Inviting Trouble (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Inviting Trouble

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Inviting Trouble

  Happy Endings Book Club Series, Book 2

  © 2017 Kylie Gilmore

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  Madison Campbell has worshipped her older brother’s best friend, Parker Shaw, for as long as she can remember. So the night before he leaves for the Air Force, she decides he’s leaving town with her virginity. All she has to do is transform her tomboy self into a sexy woman with a bit of borrowed makeup and some creative fashion choices. The results? One drunken kiss that Park doesn’t even remember.

  Ten years later, no man has ever gotten close to her heart the way Park did. And now that he’s back, the very unfeminine Madison refuses to blow her second chance. But when her bold attempts to snag his attention (“Oops! Dropped my towel.”) fail miserably, she does something completely insane—she caves to a makeover from the meddling matchmaker in charge of the Happy Endings Book Club. Hey, Park, you want some of this? Madison is about to find out.

  Author’s Note

  The Happy Endings Book Club was inspired by my own wish for a romance book club. I hope you’ll feel right at home with Hailey, the leader/matchmaker of the club, and all the single women there hoping for a happy ending. Mad’s still not sure how she got Hailey for a friend, but Mad quickly discovers the woman is dang serious about her friends’ happy endings! Read on and join the club!

  Hidden Hollywood (Book 1)

  Inviting Trouble (Book 2)

  So Revealing (Book 3)

  Formal Arrangement (Book 4)

  Bad Boy Done Wrong (Book 5)

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  Chapter One

  10 Years Ago…

  Fifteen-year-old Madison Campbell put her hands on her hips and scowled at herself in the mirror as if that would transform her into the beautiful petite kind of girl Parker Shaw was into. She had to make this beauty thing work because Park, the guy she’d worshipped for as long as she could remember, was about to leave town with her virginity.

  He just didn’t know it yet.

  She lifted her shoulder-length dark brown hair, trying to figure out how to make it stay up in a twist like she’d seen Miss Popular, Shannon, do. She grabbed a ponytail holder, wrapped it around the mass of hair, and let go. It flopped to the side. “Donkey balls,” she muttered, yanking the hair band out and tossing it across the counter.

  How did girls do this? She had no one to ask. Her own mom had split when Mad was only one. She was the only girl, no, the only woman, in the house with five older brothers and her dad. All of her friends were guys too. Every time she tried to hang with girls, she felt like she’d accidentally put on the Spanish channel. It all sounded good, but she had no idea what they were talking about. There were good crushes and bad crushes, which seemed like pretty much the same thing to her. And stuff that sounded like a question but wasn’t. So what if she didn’t speak fluent girl? She had no problem talking to guys, even an insanely hot guy like Park. She just had to show him she wasn’t that mouthy twerp he’d grown up with.

  She shoved her hands in her hair and tried to fluff it up for that natural wavy look she’d seen on TV. Now it looked kind of frizzy. She turned on the faucet and splashed water all over her head, smoothing it down again. Forget the hair. She grabbed the pink lipstick she’d filched from Shannon’s purse in the locker room during gym and puckered up. Mad wasn’t afraid of sex. She knew everything already, what went where, the condom part, the noises girls made. She had her tomcat brothers to thank for that, sneaking girls home when their dad was at work. She swiped the lipstick across her top lip and then kept going full circle to the bottom lip and back to the top. She carefully capped the lipstick, planning on returning it to Shannon on Monday at school when she wasn’t looking.

  She smiled in the mirror and then stopped. She looked like a clown. It was too bright, made for Shannon’s blonde fairer looks, and sort of smeared. She grabbed a tissue and scrubbed it off. This was stupid. She knew what guys liked—big tits.

  She looked down at herself. B cup. She grabbed her boobs with both hands and squeezed them together, trying to make some cleavage. Nothing impressive. She yanked her favorite black concert shirt down and lifted her boobs at the same time. Better. She grabbed the top of the shirt with both hands, a favorite hand-me-down from her brother, Ty, hesitated for a split second and then ripped it into a V-neck. Still no cleavage. She ripped the shirt a little lower. She leaned forward and moved her shoulders side to side. There. Now you could definitely tell she had boobs.

  What else? She reached for Shannon’s blue eye shadow, swabbed a bunch on the little wand and swiped it across her lids. She opened her dark brown eyes to check out the dramatic results. Suckage. She’d clearly lifted makeup from the wrong girl. No point in trying the blue eyeliner. She should’ve filched something from Shannon’s dark-haired friend Michelle. She blew out a breath. She’d just have to use her body.

  She turned sideways in the mirror, throwing her shoulders back, and then turned and looked at her ass. Kind of flat. She looked nothing like the curvy centerfolds in those magazines her brothers hid under their mattresses. She was five foot four with a thin, boyish, athletic bod. Not as petite as Park’s last curvy little girlfriend. She put her hands on her waist. She did have a narrow waist. Maybe if she hiked up the shirt, the narrow waist would give the appearance of more curve in the hip.

