Not According to Plan

By A.M. Madden

For one night of my life, I dared to do something reckless.
My birthday. A bar. Karaoke. And a man so hot he could melt the sun.
Sparks flew. Lust took over. For one night of my life, I felt alive.
Then I was back to my “boring” life. Career-driven. Goal-oriented. Always planning ahead.
But nothing could have prepared me for the positive pregnancy test. We weren’t that reckless.
There goes my “boring” life. And what happens when I tell the father?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Mar 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781682815441

A.M. Madden

A.M. Madden is a USA Today bestselling author, as well as 2016 eLit Gold Medalist for Best Romance Ebook, and 2016 Ippy Award Silver Medalist for Best Romance Ebook. A.M. is a wife, a mother, an avid reader of romance novels, and now an author. "It's all about the HEA." A.M. Madden is the author of the popular Back-Up Series, as well as several other contemporary romances. She is also a published author with Loveswept/Random House and Entangled Publishing. A self-proclaimed hopeless romantic, she loves getting lost in a good book. She also uses every free moment of her time writing, while spending quality time with her three handsome men. A.M. is a Gemini and an Italian Jersey girl, but despite her Zodiac sign, nationality, or home state, she is very easy going. She loves the beach, loves to laugh, and loves the idea of love. A.M. Madden, Independent Romance Author. Sign up for A.M. Madden's newsletter at www.ammadden.com to get up to date information on new releases, cover reveals, and exclusive excerpts. Facebook: authorammadden Twitter: @ammadden1 Instagram: ammadden1 Copyright © A.M. Madden, Author, All rights reserved. A.M. Madden is a Goodreads Author and can be contacted on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or at [e-mail]

Book preview

To my three kings, you rule my world.

Chapter One

Jade

A wicked grin spread over my friend Amy’s face. What you need is a hot, sweaty, writhing night of passion with a stranger…or two.

Sex with two strangers? I squeaked, and despite the noise pollution around me, I still managed to catch the attention of the table next to ours. The four willing men all lifted their drinks of choice in a silent toast, as if their proximity would act as an audition for the roles.

Well, I meant two different nights, one for each. She laughed. But if you want two men in one night… She paused long enough to get a good look at our eavesdroppers, offering up a sexy wink before continuing, Well, Jade, that wouldn’t be such a bad idea for someone like you.

Yeah, no.

Amy shrugged casually, while I shot another embarrassed glance around us to see if anyone else had heard her suggestion. It wouldn’t have been hard, since we were packed into the place like sardines. This was so not my scene, drinking on a work night in a bar? I’d rather end my fourteen-hour days in sweats, binge-watching Friends on Netflix.

How about I walk before I sprint? I said. Besides, my luck with relationships sucks.

Who said a relationship? she asked, popping the p. I’m talking a mindless affair. Her eyebrows rose over the rim of her glass as she took a long sip of her cocktail.

I don’t have time for that, I mumbled.

Shut it. Everyone has time for sex.

Sex? I barely had time to enjoy my birthday properly. As the sea of fun-loving New Yorkers continued to drink their weight in top-shelf alcohol, I casually twisted my wrist to glance at the time.

I should be able to go out on a Thursday night and celebrate my birthday without worrying about the alarm that would beep without sympathy at seven in the morning. Or…that my head would pound like a jackhammer the next day because of the several Cosmos I consumed.

So, I am boring then? I repeated the question that started this discussion.

Her crystal blue eyes trained on my face as I waited for her to say, No, of course not. She didn’t.

That question had been clanging around in my mind since earlier today. Until then, denial had me existing in my dull little world while believing I was a kick-ass lawyer who couldn’t be stopped.

And then, one of the senior partners in my firm had the nerve to say that I was the most reliable, dedicated, levelheaded millennial he’d ever met. That was right before he asked me to join the firm’s chess team.

Chess? Really?

"We could use a gal like you on our team, Mr. Warner had gone on to say before adding, You work well with monotony. It’s a rare quality to possess, especially for someone of your age. This generation needs constant activity, excitement. But not you, no, you’re different…" He’d droned on and on, but I hadn’t heard another word because what he had already said spoke volumes.

Boring. I’m boring.

