mark said.
"Great. Glad I wasted my time coming over here," Carter snapped at his brother. "Don't bother walking me down. I can see myself out."
Carter fumed as he marched back to his barracks.
He hated his parents, and he knew they didn't like him much, either. He was supposed to be born a girl, according to the family stories. His father had wanted a son and a daughter for a perfectly balanced nuclear family. Instead, they had to deal with Carter and all of his screwups.
Now his father probably wanted to have a respectable daughter-in-law, just like Kate, Grant's wife. Carter liked Kate. He really did. She was the ideal upper-class wife—good parents, well educated, smart, capable, and well-dressed. He knew Liz Davenport was just like her.
Carter entertained the thought of wooing Liz. Maybe his father would finally like him, and his mother would surely be happy. Nancy always tried to pretend she was hip and progressive, but Carter knew she really was set in her ways and only wanted things to be trendy up to a point.
His whole family was all gun-shy about Danielle, his uncle's sociopathic deceased wife. Any potential partner he or Mark brought home would be under intense scrutiny.
"I should just bring the trashiest girl I can find and freak them all out during my mom's perfect Thanksgiving," Carter said to himself. He chuckled, imagining some junky girl chewing with her mouth open, stealing the silver, and making rude jokes.
"Too bad I don't know anyone like that," he said to himself. "I would pay good money just to see my parents' reactions if I brought home someone like that as my girlfriend. No, fiancée!"
His phone buzzed, and he opened it to see another picture of Allie and Margot heading to the Wildcat bar to set up for another night of debauchery.
A grin spread slowly across Carter's face as a dangerous idea formed in his mind.