Happily Ever After: A Romance Collection

by Amelia Wilde

“Well, hey, that’s a little—”

  The pressure in my skull popped. I dropped my bag to the snow, turned, and grabbed him by the neck of his fancy-ass coat. With my face real close to his, I whispered, “The only reason you’re alive right now is because Christa wouldn’t let me beat your face in. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing but a sub-human piece of excrement. If she’d let me, I’d break every bone in your body.” I dropped him to the ground, but kept my hold for a few beats longer. “But she gets to choose because she’s the one you hurt with your fuckhead actions. So, be glad you’re alive and not just a puddle of meat and blood in the snow.” I let him go, turned to the truck, and opened up the tailgate. “You’re riding in back.”

  When he made as if to argue, I threw him one of the blankets from my bag and opened the front passenger door for Christa and the girls. We settled in and I backed out of the open barn and made my slow way down my drive.

  After a few minutes, Christa turned to me. “I don’t even want to look.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t believe you made him ride in back.”

  “He was lucky I parked in the barn. Otherwise, he’d be ass-deep in snow right now.”

  When she didn’t respond, I glanced at her. She turned quickly to look out the window, her shoulders, even under the layers of sweaters I’d made her wear, were high.

  Shit. Had I upset her? Did I do something wrong?

  We rode down the mountain in silence, except for the occasional rattle of a collar when one of the girls shifted. Christa spent the entire trip looking out the window, her hand buried in first Brownie’s fur and then Bear’s. I wished she’d put it in my lap, instead. I wished she’d look my way.

  The trip took twice as long as usual, even once we hit the bigger road. “He okay back there?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Alive.”

  “Hell. Maybe I should drive faster.”

  Her smile dropped the second the city limits appeared in view. Right beyond the sign was a grocery store and a chain motel. A perfect place to drop the asshole off. I pulled over, put the truck in park and walked around to open up the tailgate.

  He slid to the ground and glared at me, muttered some shit about uneducated freaks, and stomped off.

  I didn’t care. Though if he’d insulted her, he’d be on the ground right now.

  It took a few deep breaths and got back in the truck.

  “Where to, Christa?”

  CHRISTA

  Through the fogged up window, I blinked at the passing houses and their bright Christmas lights, wishing I knew what to say to make this last.

  Not much for relationships. His sentence kept going through my mind, the way it had all the way from the top of the mountain. And now that I knew him a little better, I could understand. The man had his ways, a life he’d set up exactly how he needed it. In order to survive, after the horrible things he’d lived through. While at war, for God’s sake.

  So, no I didn’t understand. I couldn’t possibly.

  “Left here,” I said, swallowing back the words I really wanted to say. Turn back. I want to stay with you.

  So, he didn’t do relationships.

  But this didn’t feel like that at all. Relationship was such a silly word. Relate. Relating to each other seemed like much too small a thing when this felt like…everything.

  Belongingship. Knowingship. Ha!

  I almost laughed. Holy shit, the drama going on in my head right now.

  Maybe I’d take something less than a relationship from him. Maybe I’d accept whatever he wanted to give me.

  “It’s up here, on the right. You can pull into the drive.” Since we don’t have a car anymore.

  Oh, God. I pressed my fingers to my eyeballs. I’d deal with that later.

  I took in a breath and watched Granny’s house, wishing this didn’t feel so wrong.

  “You come inside?”

  “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  I nodded, tightened my hand in Brownie’s fur and then Bear’s. I’d miss these two. Which was ridiculous, after less than two days. Then again, it was nothing compared to how much I’d miss him.

  I opened the door and slid out, then started up the front walk, which somebody had shoveled. Hm. Interesting. Had she paid someone? On Christmas Day? That was impressive.

  Slowly, and not just because of the massive shoes on my feet, I went up the steps and put my hand on the doorknob. He caught up to me and, for a few seconds, I just stared at him. Kiss me. Stay with me. Don’t go back home tonight. Or, if you do, take me with you.

  What was it about this man that made me want him so badly?

  The feeling was so high and tight in my chest that, rather than look at him another second—and risk letting it all pour out—I turned the knob, stepped inside and—

  “Oh, my God.”

  I froze for a good five seconds, barely comprehending what I was seeing. It wasn’t until Micah’s hand landed on my shoulder and tugged me back out that I snapped out of it. I slammed the door shut.

  “Guess Granny’s doing just fine without you.”

  I forced my eyes back open. “I want to wash my brain.”

  From inside came the sound of scuffling. Granny and Gus struggling to get their clothes back on, no doubt. Holy shit. I needed a drink or something. Right now.

  “Christa? Oh, God. I’m so sorry honey.” Gran yelled loud enough to be heard through the door. When it didn’t immediately open, I leaned in.

  “Everybody okay in there?”

  “Yep. Just grand.” Gran laughed. “I’m…I’m not ready to open the door and see that look on you face again.”

  Micah grabbed my hand and squeezed it. His face was bright red with suppressed laughter.

