Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  She stands and steps up one stair so she’s eye level with me. Her long red hair is half pulled back with a few pieces escaping. Her finger juts out as she points at me. “You better not hurt her.”

  I hold up my hands. “I promise.”

  “My daddy hurt her.”

  I frown. “I know.”

  “Okay.” She rushes up the steps and opens up the door. “Now you ring the doorbell so we can answer, and you can wait for her to make her entrance.”

  Before she has a chance to shut the door, I put up my finger. “How old are you again?”

  “Age is just a number,” she says, points at the doorbell, and closes the door quietly.

  At least one of Marla’s kids isn’t going to give her trouble.

  I ring the doorbell, and no one answers. Through the side window, I see Posey on the couch six feet away. I ring again and the blonde daughter, Nikki, answers the door.

  “Can you not hear that?” she says to Posey on the couch. “Oh. You.” She leaves the door open and walks away. “She’s still getting ready.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nikki leaves the room, blowing on her nails, and Jed walks in through the back door, a sweaty mess.

  He nods to me. “What’s up?”

  “You working out?”

  Two more large bodies follow him. Derek and Lincoln from the football team. Guys who are usually found hanging around my place. I blow out a breath.

  “Mr. Greene!” Derek says, putting up his hand for a high five.

  “Derek. Lincoln.” I nod at them both and give Derek the high five he’s looking for.

  “Jed’s got a killer gym in the garage out back. Better than the school’s. We were just working out.” Lincoln thumbs in the direction of outside.

  “Nice. Hope it will help. You boys really needed a win yesterday.” I mentally reprimand myself for resorting to adolescent passive-aggressive bullshit because Jed was the quarterback at last night’s game when they lost.

  Although the loss wasn’t completely his fault, he helped it by throwing two interceptions, one that resulted in a pick six. But I’m the grown-up here and need to act like one.

  “We still have state in the bag,” Jed says.

  I nod, biting my tongue.

  “Next week we play Lake Starlight!” Derek rubs his hands together. “I can’t wait to crush them.”

  “Let’s just be happy they don’t have Liam Kelly anymore,” Lincoln says.

  “Truth,” Derek says.

  Jed can’t bring much to the conversation since he’s new to town. I’m about to fill him in about Liam Kelly when Marla comes into the room. She’s wearing dark pants, high boots, a short black sweater, and a coat swung over her arm. She’s gorgeous. Especially with her strawberry-blonde hair down and curled.

  “Hey,” I say, standing.

  The three boys stand there looking from Marla to me.

  “You’re going out with Jed’s mom?” Lincoln asks with wide eyes.

  Shit. I guess my date with Marla won’t be as on the down-low as I’d hoped. Sorry, Cade.

  I ignore them and break the distance to her. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” She takes the lead, grabbing her purse from by the door. “Nikki is in charge, okay?”

  Jed is still speechless. I guess Marla didn’t tell him about the date. She hugs Posey, then we’re outside with three teenage boys gawking at us through the living room window.

  “I’ve never been able to get a room full of teenage boys not to say a word.” I open the truck door and she climbs in as though she’s used to pick-up trucks and not fancy sports cars that take corners on a dime.

  “I didn’t tell Jed. He mentioned going out, so I thought he’d already be gone. Or out in the garage. I wanted to just enjoy this evening and save having to listen to his thoughts about it until after our date.”

  I round the front of the truck and slide in beside her. My keys hover by the ignition. “You look stunning, by the way. I might have to rethink my stance of not sleeping with anyone on the first date.”

  She laughs so hard, her head falls back to the headrest. “Sorry, I’ve been repeating the rules to myself all week so I don’t break any.”

  I start the truck. “Let’s get out of Sunrise Bay and head somewhere we aren’t considered cousins.”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  On the drive, we make conversation, mostly about the weather and football. Easy topics.

