Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  And for the first time since I left New York, I cried.

  For everything that happened and the fact that I still felt so broken and so alone. For the fact that I couldn’t seem to let it go even though I wanted to. The only good thing was Jack—my little rescue kitten that was so sensitive to my moods—crawling into my lap and meowing until I cuddled him.

  I fell asleep with him on the couch.

  Pulling up to Grandma’s house, I don’t get out of the car yet. Brandon will be here any second, and I need a minute with him before we go inside. I haven’t really thought about what I’m going to say, but I know that I can’t jump straight into this meeting without talking to him.

  Dirt crunches under tires, and I see Brandon pulling up behind me. I’m out of the car before him, which is another mistake. Because now I have to watch him get out of the car like he’s the star of a fucking country music video. Jeans that are practically molded to his legs, dark t-shirt that shows off the arms I can’t seem to get enough of, and what looks like a couple days of beard.

  The stubble makes him look a little darker. Just a hint of edge, and holy shit what that image does to my insides. I’m suddenly vividly remembering the way that his lips felt on mine and the hard lines of his body pressing me against the door.

  Brandon walks to me, never looking away. He stops a foot away, eyes dropping to my lips. He’s not bothering to hide the fact that he wants to kiss me again. I want to kiss him again too, but I can’t.

  I swallow. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

  “I’m not.”

  “It was a mistake, Brandon.”

  He tilts his head to the side. “Are you sure about that?”

  I nod. “It can never happen again.”

  There’s no way I’ll risk Grandma’s legacy for kissing a man like him. He’s delicious, and now that I’d had that tiny taste I want more. But there will be others.

  Brandon just smiles. He seems amused, like he’s not convinced. He doesn’t have to be. I have enough willpower for the both of us. “Come on. If we stay out here much longer she’ll come out and ask why we’re procrastinating.”

  Just like I thought, my grandmother opens the door before you reach it. I nearly laugh. She’s done her damndest to throw Brandon off, because she’s wearing her bar clothes. Not something you ever imagine a woman in her seventies wearing, a ripped up Metallica t-shirt, tight black jeans, chunky bracelets and rings.

  She doesn’t dress like that anymore, and even when she was at the bar it was mostly for show, but sneaking a glance at Brandon’s face makes my day. He’s trying to cover his shock and not doing a good job of it.

  God, I love my grandmother. Who knows what the outcome of this will be, but no matter what, I’ll always be grateful for this.

  “Grandma,” I say, clearing my throat, “this is Brandon Wolfe. Brandon, this is Dorothy Thompson.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Brandon says, offering his hand.

  My grandmother takes it and gives him the handshake that I know has taken down men three times his size. “Likewise. Come on in, I’ve got the kettle on for tea if you want some, or I can grab you coffee.”

  “Tea would be lovely,” Brandon says as I follow them inside.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I quickly swipe to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Ellie Thompson? This is Ed Jones with Corrigan Deliveries. I’m currently waiting outside but there doesn’t seem to be anyone here.”

  I curse silently. Last week I ordered new glasses for the bar since so many of ours were getting dingy. “I’m so sorry, the delivery was supposed to be tomorrow.”

  “Got moved up.”

  “I’ll be there shortly. Less than ten minutes.”

  Really, universe? Right now? I need to be here to monitor this meeting, but there’s no way I can let a couple thousand dollars in glassware just sit outside the bar either.

  “There’s an early delivery that I have to take care of,” I say. “I’m so sorry. Can we push back for like an hour?”

  “Go ahead, Red.”

  “But—”

  My grandmother gives me a look that dares me to argue with her. It’s very effective, especially with the outfit that she has on. I trust her, I just don’t trust Brandon and his fucking charisma. He’ll charm her all over the place if I’m not here to be a shield.