  I squeezed him back and smiled. Okay. So, my grandmother was making out with a man on her sofa. This wasn’t a bad thing. I was only sorry that I had to see it. Well, that and that I’d almost lost my life to a heart attack.

  I thumped my chest, wondering if I’d ever breathe normally again.

  “Gonna open the door now.”

  “That’s a good idea.” I stepped back, assuming Micah would let go of my hand. He didn’t.

  Gran looked remarkably put together, considering the parts of her body that had been exposed just minutes before. Behind her, Gus, new neighbor and, apparently more than friend, stood looking stiff and formal. They were both bright red in the face, which I couldn’t entirely assume was due to embarrassment, given how acrobatic their movements had been. Oh, God.

  I closed my eyes and opened them again with a forced smile.

  “I’m ah…sorry to bust in on you guys.”

  “No. Nope.” Gran backed into the room, opened the door wider to invite us in. “We’re not talking about it. Didn’t happen.”

  “Good plan,” Micah said.

  “Are you Micah?” Gran’s eyes looked from his face to mine, down to our joined hands and back up again.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  All the tension and strained humor in the atmosphere morphed in a flash when Gran stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Micah, and burst into tears.

  Oh. Oh.

  He stood awkwardly for a few seconds before hugging her back.

  “Thank you for saving my grandbaby’s life, Micah. Thank you.”

  When she finally pulled away, Gus the neighbor, whose last name I didn’t know, but who’d been intimate as hell with my grandma, shook Micah's hand.

  “Thank you, son. Thank you.”

  Jesus. What a roller coaster.

  “Come in,” said Gran. “All the heat’s leaving and—”

  “Oh, I gotta—” Micah couldn’t get more than a few words past my grandmother.

  “No. No, you come in and have a drink or a cocoa or—”

  “Dogs are in the truck. Better get going. Bye.”

  “You sure, son?” Gus narrowed his eyes at Micah, looking

  I nodded and forced a smile. “Yeah. Okay.
”

  “It’s ah…been…” He turned to Gran. “Really nice meeting you, ma’am. Sir.” He cleared his throat a couple times, without looking my way, and took off.

  I opened my mouth to say something, to ask him to stay, maybe, to tell him…something.

  But he didn’t want this. Or me.

  Leaving without a goodbye proved it. He’d go back to his house, to his simple life and I’d go back to…

  I shut my eyes against the painful prick of tears, and swallowed.

  No strings. No relationships. He’d told me that. And I’d been okay with it, then. Before.

  It didn’t feel so good right now. It felt like a loss, and I’d had enough of those to recognize the sensation.

  Then again, how could I lose something I’d never had?

  28

  Micah

  I knocked, which felt like a weird thing to do, since I’d grown up here.

  Cindy yanked open the door. The inside smelled like Christmas. Like home.

  “Oh my God, Mom! Mooooom!” Cindy screamed like she did when she was a kid. “It’s Micah!”

  “What? What?” Mom sounded just as crazed. She hurried from the kitchen and stopped at the end of the hall, breathless.

  After that was mayhem. Kids came out of the woodwork. There was Christmas shit everywhere—streamers and lights, people in ridiculous sweaters.

  Everybody piled on to me with hugs and kisses and questions. My brothers-in-law, dudes I barely knew, patted me on the back. Someone shoved a cold beer into my hand. I wanted to press it to my forehead.

  A screechy carol blasted in the living room. Somebody’d better turn it down before I—

  Brownie bumped my leg and I reached for her. Bear ate up the attention from my nieces and nephews, but Brownie’d never been one for crowds. I dug my fingers into her fur and rubbed, not sure who I was trying to calm.

  “D’you get the gifts? Amber made the…”

  “Did someone save a piece of cake? There’s…”

  “Hey! Turn off the…”

  “Damn, bro, you’re hairier every time I…”

  I couldn’t breathe, with all the heat and noise, but there was something comforting, too. They all accepted my presence. Like they’d known I’d make it back, eventually.

  Shit. I couldn’t take this. All the noise, noise, noise, noise, noise.

  I pressed my fingers to my eyeballs and jolted when a hand landed on my arm.

  “Come here.” Dad tilted his head toward the back of his house and led the way, his shoulders more stooped than I remembered, walking slower. Jesus, when was the last time I saw him? A couple months ago? I racked my brain and then remembered. Drew’s birthday. Spring. Had I really avoided my family since then?

  Probably.

  “Sit down.” Dad liked playing the big man, ordering me around a bit. I didn’t mind. It was his place, his family. He was a good father. Wanted us happy.

  I sat in his big, beat-up armchair and watched him pour some liquor into a couple glasses. He handed me one and clinked his against it before settling into the chair opposite mine. His office was off-limits to the kids.

  Brownie’s tail thumped on the carpet when Dad bent to give her a quick rub.

  “What brings you here today, son?”

  I opened my mouth to say something about Christmas, but it wasn’t the answer I needed to give.

  “Met a woman.”

  He nodded slowly, sipping his drink and looking like he knew shit I’d never understand.

