Happily Ever After: A Romance Collection

by Amelia Wilde

  After the mental pep talk, I head back into the bedroom.

  Cole is on his back with both arms behind his head. The sheet is drawn up over him, but it’s resting a few inches lower than his navel, covering all the best parts from my viewing pleasure.

  “Is this the part where reality intrudes on our happy bubble?” he asks.

  I exhale and join him under the covers. “That was Tahlia.”

  “I made that much out from what I was able to eavesdrop.”

  I smile then arrange myself beside him and prop myself up on my elbow. “She just arrived back in town.”

  He nods but doesn’t speak. I get the feeling that he’s letting me take the lead.

  “I don’t think we should say anything about what happened between us.” I glance down to where I’m fiddling with his crisp, white sheets, unsure whether he’s going to be offended or not.

  “What’s happening.”

  I raise my head and give him a questioning look.

  “You said ‘what happened’ as if it was a one-time thing. Past tense. You should have said ‘what’s happening’ because there’s no way we aren’t doing that again.”

  His words send a thrill through me—both physical and emotional. “Oh, really?” I tease.

  “Count on it.” He lifts his far hand out from under his head and trails a fingertip down the column of my neck and across to my shoulder blade. My nipples tighten in response underneath the sheet, something he doesn’t miss.

  “So you’re in agreement? We won’t tell them? This is probably something we should’ve talked about before, but…”

  “You are too damn edible.” He waggles his eyebrows and I laugh. “Anyway, sure. If you want to keep this between us I’m game.”

  “Thanks.” And I mean it. Both for myself, because I’m a chickenshit and don’t want to tell my friend that I’m sleeping with her almost-brother-in-law, and for Tahlia, who doesn’t need any more stress in her life right now.

  “Was she happy with our efforts?” He shifts to face me, mimicking my position with his head propped up on his hand.

  “She seemed to be. Sounds as if she’s liking the look of the Bentley Reserve.”

  “That place was pretty cool.” He pauses for a moment like he’s remembering something and smiles to himself. The twelve-year-old girl inside me is hoping it’s when I walked down the stairs and we shared a moment. “How come Tahlia was gone so long? Hard time pulling the sausage out?”

  I laugh. “She didn’t say exactly. Just mentioned that it took longer than she thought to figure it all out.”

  “I’m disappointed in Chase. You’d think he’d teach his woman how to massage meat.” He smirks and I giggle like a schoolgirl that hasn’t heard every sausage joke. “Speaking of sausages”—here comes another cheesy joke—“there’s one in particular I’d like to show you.” Cole wraps his arm around me and rolls over so his weight is pressed along my entire body while he hovers above me. And what delicious weight it is. The thin sheet is doing nothing to hide his own large… sausage.

  Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

  I laugh as he purposely digs his erection into my thigh.

  “Chase must have been lonely with Tahlia out of town this long. Have you seen him much?” I ask in an effort to keep this conversation from devolving into double entendres.

  “No, he’s been hard to get a hold of.” Something dark passes over his face, but it’s gone before I can question it.

  “That’s what Tahl said. She had to let me go because she was trying to track him down.” I chuckle but Cole’s lips remain tightly closed.

  “Enough about those two. I’m much more interested in reacquainting you to my own grade-A sausage.”

  Without another word he leans in and kisses me, leaving all those warning signs that I should have paid attention to in my rearview mirror. All I see ahead of me is me, Cole and our hot naked skin grinding against each other.

  You see, folks, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. It also has an outpost right here in San Francisco.

  25

  A couple of weeks pass and autumn takes a firmer grip on the Bay area. I pull the zipper of my coat all the way up to my chin to stay warm as I stroll with Cole through Golden Gate Park.

  Sparky’s here, too. It’s hard to forget him what with the constant pulling on the leash and yipping at every bird that dares to get within one hundred yards of us.

  “Good news,” Cole says and squeezes the hand I have interlocked with his. “I was finally able to secure an appointment with that distributor.”

  “No way!” Sparky picks up on my excitement and turns to face us on the path and barks. “That’s awesome. When is it?”

  “Not for a couple of weeks, but I’m excited. I think this could be my big break.”

  Pride fills my chest. Cole has been working so hard to make this happen. He’s kept me apprised of all his efforts while I’ve been over at his place almost every night.

  “Soon Rock Hard Whiskey will be in every bar from here to New York.” I grin, unable to contain my excitement.

  “Here’s hoping.” He exhales a big breath and I notice his nervousness for the first time. I’ve never seen his usual confidence wane, but it’s a cute look for him.

  I squeeze his hand and we begin walking again. “It will all work out.”

  We walk in contented silence for another minute when Sparky veers off the path to the grass and assumes the position. You know the one—the one that tells you to get your little plastic baggy ready.

  “This is the worst part of having a dog by far. Even more annoying than the fact that he ruined another pair of my shoes last week.”

  Cole chuckles and we both stop and wait for the little fur ball to do his business.

  My phone rings from inside my cross-body bag. I drop Cole’s hand and pass him the leash. “Do you mind?”

  He takes it while I search for my phone. I come upon the plastic baggy first so I pass it to Cole with a pleading expression. He takes it, reluctantly.