  Then she raises her eyebrows, and I remember that my grandmother has been putting men like Caleb in their place with this stare for my entire life. She’ll be fine. I take a deep breath and swallow my anxiety. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

  As soon as humanly fucking possible. I risk getting pulled over with the speed I drive to the bar. It’s only a couple miles but I don’t want to piss off the delivery guy, and the faster I get it done, the faster I can get it back. He’s leaning against his truck when I pull up. “Hi,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”

  He nods. “Not a problem. I need you to sign and then I can get things unloaded.”

  I scrawl my signature across the bottom of the form after making sure that he’s delivering what I actually ordered.

  “Look good?”

  “Yeah.”

  I unlock the door to the bar, and he starts to load in the boxes of glasses. I use my copy of the form to make sure that it matches up. Usually I’d open the boxes as well just to make sure that they sent me the right thing, but I’m going to skip that step of due diligence so that I can get back to Granny’s house. But still, it takes longer than I’d like. Solidly a half hour before I’m able to jump back in my car.

  I’m not exactly sure what I’m afraid of happening, but when I walk back into my grandmother’s house I don’t expect them to be laughing like old friends. “What’s going on?”

  “Brandon was just telling me a funny story about a harmless kitchen prank. You know how I love those.”

  “I do,” I say, taking the third seat at the table. “Did you have a chance to talk?”

  “We did,” Brandon says. He’s still smiling, but he looks hesitant, because he knows exactly how I feel and I’m not hiding it.

  “And I think it’s an excellent plan,” Granny says.

  “What?”

  She looks at me. “It’s well thought out, and I really think it will help the business.”

  I’m speechless. Really and truly speechless. And I catch the flicker of a satisfied smirk on Brandon’s face. But before it can stay there, Granny looks at him. “But in order for me to sign off on this, you need to convince her.”

  Brandon’s face falls, but he recovers it quickly. I try not to show my shock. A couple of days ago she made it clear that she wanted to be the one making the decisions. “Actually,” Granny says, “I think it would be a good idea if Brandon took you out to dinner where you can talk about properly.”

  I glare at Brandon. “Did you put her up to this?”

  “He absolutely did not,” she says before he even has a chance to defend himself. “Get your head out of your ass, Ellie. Let the man take you to dinner and talk.”

  Brandon covers his laugh, disguising it as a cough. But he’s not fooling anyone. “I’ll do you one better,” he says. “Let me cook for you. That way there’s no audience, and I can show you that I’m more than just a corporate puppet. That I know what I’m doing, at least when it comes to food.”

  Glancing over at Gran, she motions with her head. “Fine,” I say. “Tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Guess I have some shopping to do,” he says, standing and shaking my grandmother’s hand. “Thank you for your time.”

  As soon as the door shuts behind him, Gran smacks my arm. “You don’t have to be rude, Ellie. You should be happy, I got you a date with a handsome man.”

  “Gran,” I sigh, “if I wanted a date with him I could have had one. He’s asked. Multiple times. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s in this for the money. They always are. You’ll say yes to this deal, and there will be something neither of us will see coming. A
nd then he’ll screw us over and both of us will be left with nothing.”

  I suddenly run out of words and blink. For a moment, I’m not sure I was entirely conscious, and I don’t know where all of that came from. Gran looks sad, and she reaches across the table to cover my hand with hers.

  “I wish I could take that hurt away from you,” she says gently. “I know I don’t understand all of it. And I haven’t asked because it’s not my business. But you are never going to be happy if you keep holding on to the past. Believe me, it’s a lesson that I’ve had to learn over and over again.

  “You need to enjoy yourself, and I’m hoping that this deal might be able to let you do that. It would give you money to travel, and freedom. You wouldn’t be stuck in this town the way that you were always afraid of. And if you don’t can’t do it, or don’t want those things anymore, then please just try to enjoy tonight. For me.”

  “How do you know that he’s not trying anything?”

  Gran smiles. “My gut. And faith. Promise me that you’ll try?”

