Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  "Are you sure?" I ask, partially afraid that this is all some sort of sick joke Asher's trying to pull. "How much do I owe you?"

  "You don't owe me anything."

  "I must pay you something. This is too nice."

  "Consider it repayment for returning my wallet."

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. I really want the camera, but I'd feel guilty for taking something that doesn't belong to me. I didn't earn it.

  I put the camera back in the bin. "I'm sorry, I can't accept this."

  Asher stares at me like I've grown two heads. "I said it was fine."

  "I know, but I don't need it. I appreciate the thought, though. I just wouldn't feel comfortable taking what isn't mine. Thank you, anyways."

  He continues to regard me, confusion darkening his already dark eyes. "Uh… All right," he says, perplexed. "Whatever you want."

  "Didn't mean to waste your time. I'm sure you probably have a lot to do."

  "It wasn't a waste."

  "So… You own the place, huh?"

  Asher nods. "Yes, ma'am. The Grandiose is my pride and joy. Have you ever been here before?"

  "No, this is my first time."

  "I'll give you a tour."

  I smile politely and shake my head. "That's nice of you, but I should probably get back to my clients. I still need to make sure I get paid."

  "I didn't know you were a photographer."

  "Oh, I don't advertise it. It's just to make a little extra cash. I mostly just work at the shelter. That's my pride and joy."

  The faintest smile ghosts across Asher's lips, an amused glint flashing behind his eyes. "I see," he says.

  Neither of us makes a move. He regards me with an intensity I've never experienced before. I feel hot under his gaze, but I can't bring myself to look away. It's like Asher's studying me, eyes trailing over my body to drink in the details. I don't exactly know what he seems so fascinated by, though.

  "I should get going," I say softly. "Thanks again, Mr. Chase."

  "Just call me Asher. Have a good day, Miss Shellbrook."

  "Lake is fine."

  "Lake," he echoes, testing my name on his tongue. There's something downright sexy about the way he says it, unbelievably deep and slow.

  It takes me another moment to muster up the strength to turn and leave. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away. It's exhilarating, but I force the feeling down. I'm sure it's just my imagination. There's no way a guy like him is interested in a woman like me. He's probably just being polite.

  That doesn't explain the butterflies in my stomach, but I can't think of another logical answer.

  I go back to the bachelorette party. The bride pays me double what she actually owes, apologizing profusely for the trouble. She promises to leave an excellent review and even gives me a few referrals for future jobs. It looks like things are going to work out, after all.

  As I head home, I take in the neon glow of the Strip. It's almost dreamlike, what with the sun setting in the distance, splashing shades of pink, gold, and orange across the sky. It isn't until I get home that I realize I can still feel the phantom sensation of Asher's hand against my own. The memory of his eyes tracing over me has me feeling warm all over straight through the night.

  4

  ASHER

  Lake Shellbrook is something else. I knew it from the second I laid eyes on her. She’s too honest, too unassuming and kind for Las Vegas. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t have jumped at the chance at a new camera like that. A new free camera.

  Todd watches as I pace around the control center, lost in thought.

  “Mr. Chase? Is everything all right?”

  The short answer is yes. Technically, everything is fine. The long answer is I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone quite like Lake before. I’m far more intrigued than I thought I would be. It’s been ages, literally years since a woman has managed to catch my eye. After Natalia left, I’d thrown myself into my work, finding more satisfaction and pleasure in a job well done than in the company of another.

  It’s not like I’m bitter about Natalia. Last I heard, she’d settled down and had a kid. Good for her, really. Natalia always spoke about how she wanted to start a big family and get herself one of those houses with the big lawns and a white picket fence. That was where we didn’t see eye to eye. I was too busy with The Grandiose. I preferred the constant buzz of the Strip, the busyness and anonymity of Vegas. I don’t blame her for breaking things off. We just weren’t compatible. I haven’t bothered with dating ever since.

  There’s no denying that Lake is attractive. There’s something incredibly refreshing about her humility and simplicity. The women that surround me at work are all too much. Big hair, overpowering perfumes, overdrawn lips and obviously fake lashes. Lake doesn’t seem to care about any of that, doesn’t try to keep up to meet others' expectations. I remind myself that I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone right now, but I still really want to know more about her.

  “What can you tell me about Shellbrook Animal Shelter?” I ask Todd.

  He taps the screen of his iPad and does a quick search for me. “Established in 2005,” he reads aloud. “Founded by Mary and David Shellbrook.”

  “Her parents?”

  “I think so. It doesn’t really say. They have a website, but… Ooh, boy.”

  “What?”

  “It looks like somebody let a toddler mess around with the HTML. I don’t think their website’s been updated since the creation of the internet.”

  I take a look over Todd’s shoulder. He’s right. The background is an ugly puce color, the font is in Comic Sans, there are flashing GIFs of barking dogs, and the whole website chugs terribly when Todd tries scrolling through the pages.

  “What else?” I ask, moving things along.