  “You’re going to owe me one,” he teases.

  I blink my eyelids fast in a girly fashion and he shakes his head. Finally, I find my phone and hit the green button and bring it up to my ear.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Hi, is this Whitney Knight?” I’m not sure who it is but the woman has a professional tone that tells me this isn’t a telemarketer call.

  “This is she.”

  “Hi, Whitney, this is Marla from Human Resources at WHFI.”

  I turn away from Cole and Sparky and begin pacing in a small circle on the path. “Hi, Marla.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m calling to let you know that the producers and Mr. Jeffries have made a decision about the job you applied for and have decided to offer the position to a different candidate.”

  Disappointment, heavy and swift, finds a home inside me and I stop pacing. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Rest assured we’ll keep your résumé on file should anything else come up.” It’s clear from her tone that she’s made a thousand of these calls in her lifetime. Everyone knows that ‘keeping your résumé on file’ means that it goes to die in some forgotten box in an office no one uses anymore.

  “Thank you for calling,” I say, not really meaning it.

  “My pleasure. You have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  She hangs up on her end and I let my hand drop from my ear.

  My back is to Cole and I don’t want to turn around. I know there’s no way I’ll ever be able to hide the disappointment and desperation I feel.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

  I suck in a deep breath through my nose and turn to face him, blinking back the tears in my eyes. “That was the lady from the TV station. I didn’t get the job.”

  He steps forward and pulls me into his chest. We wrap our arms around each other and he squeezes me tight. “I’m so sorry, Whit. Something will come a
long. You’re beautiful and intelligent. It’s going to happen.”

  I bury my face in his chest and allow myself to enjoy the feel of his strong body, the scent of his cologne, and his words of comfort.

  I’m not accustomed to letting anyone support me and I realize that as much as I don’t want to, as much as I want to be the girl who doesn’t need anyone, this feels nice and safe and… right.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all work out.” He runs his hand up and down my back.

  “Thanks,” I say in a quiet voice, not sure I believe him.

  After another minute of shellacking myself to his chest, I pull away. Cole frames my face with his hands. “I want to take you out on a proper date.”

  As much as I love the sound of that, I have my concerns. Since we became whatever we are, we’ve mostly just hung out at Cole’s place because I don’t want to chance running into anyone we know. The only reason we’re able to hang out here in the park is because neither Cole’s brother or my best friend are exactly the outdoorsy types.

  “I know what you’re thinking and don’t worry.” He brushes a hand over my hair. “I’m not going to take you anywhere Chase and Tahlia would ever dare to go.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Cole. I’ll be fine.” After a few pints of Ben & Jerry’s buried in a bottle of wine.

  “I know I don’t have to, I want to.”

  As depressed as I am, I wouldn’t mind some wooing right now. “Okay then.”

  He leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. Sparky barks and begins tugging on his leash again. That dog has no appreciation for public displays of affection.

  “All right, little guy. Cool your jets.”

  We continue through the park, hand in hand, and though the disappointment of not getting the job eats away at me, the pain is tempered, at least in part, by the company I keep.

  From the moment we arrived down at the Pier, Cole made me promise to keep my eyes closed and led me by hand to our destination. The sound of people wandering past filters into my ears as I stand here, positioned just so by Cole, his hands covering my eyes from behind me.

  “Promise you won’t laugh,” Cole says as he slides his hands away from my eyes.

  I blink for a second, adjusting my eyesight to the scene before me.

  “A maze of mirrors…” I smile slowly.

  “I thought you could use some fun to get your mind off everything.”

  The job. He means the job, because besides Cole himself that’s the only thing I’ve been able to focus on these past few days—the fact that I let the job of my dreams somehow slip through my hands.

  “I never would have guessed this.”

  “That was the point.” He leans down and kisses me before taking my hand to lead me inside the building.

  Loud music is playing inside, some newer song I’ve heard on the radio a few times. The carpet on the floor has a crazy pattern made up of black, blue, red, and yellow and a fresh-faced teenage girl stands behind the counter smiling over at us.

  “Welcome to the Maze of Mirrors,” she says and we make our way over to her.

  “Hi there. I’m Cole Webber.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Webber. We’ve been expecting you.” The way she smiles at Cole all dreamy-eyed tells me he’ll be a focal point of her diary entry tonight. I stifle a chuckle so as not to embarrass her.

  “I should already be paid up. I took care of everything over the phone with the manager.”

  “You are. The place is all yours.”

  I give Cole a questioning look.

  “I may not be my brother, but I know when to use my money and influence for good,” he says and leans in closer to my ear so that only I can hear him over the music pumping out of the overhead speakers. “And if it means using it to rent this place out to ourselves so that I can get you alone instead of being surrounded by a hundred shithead teenagers, I’m gonna do it.”

  He pulls back and my heated stare meets his. We each take in the promise of what it is we’d like to be doing to the other one right now.

  “The lockers are to your right if you’d like to put your jackets in there, Mr. Webber.”

  We both turn our attention to the young girl and a giggle escapes my lips at how she keeps calling him Mr. Webber. I’m not sure why I find it so funny, but it just doesn’t suit the man I’ve come to know.