  “Where is she?”

  “At her grandmother’s.”

  “And you’re here.”

  I opened my mouth and shut it. Took a big swig of the smokybooze, enjoyed the burn in my belly. “I freaked out. Left.”

  “That good huh?”

  “Her?” He smiled. “She’s amazing.”

  “Why aren’t you with her, then?”

  “Only met her two days ago.” That didn’t seem right. Sounded almost like a lie, after what we’d had or done or shared.

  His brows rose. “You giving her space or something?”

  “Hell if I know.” I leaned forward. “That story you always tell about you and Mom. How you knew the night you met her. Is it true?”

  Dad leaned back in his chair and grinned up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Had a girlfriend at the time, too.”

  “No shit.”

  He nodded once. “Jeanette or Jean or something. Didn’t matter. Met your mother. The real deal. Called the girlfriend the next morning to break it off. Felt like cheating just knowing that your mom existed.” He leveled me with his hard, bad-ass dad stare. “What’s this woman’s name?”

  “Christa. Evans. She’s a um… She looks like the woman in those Australian murder mysteries mom loves so much.”

  “Ha!” Had shouted out a laugh. “Miss Fisher?”

  “Yeah. Kind of acts like her, too. Not embarrassed to be…herself.” My chest hurt. “Walked in on her grandmother making out with an old guy.”

  “And you left her alone with them?”

  I stood, slugged the drink back and set it on Dad’s desk.

  “You’re right. I’d better go.”

  “Sneak out the back. I’ll explain to your mother.” Dad rose slowly and put his hand on my shoulder. It was smaller than I remembered. “But don’t wait six months before coming next time. And bring Christa.”

  29

  Christa

  Someone pounded at the door and I almost dropped the plate I was drying. I put it down, carefully. It was him. It had to be. Who else could it be?

  And, because I had absolutely no pride when it came to Micah Graham, I ran to the door and threw it open.

  “You’re ba—”

  I was dangling from his arms before I could finish the sentence, his lips hot on mine. He devoured me like he’d never get another chance. Like this was it.

  And this was it. It was.

  At some point, he pulled away, probably to breathe or something, and let me slide to my feet, keeping me warm in his embrace.

  “Couldn’t stay away.” The words were hot puffs on my mouth. “Don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want you to, either, Micah.”

  “Good. Good.” He nodded, and I noticed how cold the tip of his nose was against my cheek.

  “Come inside.” I turned, paused and looked at him over my shoulder. “Stay the night.”

  “It’s your gran’s.”

  “Oh, don’t mind us,” Gran called, emerging from the hall. “We’ll give you some privacy.”

  I flushed red as a beet at the sly expression on Gran’s face. It took a few seconds to realize that she and Gus were suiting up to go outside.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “We’re leaving you the house. End of discussion.”

  “Okay, Gran.”

  “And your dogs are welcome to stay, too, Micah. Too cold for them out there.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Alice,” she corrected before wishing us a happy Christmas and taking off on Gus’s arm.

  It was awkward in the silence of this house that wasn’t even mine, with this man who’d come back for me, this man I’d only just met. Needing to move, I turned to the sofa.

  “So, you want a drink or—”

  “No.” He cradled my face in his hands and leaned down. “I want to go to bed with you. Now. I want to sleep and wake up and hold you in the morning.”

  The kiss he gave me felt like so much more than just a touch. He was pouring things into me, telling me things he had a hard time communicating in words.

  “I want that.”

  “For longer than tonight.” He glanced at the door. “Tomorrow. And the next day.”

  “I thought you didn’t do relationships.” The last word came out breathless, as inconsequential as air.

  “Thought so, too.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “You.” He rubbed his nose to mine, gently, slowly.

&n
bsp; “We barely know each other.” Strangely, this didn’t feel true, but I had to say it.

  “I know you.” A long, slow slide of his rough cheek against mine. “I know you, Christa Evans.”

  “How’d this happen?” I whispered.

  Was I obsessed because he’d saved my life? It didn’t feel like that.

  And at the same time, so what if that was how this had started?

  Lifelong friendships could be built on a person saving another’s life, right? I’d heard stories about that. Why couldn’t love come the same way? Would it mean more if we’d met at a dinner party or a bar?

  Hell, no.

  “Don’t know how it happened. I’m not gonna question it. Don’t want to be the loner on the mountain anymore, avoiding life. The people I love. Besides…” he leaned in close “…couldn’t leave you with two eighty-year-olds making out like teenagers on the sofa.”

  I shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Guy must have moves, though, getting it on with the hot granny on Christmas Day.”

  “I guess.”

  “I want that when I’m eighty. But I’m a lucky bastard.” He kissed me again, slow and wet and deep. By the end, he had to hold me up. “’Cause I already found the woman to do it with.”

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  BLACK EDGE

  Charlotte Byrd

  Black Edge

  Charlotte Byrd

  I don’t belong here.

  I’m in way over my head. But I have debts to pay.

  They call my name. The spotlight is on. The auction starts.