THE BEST KIND OF SURPRISE Read online

  THE BEST KIND OF SURPRISE

  Jasmin Miller

  The Best Kind Of Surprise

  Copyright © 2019 by Jasmin Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the prior written consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, things, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you’d like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Jasmin Miller 2019

  [email protected]

  www.jasminmiller.com

  Editing: Jenn Wood, All About The Edits

  Proofreading: Judy Zweifel, www.judysproofreading.com

  Cover Designer: Decadent Designs by Dee

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Aiden

  2. Stella

  3. Aiden

  4. Stella

  5. Aiden

  6. Stella

  7. Stella

  8. Aiden

  9. Aiden

  10. Stella

  11. Stella

  12. Aiden

  13. Aiden

  14. Stella

  15. Aiden

  Epilogue

  Excerpt of Baking With A Rockstar

  Also by Jasmin Miller

  Keep in touch

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  THE BEST KIND OF SURPRISE

  Aiden

  If you asked me last month if I had a fulfilling life being single, I would have said yes. But all of that changed when I met Stella. After a drink in my restaurant bar, we shared an incredible night together. The only problem was, she was gone when I woke up the next morning. No note, no phone number, nothing.

  Over a month later, I still can’t get her out of my mind. Somehow, she did a number on me, turning me into such a ball of self-pity, I can't even work up the desire to move on. With no way of contacting her, I’m more than a little shocked to find her waiting in front of my door one evening.

  Despite my wildest hopes, she isn’t here for a repeat of our passionate night. The nature of her visit is completely unexpected, ending with a surprise that’s about to turn both of our lives upside down.

  One I’m not sure I’m ready for.

  1

  Aiden

  This day officially sucks.

  Sitting on the couch in my brother’s living room, I stare at Ember, his new fiancée. They just came back from their extended trip around the world last month, ridiculously happy and engaged. I take a big swig from my beer bottle because it’s five o’clock somewhere. Okay, maybe it’s been five o’clock somewhere for a while, since this is my third, or maybe fourth? I haven’t paid a lot of attention, to be honest.

  Ember’s gaze flicks back and forth between me, the phone in her hand, and the front door. She insists that Logan should be home any minute, indirectly confirming my suspicion that she can’t—or doesn’t want to—deal with me by herself. I must look as crappy as I feel. Or maybe she just thinks I’ve lost my mind.

  “Come on, Aiden, just spit it out. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird for the past few weeks. It’s not like you to mope around like this.”

  Maybe that’s part of the problem. People expect me to be this happy person all the time, but it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.

  Looking at her, I consider telling her. I was planning on talking to my brother, but maybe a woman’s perspective could help with my dilemma. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  She hesitates for a moment, my question probably making her expect the worst or, at the very least, reconsider her question. After pulling at the hem of her shirt, she nods. “Yes.”

  “All right, you asked for it.” I take a deep breath and hold up my beer bottle as if I’m about to make a toast. “I think my dick is broken.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up a second before she chokes on the sip of coffee she just took, successfully spraying the liquid across the whole coffee table, and almost hitting me in the process.

  I can’t help myself and chuckle at the mess in front of me. “Wow. That was pretty impressive.”

  Just then, the lock on the front door clicks, and my brother walks in. He looks back and forth between Ember and me, probably wondering what on earth he just walked in on.

  Disregarding me, he goes to Ember, who’s still coughing, and bends over the couch to pat her on the back. “You okay, baby? What happened?”

  She nods. “Yeah, thanks. I just choked on my drink.” She points her finger at me. “Ask your brother why.”

  “I’m listening.” Logan turns to me, pinning me with his gaze, his eyes narrowed. “Well?” His eyes move over me, taking in the bottle in my hand before he sits down next to Ember, gently rubbing her back.

  I shrug and repeat what I already told Ember. “I think my dick is broken.”

  Logan sits up straight in his seat. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Shrugging once more, I put the bottle to my mouth and chug down the rest of it. “I don’t know. I’m not interested in hooking up anymore, so something’s clearly wrong with me.”

  My brother covers his forehead with his hand before rolling his eyes. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “What? Why?” I wave my bottle around, and consider pouting when my brother takes it away from me before remembering it’s empty. “Of course I’m serious.”

  He blows out a loud breath, clenching his hands, and I wonder if he’s about to kick me out. It wouldn’t really surprise me. I’d probably kick my whiny ass to the curb too, if I were in his shoes.