Mr. Warner and his partners founded Warner, Sicks, & Thompson almost thirty years ago. Known in the law industry as being tenacious dinosaurs who always won their cases, it was something I’d found endearing when I interviewed with them. I was one of six female attorneys they’d added to their staff after the senior partners decided to bring in new blood and a fresh point of view…otherwise known as ambitious women.

Regarding me, they took notice of my eager to take on the world attitude. I worked my ass off for the firm, and my motive was to make junior partner. No other woman had been able to bust through the glass ceiling since. Doing so would pave a golden road for the law career I dreamed of.

My success so far obviously came with a boring price tag. I have one friend—one…actually two, if you counted my sister. I’d never been out of the country. I spent my whole life within a fifty-mile radius from where I grew up in New Jersey. And because of my insane hours at work, I hadn’t been able to keep a relationship going for more than a few months, which meant sex was as rare in my life as it would be to find gold in the Hudson River.

So, when my friend continued to stare at me long and hard before her eyes scanned down my favorite charcoal gray suit, all the things I prided myself on suddenly felt like a noose around my neck.

Is that rhetorical? she finally asked.

No, I grumbled. The fact she took more than one second to respond worsened my mood.

"It’s not your fault that you’re boring. All work and no play do make for a boring life…and being a control freak doesn’t help, either."

I released a frustrated sigh, exhausted with this conversation. You know what? Forget it.

No, this proves my point about tonight, she said determinedly. You’ve been in a long drought, and a woman needs sex to keep the cylinders fired up, to clear those pesky crotch cobwebs. Did you know your vagina can fuse shut? I’ve read about it online.

"That cannot happen."

She gave me a nonchalant shrug. Well, I wouldn’t chance it. My friend, the squirrel, swung her gaze around the dimly lit bar and landed it on the table of good-looking men beside us.

Amy Delton, the erotic romance author, found said inspiration wherever she went. Actually, it found her. Best friends since grade school, Amy never quite hit the awkward teenage stage the rest of us had been plagued with. And now as an adult, with her ebony hair, pale blue eyes, and never-ending curves, she turned heads wherever we went.

Our lives couldn’t have been more opposite. As she jet-setted around the country to book signings and conferences, creating passion on the pages and living a close version in real life, I spent most of my time in a conference room or my office. The only hot affairs in my life were the kind I read about in my free time.

Hell, who was I kidding? I had no free time. The only reason I agreed to come here tonight was because it’s my birthday and she’d made it a priority to be in town to see me, despite her busy schedule.

I like this place. Not only are the guys in here hot… She thumbed to one of the very handsome bartenders and added, So is the help. Great inspiration.

My gaze swung to whom she referenced and caught on a gorgeous man behind the bar who was staring at me…

I said…I could use a one-night stand myself, Amy continued. Having to catch a flight tomorrow is the perfect excuse to bolt before the awkwardness hits. Maybe the bartender. Amy knocked her knuckles on the table. Hello?

Oh, sorry. You were saying what I needed? I steered her back to me before she could act on her nonchalant statement, and even if the chances were slim on getting some of my own action, I didn’t want her sabotaging my fantasy. But then another glance at the bar proved my chances were indeed slim when I noticed the bartender was now chatting with an attractive redhead.

Oh, right. We’re talking about you being boring. So, as I said, you need one night of raunchy sex. She bobbed her head in an exaggerated way, widening her eyes in a move that meant something sinister would come next. Ooh, I know what to do! Without warning, she slipped out of the booth and pushed through the crowd with many of the male eyes following her move.

Worried as to what she was up to, I focused on the professional twentysomething-year-olds that surrounded us, all still adorning their work attire. Actually, I fit in perfectly wearing my power suit…much more than Amy did in her tight skinny jeans and flimsy camisole. It was the unguarded expressions on their faces that set me apart. I probably appeared as uptight as I felt.

Amy returned with a smug smile. Okay, done.

Oh no. "Done what?"

"I entered you into that Kismet Karaoke contest they do here. She snatched the flyer off the tabletop and thrust it at me. It’s just what you need. Very not boring."

With each word I read, panic bubbled within me. Five men and five women would be randomly coupled off before singing a karaoke song chosen for them, and the crowd would select a winner. My eyes again scanned the packed room. I found it hard to believe all these people were here for a chance to win five hundred bucks. Maybe witnessing the humiliation of the poor suckers chosen was what got their rocks off?

