Boyfrenemy: A Payne Brothers Romance
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Epilogue - Mandy
Boyfrenemy
A Payne Brothers Romance
Sosie Frost
Boyfrenemy
Copyright © 2018 by Sosie Frost
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely 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 would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs
Created with Vellum
To L.G.
You know most of this book is true, don’t you?
Contents
A Note From Sosie
Also by Sosie Frost
About the Author
Boyfrenemy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Coming Soon - Wargasm!
Also by Sosie Frost
About the Author
Babyjacked
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid
1. Mandy
2. Nate
3. Mandy
4. Nate
5. Mandy
6. Mandy
7. Nate
8. Mandy
9. Mandy
10. Nate
11. Mandy
12. Nate
13. Mandy
14. Nate
15. Mandy
16. Nate
17. Mandy
18. Nate
19. Nate
20. Mandy
21. Mandy
22. Nate
23. Mandy
Epilogue - Mandy
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon - Wargasm!
Also by Sosie Frost
About the Author
A Note From Sosie
Thank you so much for grabbing Boyfrenemy. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!
As a special bonus, I’m including two extra books!
Before Julian and Micah, the tiny town of Butterpond was home to the romance between Cassi Payne—baby sister to the Payne Brothers—and Remington Marshall—town bad boy and new guardian to two little girls. BABYJACKED is the classic romance of a lumberjack and his nanny, and I’ve included it with Boyfrenemy just in case you want to read Cassi’s story.
I’m also including my favorite accidental pregnancy romance—Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid. All Nate wants is another night with the girl of his dreams, but Mandy has quite enough memories from their mistaken fling—including the baby she’s keeping a secret until after her sister’s disastrous wedding.
All three books in this file are full-length romances: 70k words (350 paperback pages).
I hope you enjoy!
Sosie
ALSO BY SOSIE FROST
Payne Brothers Romance
Babyjacked
Wargasm - Coming Soon!
Bad Boy’s Series
Bad Boy’s Baby
Bad Boy’s Redemption (Previously Bad Boy’s Revenge)
Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid
Touchdowns and Tiaras
Beauty And The Blitz
Once Upon A Half-Time
Happily Ever All-Star
Standalone Romances
Sweetest Sin - A Forbidden Priest Romance
Hard - A Step-Brother Romance
Deja Vu - An Amnesia Romance
While They Watch - A Sexy BDSM Romance
About the Author
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Boyfrenemy
The classic tale of the farmer
and the pain-in-the-ass zoning officer preventing him from building his barn.
Chapter One
Micah
It was a bad day to fall in love.
Then again, every day was a bad day to fall in love.
I’d missed the warning signs—the alarm that never went off, the torrential downpour, the car that didn’t start.
Days like that day were perfect for hiding in the office and catching up on paperwork. There, the only risk was the occasional coffee ring on an important contract or an unfortunate paper cut. And while I was sure that the good, old-fashioned journey of self-destruction they called love might have been exhilarating for the first few irresponsible moments, that sort of complication had no place in my life plan.
Especially since Mr. Julian Payne was the wrong man to steal my heart.
If he could find it under the layers and layers of mud.
Mud made a bad day worse. Worse and soggy. Mud caked me head to toe, settling in a variety of places that would require a very intimate scrubbing. Unlike Spa Gemma—Ironfield’s hottest and most exclusive health resort—Butterpond’s famous mud offered no organic benefits to skincare or hydration. Instead, this particular land was supposedly exceedingly fertile. Not any concern of mine, considering the next five years of my life were specifically organized to focus on career growth and physical fitness.
Butterpond wasn’t a great launch pad for any future ambitions or social networking. After four months of employment in the municipal zoning office, my most productive assignment had been unwedging myself from a mud hole in the Payne’s driveway-turned-swamp. I’d kept my shoe but lost my dignity to the sticky pit.
First, my broken-down car.
Then, getting tsunami’d by a speeding pickup truck tearing through a pond-sized puddle on Bakers Run Road.
And now…
Mud.
I’d fallen—wallowed—in six inches of uncompromising, unrelenting mud, crawling hand over fist until I reached the safety of the Payne’s county-styled farmhouse.
And, at the end of the quarter-mile trek up the filthy, water-logged, knee-deep mud driveway? I faced a man who might have stolen my breath if I hadn’t lost it all on the hike to his porch.
Julian Payne was a superior kind of sexy.
As hot as a flickering cigarette after hours of lovemaking.
As teasing as a wrinkle in the sheets twisted by bare toes.
As damning as a body prickling with sweat in the dark.
He was the type of man who’d make a woman giggle as she made the biggest mistake of her life.
I’d made a personal promise to never compromise my values for a little green, but eyes like his were worth dirtying a clean reputation in a new town.
My heart beat quicker—and it wasn’t the panic of leaving my Jimmy Choo’s sinking in a puddle of gloppy mud. This was either love at first sight…or an entirely inappropriate reaction as I stared at Julian, pacing the porch in broad, athletic strides.