  I park in the lot of the cooking school. “I couldn’t stand the idea of us in a stuffy restaurant or watching a movie. This place has a cook-off. Couples each make a meal and the owner judges.”

  She giggles. “And what do we win?”

  “I think a coupon to come back. It’s more about the experience.”

  She nods. “Awesome. Let’s go win a coupon.”

  Her hand goes for the door, but I stop her with my hand on her arm closest to me. “Hold on.”

  I climb out of my truck and head to her side, where I open the passenger door and offer my hand. The softness of her palm spurs me to think of what it would feel like to have it wrapped around another part of my body. I feel like a thirteen-year-old again, not a man in his early forties. Jesus.

  We walk into the cooking school hand in hand, and we’re the youngest couple by probably twenty years.

  “I think we’ve got some ringers here,” I whisper.

  “Might as well forget the coupon.” She glances at her watch. “Isn’t it past their bedtime?”

  We share a laugh that disrupts the other couples, and all their eyes land on us. Marla slides to my side, almost hiding behind me.

  “Hank and Marla, right?” Kat, the woman in charge, asks. I talked to her on the phone about getting a spot for tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.

  “That’s us,” I say. As weird as it might be, I love referring to Marla and myself as us.

  “Great, let’s get some aprons on you both and get started. The menu is at your station.” She hands us two aprons.

  I tie Marla’s in the back, and she ties mine. We wash our hands and listen to Kat go through the directions. When she finishes, I’m put in charge of cutting vegetables.

  “Do you cook a lot?” I ask Marla as she puts together a marinade.

  “I cooked, but I’m not a cook. I’d always try these elaborate recipes”—she whisks away—“and we’d end up throwing most of it out.”

  “When L—”

  She points at me.

  I laugh because I almost mentioned Laurie’s name. “I live and die by the Crock-Pot.”

  “I never was prepared enough. I’m a ‘go to the grocery store an hour before I have to cook’ kind of person.”

  “Mom brings things over sometimes, but she’s got this new friend now, so I don’t see her as much as I used to.”

  She puts the meat in the marinade, washes her hands, then puts a plastic wrap over the dish and places it in the fridge. “How is your mom?”

  “She’s fine, and if you run into her, I’m sure she’ll be bragging about me. I’ve already gotten the third degree from her about your return.”

  “What can I say? Mothers love me. Well, that’s not completely true.”

  “J—” I laugh as I almost mess up again by saying her ex-husband’s name.

  “I’m thinking we should’ve made up some penalties if you mess up.” She leans forward, taunting me.

  If she was mine right now, I’d kiss her because she’s adorable when she’s playful.

  “What would the penalty have been?”

  “Hmm…”

  She’s thinking about it, but Kat interrupts us before Marla can answer. She gives us directions on the next step.

  “I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before, but we might just win this thing with my salad dressing recipe.” Marla heads to the food area to grab lettuce for a salad.

  I continue chopping and wait for her to explain when she returns. I haven’t had this much f
un since… well, I need to keep my own promise. As hard as it is, if I really want to move on, I need to push Laurie out of my mind, at least for tonight.

  9

  Marla

  * * *

  How did I not think about this when Hank mentioned the cooking school? I grab vinegar, oil, and all the spices and herbs I’ll need.

  When I return, Hank is chopping the lettuce. “Tell me about this salad dressing that will secure our victory.”

  I glance around and pretend as though someone might be able to hear us and steal my recipe. “About two years ago, I went on this diet, and all the low-calorie salad dressings were awful. So I did some research and started making my own. The diet wore off, as they always do.”

  “They always do,” Hank says with a chuckle.

  “But I continued to use them because at least they cut calories still and they tasted really good.”

  He places the lettuce into a bowl. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

  With that declaration, nerves consume me. Jeff liked my salad dressings and that’s saying something, but my mother-in-law always said they tasted homemade. I wanted to pull my hair out and say, “Because they are!” I mix the ingredients together and set the bowl in the fridge because I need it to chill as long as possible for the flavors to come out. At least the herbs are fresh, which will help the flavor come out faster.

