Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  It hurts.

  Grandma lives on the edge of this tiny town in an even tinier blue house. She moved into it a few years ago, after getting tired of all the space in her old one. My grandfather died a long time ago, and since I wasn’t living with her anymore she ‘didn’t want to spend time cleaning space she never used.’ Her words, not mine.

  Honestly, the little house suits her. It’s not much, just a one bedroom with a kitchen and a small living room, but she’s happy here. It’s decorated in light, airy colors and because she’s got a nice plot of land at the border of town, she’s got one hell of a view.

  The Arizona desert isn’t for everyone, but its got its own kind of beauty. The stark landscape and endless sky is something I missed when I was in New York. Maybe there’s something that’s built into you when you live in a place so long, like a little of it soaks into your DNA and never leaves. Because I can’t imagine not loving staring up into infinite blue and feeling the warmth of the summer sun.

  Even if the heat can fuck off most of the time.

  When I shut my car door, I see a flicker in the kitchen curtains. Grandma knows that I’m here, and she opens the door before I make it to her. “Was I expecting you today?”

  I smile. “I can’t just drop by?”

  She hits me lightly on the arm as I slip inside. “Of course you can, I just want to make sure this old brain wasn’t forgetting everything.”

  “Your brain is better than mine,” I say. “More likely I’d be the one forgetting.”

  She laughs. “Kettle is on. Want some tea?”

  “Sure.”

  I watch her walk to the stove and sit down at the table in her small breakfast nook—a sun-soaked space surrounded by three windows that face the view. She pours us both tea and brings it over, sighing as she sits. I study her for a moment. She looks tired. More run down than I remember.

  Guilt spikes in my chest. Of course, I wasn’t exactly here to see how fast that was happening while I was off doing my own thing. That worked out well. “You okay, Grandma?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  Stirring a little sugar into the tea, I shrug. “I don’t know, you just seem tired.”

  Grandma snorts in a decidedly unladylike fashion. “I’m always tired, Red. This is what getting old is like, didn’t you know?”

  “I think they left that out of the handbooks,” I admit.

  “I’ll mark it down on my list: write Red a new aging handbook before I kick the bucket. That’ll be the last item on the bucket list.”

  I laugh. “You have a bucket list?”

  “Every old person has a bucket list. Add that to the handbook too,” she says. “So why are you here?”

  “To visit you?”

  Grandma rolls her eyes. “Of course. But I can see on your face that there’s something else. And I remember doing inventory. When you’re done, the only thing you want to do is go home and stare at the ceiling.”

  “I forgot that I told you I was doing that.”

  “But you did. So why are you here instead of at home staring at your ceiling?”

  I sigh and take a long sip of tea. “I’m here to tell you about a business offer that I’d rather forget, but as the person pointed out, I’m not the legal owner of the bar, and so I have to tell you about it.”

  My grandmother raises an eyebrow and smiles. “If he went up against you and won, then this should be interesting.”

  “What makes you think it’s a he?”

  “It’s always a he,” she says, patting my hand and standing. She grabs a box of her homemade cookies—to die for—and puts them on the table. “Women know how to approach other women. Even if the bitches piss us off, they never make us sigh like that.”

  A laugh bursts from my lips. She’s not wrong. “Okay fine, it’s a he.”

  “Is he attractive?”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not at all relevant to the conversation.”

  “It could be.”

  “It’s not.”

  She takes a defiant bite of a cookie. “All right then, tell me what the mystery man wants with Granny’s.”

  I lay it all out for her, from the purchase of the sauce formula to the complete renovation with a focus on turning it into a tourist location. I tell her everything, though I don’t pretend to be unbiased about it. I like Granny’s the way it is. Hometown feel, hometown flavor. It doesn’t need to be urbanized.

  But to my never-ending horror, Grandma doesn’t freak out and tell me to call Brandon right away and threaten to chop his balls off.

  Yes, I imagined the conversation going that way. And yes, it would have been absolutely epic.

  Instead, she says nothing, staring into the middle distance for a moment, warming her hands around her teacup. “I want to meet with him.”

  “What?!” Outside my own body, I can hear the horror and desperation in my voice. “Are you serious?”

  She looks offended. “Of course I’m serious.”

  I can only imagine what my face looks like…utter shock. “Why?”

  Grandma smiles at me. “I’m not getting any younger. I want to make sure that you’re taken care of before that happens. You know that I’m leaving Granny’s to you, right?”

  “We’ve never talked about that,” I say. “And I would never assume it.”

  “Well it’s already a done deal. I had it put into the will.” She pushes another cookie towards me before putting the box away.

  It’s a touching gesture, and one that’s almost relieving. Always nice to know that the thing you’re putting a lot of work into will benefit you in the future. “Thank you. But if you’ve made that decision, can’t you see why I might not want this deal?”

  I don’t think that my grandmother would ever actually roll her eyes at me, but the expression on her face right now is pretty close. “I didn’t say I was going to run into his arms and faint breathlessly before begging him to let me sign a contract. I said I wanted to hear the man out.”