Holy hell, what did she do?

Singing? With a stranger? I hissed, my eyes bulging. In front of all these people?

Chances are you won’t get picked. If you do, so what? You have a gorgeous voice. You’ll be just fine. Consider it my birthday gift to you. She raised her brows and grinned. And…the best part? You’ll have a one-night stand with your singing partner. She waited a moment for it to sink in. You’re welcome.

No way. You have officially lost your mind. My accusation did nothing to wipe the grin off her face. Amy, I’m not doing that. He could be a psycho. She’s talked me into some crazy shit over the years, but this? With my luck, I’ll end up murdered. I’d rather drown my sorrows in ice cream. I snatched my purse, but before I could slide my ass along the worn vinyl bench, her ironclad grip landed on my wrist.

Or…he could have a nine-inch dick, his own helicopter, and a fuck-pad on the Upper East Side, overlooking the park.

Yes, because the universe is just that kind.

It could happen.

Says the hopeless erotic romantic.

She huffed. You’re doing it! If it helps you feel any better, take a picture of the guy and send it to me for the police…you know, in case you go missing. Leaning closer, she then said, And his dick, too, if it is indeed nine inches.

You’re sick.

I sighed at seeing her exaggerated eye roll. Stop being so dramatic, she said. "People have one-night stands all the time. Welcome to the twenty-first century, Jade. Why do you think swiping right exists? Think of it as therapy. You just spent the last hour feeling sorry for yourself. This is exactly what you need."

When she was sure I wasn’t going anywhere, she finally released my wrist. It’s your birthday, you deserve a fun time, and you’re going to get some in the way of a hot night of sexual debauchery. Plan A will be with a hottie who doesn’t mind singing in front of a crowd. Plan B will be someone of my choosing. You might be better off letting kismet control this night rather than me. Either way, this is going down, Jade. Got it? Or your pussy will most definitely shrivel up from underuse.

Amy…

Before I could speak the argument already forming in my head, she said, "Just have some fun—otherwise we’re going to be here in ten years celebrating your thirty-seventh birthday and nothing will have changed in your life, except you’ll be even more boring by then."

Well, when she said it like that… Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But only because it’s my birthday and I deserve an orgasm from a man and not a toy as my present.

Or…one from a man as he uses the toy on you, she amended with an exaggerated wink.

On a slow blink, I mumbled, Yeah, I’m going to need another Cosmo to prepare for this.

That’s my girl. Let your hair down.

I mindlessly removed the clip that held up my conservative bun.

Good, now shake it out, she said.

Like a robot, I followed her command as she flagged down a waiter and ordered our second round. He took our order with a dazzling smile and winked at her before heading to the bar.

Amy continued to prepare me for slaughter, unbuttoning my top button and dabbing lip gloss on my lips. Perfect.

When two fresh drinks replaced our empty glasses, I quickly raised my cocktail. "Boring this," I said and drained it in an attempt to gain some courage through the icy pink liquid.

Chapter Two

Max

Brad: Max! Where the fuck are you?

I ignored the eighth text in as many minutes from my brother, knowing he was probably pacing by now. As if it wasn’t enough for me to agree to help him out and give up my only night off, he needed to bust my balls for arriving a few minutes late as well?

Down his main bartender, Brad asked me to step in on the busiest night of the month, and I agreed because I always do. I hadn’t learned the art of saying no. The upside, all the times I did help him out in a bind served to help me, too, since I’d be seeking payback someday. Although not as often as he needed me, there were times I called on him to help out at my gym.

So, instead of kicking back with a beer in my very comfy living room, there I was on my way to a torturous night serving loud drunken professionals for the next five or six hours, because I’m too nice.

While sitting in the cab, I dialed Tracey’s number to check in. Tracey and I had known each other since both attending Miami University. During our time there, we flirted a lot but never really crossed the line. She had a boyfriend when I was single. I was seeing someone when she was single. Timing never worked in our favor. Once we’d each graduated from college and I got back home to Long Island, we kept in touch. And then, during a recent trip to Miami this past February, she invited me over for dinner to celebrate the opening of my new gym. Lots of wine had been consumed, one thing led to another, and…stuff happened.