  She tied the shirt in two knots just above her hip bones, showing off her belly button. She briefly considered attempting a safety-pin piercing to draw attention to her belly button, which was a nice innie, but feared it would look too red. She’d pierced her own ear and, man, that had been red for a whole day.

  Someone pounded on the door. “Hurry up! I gotta take a whiz!” a male voice barked.

  “Use the other bathroom!” she hollered back.

  He jiggled the knob. She’d locked it, of course. Bam. Bam. Bam. Had to be Ty. He was the most physical of her brothers. He’d kick the door open if she didn’t hurry. She shoved the evidence—lipstick, eye gunk—into her jeans pockets.

  “Come on, Mad. It’s an emergency. Logan is in the other bathroom.”

  “He’s probably just whacking off,” she said, pulling her hair forward over her shoulders, hoping to draw attention to her boobs.

  Boom. The door shook. He must’ve kicked it.

  She rolled her eyes and gave herself one last long look. Would Park want this? She didn’t know what else she could do to improve the picture. She sniffed her pits. Smelled okay. She should’ve swiped some perfume too.

  Boom. The door rattled. “What the hell are you doing in there?” Ty boomed.

  She opened the
medicine cabinet, hoping there might be something that smelled good, but it was just her brothers’ crap. Most of them still lived at home, except identical twins Jake and Josh, who were in the Army.

  “Mad!”

  She sighed, turned, and yanked open the door.

  “Get out of the way,” Ty said, not bothering to give her the chance. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the hallway. Like all her brothers, he was tall, nearly six foot, brown hair, brown eyes, and bulging with muscles. At twenty-one, he worked at the gym, teaching other people how to get strong. The door slammed behind him.

  She headed to the small room she shared with her older brother by three years, Logan. She got the top bunk. Their house only had three bedrooms. Her dad hogged one of them all to himself, though he took the smallest bedroom. The master bedroom had two sets of bunk beds for the four oldest boys. Park had the living room sofa. Her dad had rescued him from a bad home when he was ten and she was seven, and he’d been living with them ever since. She couldn’t imagine how she would’ve survived her brothers without Park. He’d always looked out for her. Who always picked her to be on their team when no one wanted her? Park. Who gave her their ice cream when her brothers devoured the tub before she got a single drop? Park. Who shut her brothers up when her feelings got hurt? The guy soon to take her virginity—Park.

  And tomorrow he left for the Air Force for six long years. Her throat got tight. Don’t cry, she told herself. You can cry all you want once he’s gone.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She had an hour before the going-away party. Her dad had taken Park out to dinner, just the two of them. She opened the closet, kicked some of Logan’s cleats out of the way and tried to decide between sneakers and her black combat boots. Which one said petite pretty girl? Sneakers. Definitely. They were white and mostly clean. She grabbed them, grabbed a handful of tissues and sat on the floor to clean them up.

  She spat into the tissue and rubbed at a scuff on the toe, thinking of Park again. Would he see her with new eyes tonight? Would he notice she was different? All grown up? She’d shot up to her full height at twelve, but now she had the body to go with it. He had to notice. And if he didn’t, she’d just wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. Actions always spoke louder than words. She’d never kissed a guy, but she’d spied on her brothers before. It couldn’t be that hard if they’d managed it.

  She lifted the back of her hand to practice. Easy. She opened her mouth and added some tongue action.

  “What’re you doing?” Ty asked from the doorway.

  She jolted and dropped her hand, her cheeks burning. “Ever hear of knocking?”

  Ty leaned against the doorframe in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, crossing his arms like he always did to show off his bulging biceps. “Door was open.” He smirked. “Were you French-kissing your hand?”

  She hurled her sneaker at him.

  He ducked and grinned. “Who you gonna kiss, huh?”

  “I wasn’t kissing my hand. I was spitting. Cleaning my sneaks.” She stood and shoved one foot into a mostly clean sneak, retrieved the other one near Ty, and slipped it on.

  “Did you rip my favorite shirt?” Ty asked. “Mad!”

  She lifted her chin. “It hasn’t fit you in five years. It’s mine and I can do what I want with it. This is the style.”

  He pointed at her chest. “I can see your…your…cover up!”

  She set her teeth. “No.”

  He stared at the two knots she’d made at the bottom of the shirt, stared at her belly button, then went to the dresser, yanked open a drawer, and grabbed another hand-me-down, a faded Eastman High track shirt, and tossed it at her. “Put that on.”

  “No.” She stepped around the shirt and headed out.

  “Dad’s not gonna let you out of the house like that,” Ty called.

  “I’m not going out,” she threw over her shoulder, heading for the stairs. She halted on the top step when the front door opened and the man of her dreams stepped inside.

  Her heart thumped its love beat—Park-er, Park-er, Park-er. Be cool! Park’s dark brown hair was in a buzz cut, ready for basic training, his wide shoulders straining the fabric of a white T-shirt with faded jeans that molded to his body. He was eighteen, enlisted to serve his country, a full-fledged man. He looked up, his gorgeous hazel eyes meeting hers, and she slowly descended the stairs in what she hoped was a sexy and alluring way.