  He helps me off with my coat and puts both of ours in the rented locker and comes to stand beside me, taking my hand in his. This small gesture fills me with a warmth and security that I don’t want to examine too much.

  “What’s the fastest anyone has ever made it out of the maze?” Cole asks.

  “Twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds,” she says. Her chin is nudged up a bit and her chest is puffed out as if she’s very proud that she knows this information.

  “Shall we see if we can beat that?” Cole asks with a grin.

  “Definitely.”

  He begins to direct me toward the door that says ‘Entry’ above it and the young girl calls out behind us, “Have fun, Mr. Webber.”

  I full-on laugh this time as we push through the swinging doors. On the other side the music is just as loud but it’s much darker and strobe lights flicker every so often. There’s what appears to be thousands of arched columns ahead with mirrors between them and reflections of us from all different angles appear in all the glass.

  “What are you laughing at?” Cole asks over the music.

  “At that smitten kitten out there calling you Mr. Webber.”

  He pulls me into him and I immediately heat at the feeling of his hard body pressed into my soft curves.

  “It’s my name, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “But somehow it doesn’t really fit. I’ve heard people call your brother Mr. Webber before and thought nothing of it, but it seems almost comical to hear someone refer to you that way.”

  Cole tilts his head a bit, and places his thumb on my bottom lip. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “Good.” I push up on my tippy toes and place a kiss on his lips. “It was meant as one.”

  He grins. “As long as we’re clear.”

  “Are we going to conquer this bad boy? We’d better get going if we’re going to beat the record.”

  Almost reluctantly he pulls away, takes my hand once again, and we head into the insanity to see if we can navigate our way out.

  We don’t hold hands for long. You need both of your hands out in front of you, as Cole discovers when he walks head first into what we thought was empty space between columns, but is really a mirror.

  The maze is so disorienting. It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s not and it’s near impossible to keep track of which way you’ve come and which direction you’re heading. It reminds me a lot of my life lately.

  Everywhere you look there appears to be more than one of us. We can see ourselves from so many different angles and I’ve been taking full advantage—watching on as Cole’s expressions change, the way the muscles in his arms bunch and flex under the fabric of his thin, maroon Henley shirt, how his ass moves when he takes a step forward. Being able to see all that multiple times from multiple angles without him knowing has been amazing.

  In fact, it’s got me wanting to do things that seem more up Lennon’s alley, but something about this man makes me lose my inhibitions and throw aside the part of me intent on self-preservation.

  “Another dead end.” Cole laughs.

  Instead of turning back and heading the way we came, I don’t move when Cole turns around from the sheet of glass in front of him to face me. Rather, this time I nudge his shoulders until his back is pressed up against the glass.

  His expression looks bemused until he registers the heat in my gaze. Without a word, I circle his neck with my arms and drag his face down to mine.

  Our tongues meet in a passion-filled clash of primal instinct, and after a minute it feels as if my lips are bruised. Not in a painful way, but in a way t
hat assures I’ll be reliving this moment for days.

  I snake my hand down Cole’s body until I’m gripping his hard length pressing through his jeans. He groans into my mouth and my knees weaken. I close our kiss, knowing if I don’t stop, I’ll miss my opportunity, and then I drop to my knees in front of him.

  I tilt my head up and look at him through my lashes. His chest is heavy with his efforts at breathing. “What are you doing?” He’s loud enough so I can hear him over the music.

  I raise a brow. “Exactly what you’re hoping I’m doing.”

  My eyes never veer away from him as I undo his belt buckle, the button on his jeans, and then pull the zipper down. His large cock is straining the cotton of his white boxer briefs. When I pull the elastic down a bit his cock springs free and I arrange his underwear so it sits tucked under his balls.

  Since I first saw his cock I’ve wondered what Cole tasted like. I’ve imagined the way his hands would thread into my hair when I sealed my lips around the head. How he’d moan when he breached the back of my throat.

  I’m about to rock his world and cement myself in his memory for an eternity. Sometimes it pays to have a friend like Lennon—you inevitably learn some skills just by listening to her absurd stories.

  I lick my lips as I lean forward. My tongue traces lightly across his mushroom tip where a bead of pre-cum awaits. He sucks in a breath and holds it in for a moment, but once my tongue is back in my mouth, a slow stream of air flows out of his mouth.

  Leaning in again, this time I run my tongue from the base of his length all the way to the top and back down the other side. Cole pushes his hands into my hair, and I raise my gaze to meet his. It’s dark in here, but I can still see that his hazel eyes are heavy-lidded with lust, and his mouth hangs open.

  I continue licking him all over again and again until his entire cock is wet with my saliva. I grip the bottom of his shaft with one hand and then lower my mouth to suck one of his balls in past my lips. Cole’s hands twitch in my hair and grip the strands harder. Moans float out of his mouth while I suck gently and stroke up and down his length, twisting my hand near the top. His head thumps against the mirror behind him and he squeezes his eyes shut. His chest is rising and falling in an erratic rhythm and I’ve never been as high as I am right now from being the one who is unraveling him.