  I roll my eyes. As if I have a choice. “Fine. I’ll try.”

  9

  Brandon

  I’m standing in front of the deli counter, completely paralyzed. Usually I love shopping for food, but right now I’m plagued with the absolute sense that I cannot fuck this up. There’s a lot riding on this dinner for me. Both the deal, and more importantly, Ellie’s trust.

  The fact that she’s still pushing me away doesn’t bother me. All I’ve wanted is one solid chance. If after that, she still doesn’t want to explore the chemistry that we obviously have, I won’t push her. But I just want a chance.

  I was pleasantly surprised by how the meeting had gone with Dorothy. She seemed really enthusiastic about the changes and improvements that I wanted to make. I hope that I can make Ellie see that they are good things too.

  I’m keeping it simple tonight. There’s no reason to blow her head off with something too fancy or an obscure foodie recipe. Granny’s was a place with a down-to-earth vibe, so I’m matching it. It’s a chicken dish with a marinade that I developed myself. Not unlike Granny’s barbecue sauce, this was my own highly guarded secret.

  That, and I planned on baking her desert. Something sweet to go along with our meal. Hopefully we’d get that far.

  This place was quaint. It was clearly a mom and pop operation, and though it wasn’t the biggest grocery store I’d seen in town, I’d wanted to experience more of the local flavor. Despite the size, they had a really good selection.

  There’s something special about little family-owned places like this. They’re full of passion. The owners of the stores did it because they loved it and they genuinely wanted to serve their communities. I’d gotten more than one fucking fantastic recipe or tip from owners of shops like these. It reminds me a bit of the pull I feel toward Granny’s, and toward Ellie. They both loved the place deeply.

  “Need anything else?” the shopkeeper asks.

  “No, thanks,” I say with a smile. “You’ve got a great place here.”

  The older woman grins. “That’s kind of you to say. We try to keep it interesting.”

  “I’m really impressed with your selection. You’re helping me out a lot.”

  Quickly, she looks over my ingredients. “Cooking for someone tonight?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Her eyes crinkle with the width of her smile. “I’ll be honest, most men I see don’t buy the ingredients for a cake if they’re just cooking for themselves.”

  The laugh spills out of me unexpectedly. “That’s fair. I didn’t think about it that way.”

  “Well,” she says, handing me my receipt and my couple of bags, “I hope whoever she is absolutely loves it.”

  “Thank you. I’m hoping for that too.”

  I’m hoping for everything. The kiss we shared lingers in my mind like a fucking firework. I won’t pretend that it’s not the best kiss that I’ve ever had. I’ve been dreaming about her mouth and everything attached to it. And for a second, when we were lost in that moment, she kissed me back. I felt it. Before whatever has her spooked got in the way.

  I stop by my hotel briefly to change. Not dressing up, but I don’t want to be wearing the same clothes that I left her in. Like hell am I wearing a suit. She had such a bad reaction to them that I haven’t done that again. Maybe someday I’ll understand her aversion, but until then, I didn’t need to torture her. Just simple, like the food I was planning. Jeans and a t-shirt.

  The address she gave me takes me right to the edge of town. But the opposite side of town from Dorothy’s place. It’s a quiet, cute neighborhood, and the houses almost strange for a town that’s in the middle of the desert. Small cottages that wouldn’t be out of place in a fifties suburb. The absolutely post-card picture beauty of a small town.

  The house itself is a beautiful barn red, and I wonder if that was an ironic twist on her name or if she didn’t have another choice. Either way, it makes me grin, and the house looks cozy as hell. Not exactly the kind of place I’d pictured for her, but I love it. It reveals a different side of Ellie.

  Before I get out of the car I double check the address just in case. It’s the right place.

  I’m right on time, because I couldn’t stomach being late. If this was my only chance, I wanted every second with her that I could manage. I wasn’t going to waste them trying to be fashionable. It only takes her a minute to answer the door after I knock, and she takes my breath away.