  “Hey, little bit,” Park said with a smile. “We got an ice cream cake.”

  Little bit. Her heart sank. Little bit, mini, shortstack. She was always the little twerp. Did he even notice she was all woman?

  Her dad—a tall fit man with short brown hair, brown eyes, and what she called laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, and he called worry lines on account of all his kids—stepped inside with the cake. He gave her a quick hello and headed to the kitchen.

  She rushed down the rest of the stairs, eager for Park to get a closer look at her boobs. Seriously, if even Ty noticed her low-cut shirt, Park had to. Park always noticed her, always looked out for her and included her when her brothers told her to get lost.

  “We should set up the volleyball net in the backyard,” Park told her, looking around. “Where is everyone?”

  She stopped directly in front of him, the tips of their sneakers nearly touching. “I’m here.”

  He put a large hand on top of her head. “Yeah. Where’s everyone else?”

  She silently seethed, but didn’t push his hand away. At least he was touching her.

  “Mad, we’ve got to get you some new clothes,” her dad said, returning from the kitchen. “That shirt’s falling apart. Go change and then run the vacuum while I get stuff ready.”

  Park dropped his hand and his gaze locked on her chest. She threw her shoulders back to make the view more impressive. He met her eyes again. “Ty here?”

  “Upstairs,” she said and stomped upstairs to change.

  Ty brushed past her and headed downstairs, calling to Park, “Hey, you’re back! I got beer.”

  Mad’s ears perked up. Maybe if Park had a beer or two, he might be easier to convince. She knew her dad wouldn’t mind if Park drank. After Park had enlisted, he and her dad had a beer together, toasting to Park’s future. She went to the larger bedroom where Park kept his stuff, grabbed his dark blue plaid flannel shirt, and pulled it on. Now she was covered and he’d notice she was wearing his shirt. She made it to the hallway when she realized her mistake. It was July and, even in the air-conditioning, she was sweating. She quickly changed out of jeans and into some shorts. The flannel shirt fell a little low, over her hips, just a bit of shorts peeking out. Cool.

  She did the stupid vacuuming, got even sweatier, and had to put her hair up in a high ponytail. So much for sexy style. By the time the house was filled with her brothers and their friends, her sleeves were rolled up and all the buttons of Park’s flannel shirt undone. Her dad didn’t notice her boobs were back on display. He was too busy holding court in his favorite recliner, reminiscing about his old Army days. She sat on the arm of the sofa; Park sat on the far end away from her. In between were her brothers Ty and Alex. Logan sat on the floor with their blood brothers—like family, these guys were—Zach, Ethan, Ben, and Marcus. Her dad, a cop, was active in the Police Athletic League and mentored a lot of kids who needed a stable father figure in their lives.

  She pretended to listen while she mentally rehearsed what she’d say to Park later, once everyone was gone or asleep. She’d sneak downstairs to where he slept on the sofa and she’d say…what? She bit her lip and looked over at him. He met her eyes and winked.

  She flushed and quickly looked away. Did he know what she was thinking? That would make it so much easier.

  Her dad finally wound down and Ty spoke up. “Park’s not the only one heading out. I’m going to LA next month.”

  “What? Why?” Everyone spoke at once.

  Ty grinned. Only Park didn’t seem surprised. The
two were close. “I’m going to be a stuntman.”

  “How you gonna do that?” Alex asked. He was in community college and still trying to figure out what to do with his life.

  “I met a guy at the gym who used to do it,” Ty said. “He’s gonna set me up with some people he knows.”

  “You make sure you get the right training,” their dad said. “Don’t be reckless and get yourself killed.”

  “Come on,” Ty said, pointing at himself with both hands. “With this bod? You know I take care of the goods.” He flexed his guns.

  Everyone laughed except Mad, who just sat there, eyes hot. One by one, the guys were leaving. First Jake and Josh had left for the Army, then Ethan to the police academy, Park to the Air Force, and now Ty. Pretty soon she’d be like an only child. Everything was changing and she hated it. She got up and went to the kitchen, needing a minute to herself. How could everyone be so happy about their whole family falling apart?

  She dug around in the fridge, grabbed one of Ty’s beers, and looked for the bottle opener. She found it in the junk drawer. She’d just popped the top when it was snatched out of her hands.

  “Thanks, mini,” Park said, tossing the drink back.

  She scowled.

  He fixed her with a hard look. “You’re too young to drink.”

  “No one cares,” she said. “It’s a party.”

  “I care.”

  She swallowed over the lump in her throat. No one would ever care about her the way Park did. He noticed her. He made her feel special.

  Park leaned against the counter and set the beer out of her reach. “You upset about Ty leaving?”

  “Everyone’s leaving,” she muttered.

  “Everyone’s grown up,” he said. “It’s time.”

  She was quiet, glad he’d included her in that grown-up bit, glad to have him all to herself. She hopped up on the counter next to him, swinging her legs. “I’ll probably leave soon too.”

  He inclined his head. “You’ll get there. You keep getting As, you could go to college.”

  “By the time you get back, I could almost be done college.”