  Instead, he gets up from his spot and walks over, sitting down next to me before putting his hand on my shoulder. “What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  My shoulders sag and I avoid his gaze, trying like hell to keep him from seeing my emotions—which is hard with him being my twin and all. Sometimes that weird connection thing people always talk about regarding twins is totally true. When I look up a moment later, his eyes are still on me, waiting for a real reply, and I sigh.

  “I met this chick last month, and I don’t know...she snuck out in the morning. I guess I’m still pissed about that because I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s like she keeps cock-blocking me from afar.”

  My brother’s hand falls from my shoulder and he leans back into the cushions, but not before sharing a look with Ember who, weirdly enough, has been awfully quiet while cleaning up the mess she made.

  Out of the blue, she jumps up and makes her way into the kitchen. “I think I’m gonna get us all a drink. Looks like we might need it.”

  I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m going to keep my mouth shut if it means I can drown my sorrows in alcohol.

  When she comes back with our drinks—wine for herself and beer for Logan and me—I look back and forth between the two of them, ready for some answers. “So, what am I gonna do? How am I gonna fix this?” I hold up my free hand. “And before anyone says I should just get with
another girl, don’t bother. I’ve already tried that, and it didn’t work. Which is how I came to the conclusion that my dick’s broken.”

  Ember chuckles into her wine glass while my brother’s lips are pressed together so tightly, they’re almost white. It’s pretty obvious he’s trying not to laugh—the twitching corners of his mouth are a dead giveaway.

  I grumble, feeling annoyed with both of them. “This is not funny, guys.”

  “Of course not.” Logan shakes his head but is now sporting a wide grin. He gives my shoulder a few claps before he goes to sit back down beside Ember. “But your dick isn’t broken, dude, you know that.”

  “Feels like it though.”

  “I’m sure it does.”

  Ember leans forward and sets her glass on the coffee table. “Aiden?” She clears her throat, and I’m not sure I’m going to like whatever comes out of her mouth next. “Do you like this girl you were talking about?”

  “What? Yeah, sure. I mean, otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken her home, right?” I remember the hours of conversation Stella and I had at the restaurant right before images of my night with her flood my mind—her brown hair spread out on my pillow, her almond-shaped, dark eyes staring up at me with an intensity I’ve never witnessed before. Her beautiful mouth. All her perfect curves.

  My heart speeds up, and I realize something was different with her, even though I haven’t been able to put my finger on what exactly. Until now. “Shit.”

  I look up at my brother, whose gaze is already on me. His mouth is slightly open, and I can practically hear his shock. Even I never believed in the possibility of me ever finding a woman I liked for more than just one night.

  That’s something Logan and I have never seen eye to eye on. He left for his photography job and dated a bit, but not excessively, whereas I opened up my first restaurants, taking advantage of women’s offers whenever I could. I mean, we’re in our mid-twenties, so why not have some fun?

  At least, it used to be my thing. Now, suddenly, not anymore.

  I’m screwed.

  My soon-to-be sister-in-law gives me a kind smile. “That’s what I thought. Do you have her number? Can you call her?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hmm.” She taps her chin with her index finger. “Where did you meet her? Maybe you could find her that way?”

  I flinch. “I met her at the restaurant when she had a drink at the bar.”

  This time, it’s Logan leaning forward, both of them now sitting at the edge of the couch. “Dude, that’s so bad for business.”

  No kidding. I hold up my hands. “No need for a lecture because I already know that. Which is why I usually don’t do that sort of thing, but there was something about her...I don’t know. She sat there by herself and looked all sad, so I wanted to cheer her up a little.”

  “With your dick?” My brother is having a ball with this, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

  “You’re a dick.”

  “Wow. That’s a winner right there.” He’s back to relaxing in his seat, his shoulders shaking with amusement. Apparently, he doesn’t think this situation warrants the same urgency I do.

  Letting my head fall back onto the soft cushion, I close my eyes. I’ve already gone through the whole scenario a hundred times. Obviously, I can’t go back in time and undo what happened—not that I’d want to—but I also can’t find her without having any info. We didn’t do anything more than exchange first names, and when I woke up the next morning, it was too late and she was gone.

  Ember’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, her finger poking my knee. “Hey, maybe you’ll be able to find her somehow, you never know. I mean, miracles can happen, right?”

  I groan in reply and stand. “Well, this was fun, guys, but I better get going.”

  Ember waves goodbye and my brother walks me to the door.