  She’s gone casual, like me. Even more so. What look like soft yoga pants and a t-shirt that’s slipping off one shoulder. It makes me grin because I know what she’s doing. By not dressing up at all, Ellie is trying to show me that she doesn’t care about this and that she’s not taking it seriously.

  But the blue of her shirt brings out the paleness of her skin and the redness in her hair, and she looks damn good. I don’t care that she didn’t dress up. I’d take this Ellie a thousand times over. Especially with the tempting glimpse of skin and collarbone that she’s showing right now.

  Our kiss flashes in my mind again, and I shove it away. I can’t think about that right now. Right now, my only job is to cook for her and prove that I’m a world class chef. Which I am. “Hi.”

  She looks me up and down once, and I watch her arch an eyebrow as she spins on her heel and heads into the house. I follow her, startling as something crashes into my leg.

  I shout in surprise, stumbling backward. A kitten’s tiny claws dig in as it attempts to climb me. It’s successful too, managing to get nearly to my hip before I set one of my bags down and pick the little thing off my jeans. “Who’s this?”

  Ellie is grinning now. “That’s Jack.”

  The kitten is almost completely black, with a little scrap of white fur on his chest and big green eyes. He meows at me when I lift him up to look at him. “Hello, Jack.”

  “I named him that because he likes to sit on my shoulder like a parrot, and he needed a pirate name.”

  I offer him my shoulder, and he clamors onto it immediately, turning and sitting wobbly. “Wow. How long have you had him?”

  “Not long. I found him near Granny’s. There wasn’t any sign of the mother or other kittens. I think he may have been the runt and gotten left behind. I couldn’t imagine just leaving him out there, so I brought him home. The little bastard has his claws in me now.” But she’s smiling as she says it.

  Yet another facet of Ellie Thompson. A soft heart who rescues animals. So many of our interactions have been harsh. Because she’s angry at me. And frustrated. I like seeing the side of her that smiles over her kitten.

  “Will Jack be my helper while I make dinner?”

  She snorts. “Maybe. But he might be more in the way than anything else. I’ll make sure to intervene if he is.”

  “Where’s the kitchen?”

  She leads me down the short hallway. “Through here. Make yourself at home.”

  “Anything that’s off limits
?”

  “No,” Ellie shakes her head. “But don’t break my shit.”

  I laugh softly. “Noted.”

  “What are you making me?”

  “That’s going to be a surprise.” I pass Jack off to her. “Can’t have you critiquing the meal before you eat it.”

  She smirks. “Fine, keep your secrets. But you have to tell me one thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “You have to tell me if you really didn’t put my grandmother up to the idea of this dinner. I’m sorry, but I have to know.”

  I put down the second bag and turn to face her fully. “I promise that I didn’t. At no point in the meeting did I mention my interest in you personally. We only talked about the business plan. I swear.”

  She searches my face like she’s looking for the lie. But I must pass the test because her shoulders sag in relief and she curls herself into a chair at the kitchen table around Jack, who immediately climbs to her shoulder and sits in her hair. “Okay.”

  Poking around her cupboards until I find the pots and pans, I start making the cake first. It’s going to need to bake, so whipping it together first is the right call.

  “So,” she says once I’m cracking eggs into a bowl. “Is this something that you do? You sweep into small towns and wine and dine your way to success?”

  I smirk and grab a whisk from her utensil jar. “It would probably be easier if I did, but no. You’re the first potential client that I’ve ever cooked for. Or at least, cooked at home for. I’ve borrowed restaurant kitchens a couple of times, but it’s not the same.”

  “I’m sure you did well,” she says. “If your skills at darts are anywhere close to your cooking.”

  “Actually, my cooking is better than my darts.”

  She scoffs. “I’m not sure that’s possible. I’m still amazed that you managed to land those shots. That should be like…impossible.”

  “Impossible is only something that you haven’t practiced.”