  “It’s a non-profit, no-kill shelter. They apparently have a successful fostering and adoption program; though, it looks like they have had to downsize several times in the past couple of years due to lack of funding.”

  I mostly just work at the shelter. That’s my pride and joy.

  Lake’s voice echoes inside my skull, the delicate lilt of her words offering a comforting melody.

  “Bring the car around,” I instruct.

  Todd arches a brow. “Where are we going?”

  “The shelter.”

  I can tell my nephew really wants to ask why I want to go, but he’s smart enough not to ask unnecessary questions. He tucks his iPad beneath his arm and nods, heading toward the door to fetch my car.

  The smell of wet dog hits me harder today. There’s a lot more noise coming from the back of the shelter, and a few families mosey about the cramped main lobby. A girl is working behind the front desk, but it isn’t Lake. This girl has dark curly hair and bright green eyes. The nametag on her work shirt reads: Maeve. The bell above the door announces my entrance, prompting the girl to look up.

  Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. I pretend not to notice.

  “Um… Oh, wow,” she breathes. “Hi. Uh, yeah. Hi. How can I help you?”

  “Is Lake in today?” I ask.

  “Yeah, she’s just filing some adoption papers out back. I can go get her, if you’d like.”

  “I can wait.”

  “Sure. Let me know if you need anything. Like, at all.”

  I stand off to the side and take everything in. This shelter has probably seen better days. The light blue paint on the walls is peeling in certain corners. Infographic posters pinned to the bulletin board next to the front desk look out-of-date. A small shelf directly across from me sells various pet supplies like animal-friendly shampoos, dog treats, and squeaky toys. It’s hard to ignore the thin layer of dust covering every single surface in here. I don’t suspect this place gets very much foot traffic.

  A young couple exits the back room, a tiny Corgi puppy pulling ahead of them on a leash. Lake follows after them, waving and smiling as they say goodbye.

  “Take good care of him,�
� she says chipperly.

  “We will,” the couple says together as they take their newest addition outside.

  Lake spots me and breaks into a surprised grin. “Asher? What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to come and see…” I freeze. Shit. What was I going to say? “The dogs,” I blurt out hastily. “I wanted to come and see the dogs.”

  Her expression falters for a second, like she’s disappointed to hear my answer. But she moves on, not a hint of hesitation when she asks, “Are you interested in fostering? Adopting? Maybe just volunteering your time?”

  “I’m not sure yet, actually. Maybe just a donation.”

  “A donation? Well, that’s very kind of you.”

  I reach into my suit jacket’s inner pocket and pull out my checkbook and pen. “Who do I make it out to?”

  “To the business. Shellbrook Animal Shelter, LLC.”

  “Sure.” I scribble down an amount, date, and then sign. I hand her the cheque and do my best to ignore the thrill that shoots through me when I see Lake’s face brighten up.

  “Are you serious?” she asks, unable to keep from smiling. “This is a lot, Asher.”

  “Just doing my part. For the animals.”

  Lake laughs softly. I’m taken with how enchanting she sounds, almost like a siren lulling me closer. I’m sure it’s intentional, but God, she sounds so damn cute.

  “Thank you,” she says. “This’ll help out a lot.”

  “No problem.”

  “Come on,” she says, reaching out to touch my elbow. “Let me introduce you to the dogs.”

  “That’s, uh… That’s really not necessary.”

  Lake snickers. “Oh? You’re not scared of dogs, are you?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Then come on.”

  For some reason, it’s too hard to say no. I allow her to lead me to the back room, rather enjoying the fact that she’s touching me. It’s an impersonal kind of contact, a little stiff, but my chest tightens all the same at the fact that her fingers feel so delicate against my arm.

  There are three dogs out in a large room to my right. To the left is yet another room full of stacked kennels. Several dogs are inside, most of them resting. Lake takes me to the playroom. We have to quickly shut the door before the Russell Terrier from a few days ago manages to make a grand escape. Scooter starts to hop up on me, yapping away and wagging his tail wildly from side to side.

  “This is Scooter,” Lake introduces formally. “You’ve met.”

  I bend over to scratch the dog behind the ear. “Yes, we have.”

  Lake points to a brown dog with a greying muzzle across the room. He’s casually lounging on a large dog bed. “That’s Elvis. I’m fairly certain he’s hard of hearing. Getting up there in years, so you’ll have to speak loudly if you want to get his attention. And this—” Lake gestures very slowly to a terrified Pitbull in the opposite corner, “—is Gaga. She’s my most recent rescue.”

  “Rescue?” I echo.

  “It’s kind of a sad story. Many of the dogs that come through here are either found off the streets, or rescued from puppy mills. Gaga’s previous owners had her locked up in a cage for goodness knows how long. She’s actually really sweet, but she’s also super jittery. There aren’t many people willing to foster or adopt her because they’re afraid she’ll be aggressive with them. It doesn’t exactly help that Pitbulls get a bad rep to begin with.”

  “That’s a real shame.”