  After opening it for me, he leans against the doorframe. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck and look at Logan. People always ask me if it’s weird to look at my brother and kind of see myself, but it’s not. It’s normal for me since that’s how it’s been my whole life. Plus, there are little things, like scars and our beard or hair length that make it easier for him to look different—to me anyway.

  “Call me if you need anything, you hear me?”

  “Will do.”

  We say goodbye, and I’m out the door. It’s still early, the sun not yet ready to set. Tourists and locals are milling around in the warm Santa Barbara weather, happily chatting away as I walk the few blocks back to my place. When I get there, I’m surprised to see someone waiting on the front steps of my building.

  The woman is halfway in the shadows, making it hard to see her. Then I hear her voice.

  “Hi, Aiden.”

  Taking a step closer, I gulp loudly. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  2

  Stella

  You can do this. Remember you’re a strong, independent woman. Nothing this beautiful man will say is going to change that.

  Do these kinds of self pep talks ever actually work?

  And that Freudian slip there? But hell, what can I say? Aiden is one beautiful man.

  Standing only a couple of feet away from me, still glued to the same spot, he’s staring at me like he’s seen a ghost. I’m starting to get more nervous as the seconds tick by, realizing for the first time he might not even remember me.

  Well, wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of this whole screw-up?

  “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t say my name, which makes me break out in a cold sweat.

  He doesn’t remember my name. How embarrassing.

  I consider taking off without another word, but I can’t do that. I promised myself I’d get this done first, and then I can go home and spend the rest of the evening with my best friends, Ben & Jerry. At least they don’t judge me.

  Pulling back my shoulders, I take a deep breath and hold out my hand. “Good to see you again, Aiden. Can we talk?”

  Oh my God. Did I really just hold out my hand for him to shake, like we’re some business associates about to make a deal? I can’t believe it. Maybe I should leave before this gets any more awkward.

  Surprisingly enough, he humors me and takes my hand in his. Compared to my little one, his is large with calloused fingers that I often remember vividly when I lie in bed at night by myself.

  He cocks his head to the side, probably trying to figure out what on earth I’m doing here, showing up out of the blue, like a total lunatic. After letting go of my hand, he motions to the door of his apartment. “Of course. Let’s go inside, and I’ll make us coffee. Or something stronger if you want.”

  Oh boy. I could use a strong drink about now. Make that a double.

  He unlocks the door and holds it open for me. The apartment is exactly how I remember it—a typical bachelor pad with dark brown hardwood floors, black leather couches, and a big flat-screen on the wall. But what I fell in love with right away was the open kitchen—black cabinets and gray granite countertops, as well as a double oven and other high-end appliances. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a kitchen that adequately equipped or well taken care of. It’s quite impressive.

  I follow him into the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair for me at the island before walking over to the fridge. “What do you feel like?”

  I lean onto the smooth counter, propping my chin up on my hands. “You don’t happen to have any hot chocolate, do you?”

  If he thinks that’s a strange request, he doesn’t show it. With one hand on the open fridge, he turns back to me. “I actually do have some.” He stares at me for another moment before taking out a milk jug and closing the fridge.

  I watch him silently as he opens several cabinets, bringing mugs as well as cocoa powder and sugar over to the island. After getting a small saucepan from somewhere underneath, he turns one of the gas burners on that’s built into the island and gets to work, warming up the milk before m
ixing in the cocoa powder and sugar. For some reason, it’s quite soothing to watch him work so methodically.

  A few minutes later, he places a mug in front of me, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows on top. “Here you go. I hope you like it.”

  I gape at him, openly gape at him. Is he kidding me right now? I mean, who makes a hot chocolate like that? I think I’m in love. Wait, what? I shake my head, trying to get rid of that thought, and settle on, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He picks up his own drink and leans back against the opposite side of the counter, watching me over the rim of his cup. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.

  What was I thinking? Just coming over here to talk like it’s the most natural thing to do. How could I possibly think this was gonna be easy-peasy? I convinced myself I could be in and out of here, and back home under my cozy blanket to watch some TV in less than an hour.

  How delusional.

  I can’t do this. I’m not ready yet.

  I get up, the bar stool loudly scraping across the floor, my hot chocolate barely touched. “I…I just remembered something, so I have to go. Sorry. And thanks for the drink.” My red purse is still slung across my body, making it easier to get out of here as fast as possible.

  “Why did you sneak out that morning?”

  His voice makes me stop in the middle of the living room. Surprise doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel at his question.