After that first night, we learned two things: one, the sex was good, and two, we really didn’t have feelings for each other in a romantic way. Thus began our friends-with-benefits connection whenever I was in Miami.

Then she met Tristan and fell head over heels for him within just a few dates. I couldn’t relate, but Tracey was never the impulsive type, so I trusted she truly had found her person. Obviously our tryst, although fun, was over as soon as Tristan entered her life.

But epically bad timing had her finding out only a few weeks later that she was pregnant with my child.

Irony at its best, huh?

The ringing stopped when Tracey finally picked up my call.

Hi, Max, she said in her usual cheerful tone.

Hey. How are you feeling?

Great. So far, I’m not as queasy as I was in my first trimester. The cab pulled over, prompting me to slide my credit card to pay my fare.

I’m glad to hear that. Do you need anything? I asked, as I always did. I’m flying down for a meeting tomorrow.

While I climbed out of the taxi, she replied, Nope, I’m good.

Okay. Let me know if you do. Whatever it is, please call me. I’ll be there in a flash.

You’re sweet, Max, but you have enough going on right now with bouncing between New York and Miami. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.

I didn’t doubt that she was fine and recognized my regular check-ins had more to do with my own anxiety over having a baby. Still, it made me feel better doing so. I’ll call once I’m there. Maybe we can grab dinner, and I can meet this guy who stole your heart.

She giggled over the phone. Tristan is traveling, but I guess I can meet you.

Gee, thanks, I teased.

Aww, you know I love you. Have a safe trip.

Once we ended the call, I pulled open the heavy oak door of Brad’s Tavern and sighed at the noise level. I was all about tranquility and improving health, while this scene was all about corrupting it. The place being mobbed on a Thursday night was the norm. In fact, there wasn’t a day during the week where my brother’s bar lacked patrons. Young professionals came in droves to hang out at his hotspot in SoHo. But on Brad’s infamous monthly Kismet Karaoke night, the normally crowded tavern turned into sheer madness.

A few steps inside and every woman’s eyes near the door zoned in on me. Being one-third of a set of identical triplets meant life was never dull. From birth, my brothers and I received attention for everything we did. Growing up under a constant spotlight was annoying and explained why Nate and I craved privacy.

Brad, on the other hand, couldn’t be more opposite to us. Dubbed an attention whore, owning one of the most popular bars in Manhattan served well to boost his never-ending ego. Whenever I sauntered into Brad’s Tavern for a drink, the women would flirt shamelessly, gawking at my identical brother and me like we were part of a rare exhibit at the zoo. God forbid if Nate also happened to be there, then the three of us became a science project to their endless, random, yet salacious questions. The most common being, "Are you identical everywhere?"

Hi there, Max, a blond waitress named Kipper said as she approached. She had a mad crush on my brother. But, since he was her boss, along with the fact my face was identical to his—same chestnut brown hair, same startling green eyes—she naturally set her sights on me as a substitute. Hooking up with me wouldn’t endanger her job. Except I wasn’t interested.

Hey, how are you? I asked politely but didn’t wait for an answer. A few more waitresses greeted me as I made my way toward my brother behind the bar.

Thank fuck, Brad said when he saw me approach. His other bartender, Vic, seemed even more relieved that I had finally arrived.

While Brad frantically barked out directives, I calmly rolled up my shirtsleeves and sighed. He then shoved me toward the end of the bar that I’d be manning for the night and in the process fed me to the lions.

Wait…you’re twins? a buxom redhead asked with a sly grin.

Brad stopped in his tracks, flaring his eyes in feigned shock and holding his heart. Oh my God, we are? It took a few seconds for her to realize he was kidding, and once a pitchy giggle escaped, my brother winked at her. As crazy busy as he was, he still made time to flirt.

God help me, I muttered.

He turned his back to her, gifting me with his scowl. "Can you please look like you want to be here?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

I mustered up a fake smile and in my best radio announcer voice said, This place is the bomb. I even gave him two thumbs-up for good measure.

Asshole.

No sooner had I assumed my position when a breathy voice asked, Excuse me, can I get a vodka martini?

Sure, I said, barely making eye contact with the redhead who brazenly placed her cool hand tipped with bloodred painted talons on my wrist.

"I like it extra dirty…three olives."