  Lake nods. “It is. Scooter and Elvis have been here a long time, too.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, like I said. Elvis is getting up there in years. I don’t know a lot of people willing to adopt an old dog. And Scooter… Well, he’s super talkative. Really energetic. He ideally needs a family that has a lot of patience and maybe a big yard so that he can run around. I haven’t had much luck finding them appropriate homes that’ll take good care of them.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you have any pets?” Lake asks.

  “No, I don’t.”

  Lake eyes me with a suspiciously cheeky grin. She bats her eyelashes at me, and I’m fairly certain she’s doing it on purpose. “Do you want pets?” she asks, coy. “You said you wanted to come see the dogs. Why not take one home today?”

  “I’m never around,” I counter.

  “You really don’t have any one at home? Not even a wife or girlfriend?”

  “No,” I answer slowly, thoroughly amused. If this is Lake’s way of asking if I’m taken, she’s incredibly discreet about it. “No wife or girlfriend. Although, I do have a house manager who’s there all day.”

  “See? That’s perfect!”

  “I don’t know…”

  Scooter sits directly in front of me, tilts his head to the side and whines. He stares up at me with his big eyes, tail wagging while his tongue pokes out adorably from the corner of his mouth. If I didn’t know any better, I could swear the dog is doing this on purpose. Lake joins the effort, looking up at me with hope written all over her face.

  I can’t say no.

  “I don’t know the last thing about taking care of a dog,” I try to argue.

  “I can teach you.”

  “I don’t have any supplies,” I try again.

  “We can go shopping for everything you’ll need.”

  “We?”

  Lake’s cheeks flush a light pink. “I mean. If you want.”

  “All right,” I answer. “You better not bail on me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. I have to go back to work right now, but I can come back and pick you up later tonight. When are you off?”

  “The shelter closes at six, but I stick around for another hour to clean up. Let’s say seven?”

  “Sure. Seven it is.”

  “Great. I’ll give Scooter another bath in the meantime.”

  “Much appreciated. I’ll… I’ll see you later, then.”

  Lakes grins. “See you later.”

  I turn on my heel and walk away, feeling lighter than I have in a very long time. I do my best to temper my expectations. This isn’t a date. This is the furthest thing from it. Lake is simply helping me purchase the things I’ll need to take care of a dog. A dog that I somehow got roped into caring for.

  I glance at my watch.

  Seven can’t come fast enough.

  5

  LAKE

  “Um, excuse me?” Maeve says dramatically. The shelter is now closed and we’re in the back patting Scooter dry. His bath was not without a great deal of splashing, but at least he’s clean. “Who was that yummy man and why have you been keeping him from me?”

  “I haven’t been keeping him from you,” I insist. “And please, never use the word ‘yummy’ to describe someone ever again.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “It’s cringey,” I correct. “He’s a person, not a piece of meat.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  Maeve combs her fingers through her hair. “I feel like I’ve seen him before. What’s his name again?”

  “Asher Chase.”

  Maeve’s jaw may as well have unhinged given how her mouth drops open completely. “The Asher Chase?”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  “My dance audition the other day was at The Grandiose, Lake. He could end up being my boss’s boss.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

  “I can’t believe your luck.” She pulls out her phone and opens up Instagram. She searches Asher’s name and comes up with only a few hits. “He doesn’t use social media, but his friends do. Look, see? Here he is with King.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  Maeve sighs, exasperated. “King. The rock star.”

  I shrug. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Oh, here he is at some fancy party with Jeff Cezos. And here he is on a yacht, Oh, wow. Check out his car.”

  “We should really get
back to work—

  “The dude must be loaded,” she continues, starting to ramble. “How much did you say he donated again?”

  “Ten thousand,” I recite, head still spinning from Asher’s generosity. “It’s definitely going to help keep the shelter running, but we still have a lot of dogs to take care of.”

  Maeve frowns at me. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on right now? Are you blind, or are did you seriously not see how cute the guy is? And holy shit his voice.”

  “I need you to calm down, Maeve. You’re starting to weird me out.”

  She puts her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you don’t see what I see.”

  “See what?”

  “That he’s totally into you.”

  I snort out a laugh. “You’re hilarious,” I say dryly.

  “Are you kidding? The guy came all the way to the rough part of town, asked for you by name, gave you a massive donation, and adopted a dog. I don’t think I can spell it out any clearer.”

  “He’s just a nice guy. There’s no way he could be interested in me.”

  “Why not? You’re an absolute catch.”

  I reach over and take Maeve’s phone, turning the screen so that she can take a good, hard look at all the images that she just showed me. “I don’t know if you noticed, but a guy like this is probably used to dating models or actresses or billionaire heiresses.”

  “And I don’t know if you noticed, but there isn’t a single woman in any of those pictures with him. Maybe they’re not his type.”

  I give her the phone back. As much as I hate to say it, Maeve has a point. Maybe it’s true. It’s not right of me to assume Asher’s preferences. Either way, though, I’m too busy with the shelter to even think about having time for a man. I have too much to take care of already.

  “We’re just… acquaintances,” I say, though I know I don’t sound convincing in the slightest.