  “It’s not a good idea, Grandma. He’s just in it for the money. They all are.”

  “Red.” She levels a look at me. “Set it up.”

  “But—”

  “Set it up.”

  I clamp my mouth shut, trying to keep in another round of protests. Dorothy Thompson is just as stubborn—or more—than I am. And once she’s made up her mind, she’s not going to take no for an answer.

  “Now that you’ve been back in town for a few weeks, has anyone caught your eyes?”

  I take a sip of my tea. “Really? You’re going to change the subject by asking me about my dating life?”

  Her eyes sparkle. “It’s an excellent diversion.”

  “No, no one’s caught my eye,” I lie. Because someone has, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling the man that’s making her the offer is sexy beyond belief, and every time I think about him I’m distracted by imagining all the possibilities of him and me. And all the things that we can do horizontally.

  I need to get him out of my town as soon as humanly possible.

  4

  Brandon

  Driving back into Devil’s Hood feels a little like coming home. Even though the town is in the middle of the desert, it’s got that kind of feel to it. You can tell that the people who live here love their place, with all kinds of little touches. Tiny, well-maintained green spaces and fresh coats of paint on old houses.

  Traveling as I did to track down new foods, I’d seen a lot of small towns. A fair share of them had felt dead. Like the hope had gone out of everyone living there and they were just existing and trying to get by. It didn’t feel like that here.

  It’s been a couple of days since I’ve been in town. I went back to Phoenix to check out another local place, and to get my stuff from my hotel so I could move to the one in town here. I didn’t lie to Ellie—I’m planning on sticking around for a while in hopes that I can change her mind.

  If dangling the carrot in front of her won’t work, then mayb
e persistence will.

  The other restaurant I tried—incidentally another barbecue joint—I didn’t bother talking to the owner. It paled in comparison. I was already determined to win Ellie over, but that solidified it.

  Not to mention that the grumpy redhead has been on my mind. And not in an entirely business-like fashion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get her or her curves out of my head. My imagination played out different ways that the meeting at the bar on Saturday morning could have gone.

  All of them ended in breathless wanting and pleasure and not simply glares and coffee. To say I was intrigued by this woman was an understatement.

  It was a dangerous game to play, but the more I thought about it, the less I minded the risk.

  Just after noon. I still have a couple of hours before I have to check in to my hotel. Might as well investigate some of the other local food spots. I’m hungry anyway, and this is always a good way to find out about local competition before embarking on a rebranding. You had to know the flavor of a place before you could tailor it to be successful.

  I already hit up the coffee shop when I picked up my peace offering for Ellie on Saturday, but if I recall correctly, there’s a diner not too far from there. Yes, there it is.

  It’s got classic diner architecture with silver and chrome and big windows, with cheerful signs advertising the ‘best burger on this side of the Grand Canyon.’ That’s something that can easily be tested.

  I chuckle to myself, imagining finding two stellar delicacies in the same tiny town. The discovery would turn Devil’s Hood into food Mecca. I wouldn’t mind that. If anything, finding another food to acquire might help nudge Ellie closer to letting me sign the deal for Granny’s sauce.

  Parking my car, I step out into the stifling heat. It’s true what they say down here—it is a dry heat. But that doesn’t make it any less hot when the thermometer is regularly topping triple digits. The diner’s air conditioning is almost frigid by comparison, and it is very welcome. Then I freeze, and the smile is on my face before I can stop it.

  I’m the luckiest man in the world.

  The diner is nearly empty, and Ellie Thompson is sitting in a booth. Alone. Eating a burger.

  This is perfect.

  “May I join you?” I ask as I slide into the bench seat across from her. It wasn’t phrased like a question.

  Immediately, she’s shooting daggers from her eyes. “You’re still here?”

  “I told you I’d be sticking around town for a while.”

  She sighs. “You’re free to do that, but you don’t have to stick around me specifically.”

  “Who better to witness my test of the best burger this side of the Grand Canyon?”

  Ellie looks around the diner and even out of the windows, like she’s searching for someone who might rescue her from me. But it’s the middle of the day on a Monday. Not a lot of pedestrians or people eating out. Monday is one of the deadest days in the business.

  “I actually just got back into town,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Went back to phoenix to check out another barbecue place. You’ll be happy to know that it has nothing on yours.”

  Ellie says nothing, focusing hard on her burger. But it’s also easy to tell that she’s listening to me. Interested, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

  “It wasn’t bad of course, but nothing to write home about. Speaking of home, the little time I’ve been here, I can really see why people love this town. It’s clear that the people here love it and take care of it. Definitely a lot more inviting than some I’ve visited. It’s a nice spot to get away.”

  “Is that what you’re going to put on the posters after you turn Granny’s into a hotel?”

  I ignore the jab. We both know that’s not my intention.

  While she’s not looking at me, I take the chance to study her. The sun shining through the windows catches her hair and lights it up like a halo of flames. And I swear the more that I stare at her, the more I want to burn.