Of course she did. Coming right up. I quickly mixed her drink and placed it on the worn wood with a smirk. Nice and dirty, and eleven dollars, please.

I’m Gigi. She slid a twenty my way, along with a business card. Keep the change and my number. A flirty wink came next before she took a sip, her eyes never leaving mine.

Thanks. After I turned my back to put the money in the register and stuff the tip into the large jar, my eyes rolled toward the ceiling with another sigh. This was going to be a long fucking night.

From the moment I began serving, I didn’t stop for a solid hour. Finally, as the mob got ready to watch the karaoke that was about to begin, I had a small lull in my bartending duties.

By leaning back against the counter, I was first able to get a good look at the crowd. Every booth, table, corner was filled with boisterous patrons drinking their weight in top-shelf liquor. They all looked the same, twentysomething suits that had been released from their offices to let loose. And that was just what they were all doing.

Suddenly, a brunette beauty caught my attention and held it in the strangest way. She seemed familiar, but I knew if we had met in the past, we wouldn’t be strangers now…because, goddamn, even in her uptight business attire and hair bun, she stood out more than the rest of them. She also had a demure air about her that instantly intrigued me. Not snooty, more so conservative and maybe even shy. A stark contrast to everyone around her.

I watched her first scowl at something her friend said before breaking into an unguarded laugh. But when she turned her face toward me, and I locked eyes with her, a memory popped into my mind.

I had seen her before…at my gym. It all came back to me—how I tried to find her after getting held up by a phone call, only to realize that she was gone. The only thing she’d left behind was a sloppy signature on our guest log and an email address.

Jade something, I muttered, not realizing I’d spoken until my brother clapped a hand on my shoulder.

Jade something who? His eyes swept over the crowd like a hawk searching for its next meal.

No one, I lied, moving on to grab a beer for a customer. Thankfully, Brad did the same on his end of the bar and dropped his questioning.

Regardless of the demanding drink seekers, my eyes kept popping over to where Jade continued to chat with her friend, only difference now being she seemed nervous and agitated.

I’m back. Gigi, dirty martini girl, took a seat that had just vacated and giggled. So, what’s your name?

Max.

What time do you get off, Max?

Not soon enough, I said with a tight grin. Misinterpreting my comment, her front teeth clamped down on her full bottom lip around a demure smile. When I followed it up with, Excuse me, disappointment morphed over Gigi’s heavily made-up face.

Um…sure.

I moved toward a dude with a full beer and asked, Ready for another?

He looked down, shrugged, and said, Why not?

While reaching into the cooler to grab an icy brew, my eyes again searched for Jade as I uncapped the bottle and slid it toward the man.

Who are you drooling over? Brad asked close to my ear while his gaze scanned every woman in the vicinity. Sometimes, the triplets knowing each other better than anyone thing got really old. The blonde in green?

What? No. Go away. Traitorously, my eyes again landed on Jade, cluing my annoying brother in to who it was that caught my attention.

A firm pat on my shoulder came before he said, Oh yeah, Jade something is gorgeous. Her friend is superhot, too. Maybe we can both get lucky tonight.

Stop. And my getting lucky is not your concern.

He lifted his hands defensively. Just because you haven’t had sex in months doesn’t mean tonight shouldn’t be the night you give the boy some relief. His eyes drifted down my jeans before he raised them along with his eyebrows pointedly.

Stop looking at my junk, asshole. And how do you know I haven’t had sex in months? I argued, even though it was true, I hadn’t.

If I know my brother well, the day he learned that he put a bun in his friend’s oven was the day he stopped dipping his spoon into other bowls.

I blinked a few times at his stupid analogy before pushing him away. Get lost. Meanwhile, the fucker had to go and remind me of my reality.

A: I had gotten my good friend, Tracey, pregnant.

B: I hadn’t had sex since she announced that news.

In just about five months, I was going to be a father. That fact seemed to be affecting my ability to develop interest in someone. My life was crazy with a side of insane—back and forth from New York to Miami, keeping a business running while starting up a new one. And on top of all that, I had dad duties to prepare for now, and I didn’t take that

Reviews for Not According to Plan

[Deb Pden · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Characters are realistic..storyline is movie worthy. A lot of the characters are so true to life..your sure you know them. It's funny..great banter and some sticky situations. And STEAMY!!