  Hank and I work side by side. He tells me about his dad and taking over the contracting business. I try to steer clear of talking about the kids because that leads to talking about Jeff. I can’t help but feel boring because unless he wants to know how to make homemade Play-Doh, I don’t have much else.

  “Do you feel like Sunrise Bay has changed at all?” he asks.

  “A little bit. I mean, it’s taken on a very different look. More modern.”

  He nods. “You should come to the town meeting next week. They’re talking about tearing down the old fishing wharf because Art Billings died last year. Before he died, the place was getting pretty run down, but no one has maintained it since he passed. My son’s friend’s dad wants to buy it and build it into a tourist attraction with boats that go out on the water. Then the fishing boats could use it too.”

  “Art Billings died?” He was a good man. He had no family to pass his company down to and I’d always hoped he’d find someone he trusted enough to sell it to, but I guess he didn’t.

  “Yeah, his health had been declining for years. But the whole town is torn on the issue. Cameron—that’s my son’s friend—his dad is really pushing hard though. I think we can all agree that an increase in tourism comes with both the good and the bad.”

  “That’s true. You think of the money it can generate for the town’s businesses, but I’m sure our small-town feel will suffer at the same time.”

  “That’s why you should vote. You are a resident again.”

  “Technically, I’m not. I’m living with my parents.”

  “Did you change your license to an Alaskan one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you are. Come on. We’ll go together. Really get this town talking.” He winks.

  “I’ll go, but maybe we shouldn’t walk in together. We could pretend both of us being there is a coincidence.”

  He smirks and shakes his head, placing the meat on the small griddle we were given. I can’t tell if he’s happy or disappointed. “Deal.”

  Kat tells us all that we have fifteen minutes until we have to present our meal. I can’t believe how fast time flew by. I run to the fridge and grab our salad and dressing. Hank prepares the vegetables and the meat while I do the salad, waiting until only a minute until the bell goes off before I put the dressing on, so it doesn’t make the lettuce soggy.

  The buzzer goes off, and Hank grabs me and wraps me up in a hug.

  “Great job, partner,” he says in my ear.

  “Thanks.” I’m taken aback by his show of affection, but the longer I remain in his arms, the more I realize that I feel safe. Being this close to him makes me happy.

  The entire time we were preparing the meal, I kept wishing I could kiss him. I wonder how he kisses, if he’ll be slow or urgent. Will the tension release and we’ll claw at one another until we’re satisfied, or will we be slow and savor each other?

  After we separate, Kat comes by and tastes our food. She takes a bite of the salad and points. “Love this dressing.”

  I smile wide at her. “Thanks.”

  “You went out on your own, huh?”

  “I did.”

  Hank sidles up next to me, his hand resting on my hip as though we’re a real couple. One who will be going home and sharing a bed tonight.

  “And my guess is this strong guy cooked the steak?”

  “I did,” Hank says, and his hand squeezes my side.

  I find myself sinking into his solid weight. The physical nature of his job has made sure those muscles he used to have under his T-shirts in high school are still there.

  “Nice. You two did great.” Kat sounds surprised, as though she thought we were failures from the minute we walked in.

  As she goes to the next table, Hank takes a fork and stabs the salad. He chews and swallows, eyes widening. “Damn, that’s good, and I’m not a salad guy.”

  “Not a lot of Alaskans are.”

  He mocks offense. “Don’t stereotype your new home.”

  “I’m just saying.” I shrug with a smile. Jeez, I can’t seem to stop smiling around him.

  He points at the salad with his fork before stabbing another forkful. “This is what you should be doing.”

  “What?”

  “Make salad dressings and sell them.”

  I laugh. “You’re insane.”

  He continues to eat the salad, and I pick up a fork to eat it as well. It is good, but how would I ever start anything like that? There have got to be so many rules and regulations with food.