  She’s got that pale, redhead skin that I’m sure is hard to protect from the Arizona sun and makes me want to find out just how hard I can make her blush. Green eyes and freckles that I could see myself counting.

  Fuck, she’s beautiful. And that pull in my gut hasn’t lessened one bit.

  “Have you thought about my offer?” I ask.

  I get my wish as Ellie’s face flushes a lovely shade of pink. “No, I haven’t thought about you at all.”

  If I had the chance, I would wager everything in my bank account that that blush says differently. Which only gives me misplaced hope and drives me further down this path with her.

  “I didn’t ask if you’d thought about me,” I say softly. “But I can’t say that I’m unhappy that you did.”

  Ellie blushes brighter and glares at me, clearly willing me dead and elsewhere. “I said that I didn’t.”

  “Your skin tells a different story.”

  We stare at each other, hanging in the moment, and leaning towards the other just an inch before she sighs and looks away. “My grandmother says that she wants to meet you.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised. Ellie seemed pretty convinced that her grandmother would tell me to go to hell in a handbasket.

  “Believe me,” she says, “I tried to convince her that it was a terrible idea.”

  I laugh. “I don’t doubt that.”

  But I can’t stop smiling. This, I can do. As I smile wider, her frown gets deeper. “Stop looking so happy.”

  “I can’t help it. I’m a happy guy.”

  She snorts. “You wear suits for a living. How happy can you be?”

  “Wearing suits is rarely a part of my job. A necessary evil sometimes, but I’m still a chef. You’re more likely to find me in a dirty apron than a three piece.”

  That seems to give her pause, and she looks at me almost sideways. And then the contemplation disappears, and grumpy Ellie is back.

  I think I could get used to her grumpiness.

  Ellie sets down what’s left of her burger and takes a sip of her burger. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You’re going to meet with my grandmother and you’ll get your chance to go into detail about your plans. She wants to listen, so make it good. Do your worst. Or Best. Whatever.”

  I smirk. “I always bring my best Ellie. To whatever I do. In business and outside of it.”

  There’s that blush again, and I count it a small victory. I could get addicted to finding new ways of making her blush. I’m already halfway there.

  “I don’t need to know what you do outside of your business.”

  “I don’t know Ellie. It’s never a good practice to start out a business relationship on lies, and I think you very much want to know what I do outside of my business.”

  “No.”

  Leaning forward, I hold her gaze. “Prove it.”

  “I don’t have to do that,” she says, mirroring my pose. “I don’t have to do anything. I already know all about guys like you.”

  “Guys like me, huh? Tell me what you think you know before you go lumping me in with a bunch of strangers.”

  “You live in New York, right?”

  I nod, trying to ignore how much closer our faces are together, and how appealing her lips are right now. Just like in the bar the other morning, it would be so easy to close that distance. So easy to kiss her. “I do, most of the time.”

  She laughs, but it’s not a joyful sound. “I know New York men. Always looking for the next big thing. Money is everything to them, and the only thing they’re looking for in their life is a pretty face to have on their arm when the newspaper snaps the photo. Otherwise you’re expendable.”

  I’m suddenly angry. Not at her, but at whoever got in her head this deeply that she would think that all men are that. That’s a scar that’s deep, and if I ever found the guy who did that to her I’d have to beat the hell out of him just on principle. “Good thing I’m
not a New York guy,” I say. “I just live there.”

  She shakes her head like she doesn’t believe me, and now I’m very sure that she doesn’t. “Let me make myself clear. If you try to con my grandmother. If you try to take advantage of her in any way. If you somehow get her to say yes and promise things that you can’t deliver, or cross her at all. You and I will have bigger problems than this.” She gestures between us.

  Ellie hasn’t noticed that she’s leaning even closer now. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her. “And let me be clear,” I say back. “I don’t know what shithead convinced you that every man who wears a suit is a raging dickhead, but he’s the scum of the earth. I’ve never once conned a client or promised something I couldn’t deliver—feel free to ask my other clients. They’ll be happy to take your call. And this?” I copy her movement and gesture between us. “This is not a problem. Chemistry is never a problem.”

  “Tell that to the explosions that happen in high school classrooms.”

  I just grin and drop all pretenses that I’m flirting with her. “I like the fact that you think that we would be explosive.”

  Ellie rolls her eyes, sitting back and breaking the string of tension that had woven itself between us.

  “I’m not who you think I am, Ellie. I promise. But I know that promises can be broken, so I’d like to show you, if you’ll let me. While I’m here, I’d really like to get to know you.”

  There’s no ignoring the pull I feel toward her. I’m only going to keep justifying little moves until it’s too late. But I’m not a little moves type of guy, so I might as well be all or nothing. Since she’s not the owner of the bar, and not the one who will be making the final business decision, it’s not as much of a conflict of interest.

  Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

  Ellie Thompson is the most beautiful, interesting woman that I’ve met in a long time, and I want to know everything about her.