Shame. Definitely shame.
I was supposed to be meeting this man on behalf of the Sawyer County Zoning Department. Instead, I drooled over a god so beautiful, so muscular, so utterly stunning that he’d be a perfect excuse to amend my current life plan of career advancement for a fairy tale dream of desire and lust.
Then…he opened his mouth.
“You know what’s wrong with this world?”
Julian spoke daggers—slicing words from lips that shouldn’t have tumbled anything but compliments and dirty words.
He wove his hand through thick, dark hair—wet from either the rain or a shower. His flannel shirt, only halfway buttoned, revealed a hard chest of solid muscle.
This was a man who had never feared a day of hard work in his life. Probably made hard work fear him.
Julian paced the porch, but he wouldn’t outrun his frustration. “I’m trying my goddamned hardest to get this farm up and running.”
This was a proud man. A confident man. A man unburdened by mud and dirty puddle water. And I stood, unnoticed, caked in the unthinkable.
Of course I would meet the man of my dreams while living a waking nightmare. But maybe he’d like a woman who smelled like his farm.
God…I hoped it was just farm I smelled. What the hell was in that mud?
Across the old, rickety porch—covered with a roof that would never meet modern structural guidelines—Julian’s friend eyed me with shock…then pity. Probably the same look I’d receive once I returned to the township offices for my scheduled meeting with the mayor and city council.
So much for the raise.
The second man bounced a baby on his knee. He didn’t seem the type to cuddle a one-year-old, but the baby took glee in tugging the trimmed beard teasing his hardened jaw. He spat out the fingers the little girl jammed into his mouth and attempted to interrupt Julian to greet me.
Julian ignored his friend and proceeded to rant instead.
“How the hell am I supposed to work this farm? The taxes are killing me, the regulations are binding my hands, and now this zoning bullshit tells me where I can and can’t build on my own damn property?”
He was a rugged sort of cowboy, chock full of muscles and arrogance and something less pleasant.
I attempted to interject and announce my arrival, but Julian had no time in the world to listen to anyone by himself.
And I didn’t like what I heard.
“This is our land. It was my father’s land. His father’s land. And his father’s land.” He slapped a calloused hand against the clapboard siding of his house. His home didn’t deserve the solid spank, punishing the building for the inconvenience of the zoning laws that were my job to enforce. “My grandparents built this home from nothing. When my father took over the farm, he worked every day of the year. Sunup to sundown. Back then, no municipality ordered them around on their own private property.”
Why did the cute ones always advocate anarchy?
A man like Julian Payne should’ve stayed quiet and enjoyed the air of mystery. Tall, dark, handsome, and utterly silent. Gone was my fantasy of a rugged cowboy, riding us off into the sunset on his trusty horse, while obeying every zoning regulation set forth in the county’s Unified Development Ordinance.
This was not a man who wanted to play by the rules…or by the laws enacted via local ordinance by the Sawyer County Board of Supervisors and vested in me as Director of Building and Zoning.
“Now there’s some hotshot, wannabe politician telling me what to do?” Julian hadn’t yet noticed me. That was fine. I’d wait this performance out. “He’s probably some fat ass who never even set foot on a farm.”
My ass was not fat. And none of my previous admirers had ever complained about the bump. All…two of them.
Julian seethed, his boots thudding hard against the porch’s warping planks. “He’s probably never worked a day in his life, you know?”
His friend cleared his throat. “Uh…”
“Probably spent his life sitting behind some desk in a cushy office.”
My desk had three legs and a pile of books propping up the fourth. One florescent bulb had burned out a year ago and had yet to be replaced. And, when it rained, the window leaked and trickled water into the outlet.
Real cushy.
Julian smirked. “Probably gets off on the power. Jerks it every time he rejects a building permit application.”
If I took any more offense to his statement, I’d be stuffing my pockets with indignation.
So what if my job was in an office? What did it matter if I wasn’t riding a tractor in the sun all day? I had papers to file and applications to review and men like him to disappoint when they thought they could do as they liked without regard to the greater good of the community.
But Julian was right.
His was one building permit application that would be downright orgasmic to reject.
“Know it took me two weeks to even get an appointment with this asshole?” Julian said. “And now he’s t
oo goddamned incompetent to show up on time.”
Incompetent?
I’d just lost a five-hundred-dollar pair of shoes in the pit he called a driveway. This was after I’d rearranged my entire schedule to visit him in person, sacrificing my thirty-minute lunch and a growing stack of county fair plans in desperate need of review. I’d come to Triumph Farm as a favor to the one man everyone in Butterpond loved like their own damned child.
And now I was incompetent?
No matter how panty-melting handsome the son of a bitch was, he was going to be nothing but a pain in my ass.
“Julian!” The man holding the baby finally interrupted the rant, but Julian had already stuck his foot so far in his mouth he’d be shitting toes for a week. “I think he is here.”