  “I see your mind whirling at the possibilities,” he says softly. Then he takes the bowl of lettuce with the tongs and stops at the first table beside us. “Try this and tell us your opinion.”

  They look at him skeptically, but they taste it and smile and nod as though they’re in agreement.

  Hank goes around the room, and my cheeks heat the more praise I get. It wasn’t even chilled long enough.

  He returns with an empty bowl. “Now I’m going to need you to whip up a batch for my own private use. The doctor said I need more greens.” He pats his flat stomach.

  A weird rush comes over me, and it takes me a minute to realize what it is. No one except maybe my parents have ever believed in me like this. I step up to him and rise on my tiptoes, my lips pressing to his.

  At first he freezes and doesn’t move. I shift to fall back on my heels, but his arm swings around my waist and he keeps me plastered to his body. His tongue slides in and I melt into his hold when it glides against mine. Forgetting where we are, I moan into his mouth and he groans, his hand falling to the back of my head.

  Clapping commences around us. I tear my lips from his, turning my head to look away from everyone and pressing my cheek to Hank’s chest.

  “Sorry, folks, we’re new to this dating thing.” Hank puts up one hand.

  Someone in the room refers to young love. I giggle because we almost have adult children.

  “Never let the romance die,” one man says.

  “Gotta keep that sexual energy alive and kicking,” a woman says.

  As more comments roll around, I grip Hank to shield me from my embarrassment. He doesn’t seem to mind, wrapping his arms around me. I forgot how nice it felt to be part of a couple.

  The next Friday, I’m in the bleachers with a blanket over my lap and Posey at my side. Mandi and Nikki claim their blood hasn’t thickened enough yet, and since it’s only growing colder, they opted to stay home. We’re playing Lake Starlight High School, who I guess Sunrise Bay beat last year at state. It’s a big deal and is all Jed talked about this week.

  “Go,
Jed!” Posey screams, although there’s no way he heard her over the cheerleaders on the track.

  “Hank!” someone in the crowd says.

  My gaze can’t help but seek him out. He’s at the fence, talking to whoever must have called to him. His youngest, Chevelle, is at his side. Adam and Xavier are throwing a football back and forth behind him.

  Other than us meeting again at The Grind on Wednesday, I haven’t seen him. But he did text me and ask if I wanted to do pizza tonight again after the game. Another night with just the two of us would be nice but it’s not to be. With my parents not being here, I have no babysitter.

  Hank shakes the guy’s hand and looks up in the stands. I try to act as though I don’t care, a game I would have played in high school. Good thing Posey wasn’t my wing-woman back then.

  “Hank! Hank!” Posey raises her hand.

  He smiles and walks to the set of stairs closest to us. My stomach feels as though there’s a little girl jumping on a trampoline in there. Every time he gets stopped by someone on his way to us, I want to scream.

  After what feels like a lifetime, he’s at the edge of our bleacher. “May I?”

  Posey slides over and I slide too, leaving enough room for him and Chevelle. Chevelle pulls coloring pages and markers out of her backpack.

  She looks past me and her dad at Posey. “Do you want to color?”

  “Sure.” Posey throws the blanket off her lap, and the two girls go farther down the bleacher to spread out more.

  “How was your week?” Hank asks, his knuckles running along the side of my thigh where no one will see.

  “It was okay. My kids are officially done with salad and dressings.”

  Ever since we went to the cooking showdown, I’ve been trying to master the recipes, replicate them, and figure out a way to do something more with them.

  “Bring them to my place. Though my boys are kind of meat-and-potato guys. Chevelle loves salad though.”

  I smile at him. “I’ll bring some over this week.”

  “Great.” Hank winks.

  There goes my stomach again. “Did you want some blanket?”

  “Hey now, I’m a man. I don’t need a blanket.” He chuckles but takes the edge and slides it over his lap.