The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  The feeling scared her more than anything. She had never felt this way about anyone before, and though it felt exhilarating, it also made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.

  “I know that look,” Nonna whispered, snapping Victorine back.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The way he’s looking at you,” she said, shifting her attention to her grandson and Victorine followed her gaze. “That’s the same way my Charles used to look at me.”

  Victorine sucked in a breath, hoping the tightness in her chest was from the navy cocktail dress she’d borrowed from Lindzee, and not from the way Charles was looking at her. He finally broke his gaze when the bride appeared and started walking down the aisle, but it did little to help Victorine breathe again.

  After the vows, the couple kissed and applause erupted in the backyard. The setting sun bathed the sky a dark orange, and the groom took the bride by her hand. They disappeared into the woods with the photographer to take their wedding photos. In the meantime, the town’s women began to bring out the food and drinks while everyone sat at their designated tables.

  “You look stunning,” Charles whispered as he touched the small of Victorine’s back. His touch sent electricity up her spine, and she shivered.

  “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” she replied, blushing. “Though, I didn’t peg you for a bowtie kind of guy.”

  He smiled. “Whatever the bride wants.” He led her to one of the tables, and they took a seat across from his grandmother.

  “How did you two meet, anyway?” Nonna asked as soon as they sat down. “Tell us everything.”

  “Well…” Charles glanced at Victorine, wondering how she would’ve liked to answer that question, but when she didn’t offer him any help, he looked around the table. “We live in the same building, and one night she almost got electrocuted trying to play electrician.”

  Victorine looked at him, interested in why he picked that moment out of all other brief encounters they’d had before that. “Hey, I got the power back on, didn’t I?” She nudged him playfully, and he grabbed her hand. When he didn’t let go, she was surprised by how naturally they fit together.

  “What about your parents?” Nonna asked. “Are they in New York, too?”

  “No,” Victorine replied, looking away from Charles. “But my sisters are. And it’s been nice living close to them again.”

  “How many sisters do you have?”

  “Four.”

  “No boys, huh?” Nonna’s date chimed in. “I feel bad for your old man.”

  Victorine’s father didn’t live long enough to be an old man. Neither did her mother. They died in a plane crash when she was only five, but she wasn’t about to share that with a bunch of people she didn’t know.

  “Oh my heck, you’re not gonna believe this!” Lindzee came from behind them and crouched between Victorine and Charles with the widest grin. “I just got off the phone with Mark. They accepted my pitch for the clinical trial. Now they want to hear the whole presentation!”

  “What clinical trial?” Charles asked.

  “The one Victorine suggested; to find a better treatment, or even a cure, for Gama Astroplexia,” Lindzee replied with a squeal. “I can’t believe this is really happening!”

  “Congratulations,” Victorine said, but Lindzee shook her head and grabbed Victorine’s hand.

  “Thank you for the idea. My interns have already been gathering information on everything they can get their hands on. I will let you know what happens. And if it’s approved, who knows…” She pulled back with a pleased smile. “Maybe you can come shadow me for a few days. Perhaps some research for your next book?” Lindzee winked as she stood, and Victorine chuckled.

  Once Lindzee walked away, Charles stood. “Would you come dance with me?” he asked, offering Victorine a hand.

  They hadn’t even had dinner yet, but… “Okay.”

  As he led her to the center of the dance floor, a slow song started to play, and he pulled her close. Though her body molded perfectly to his, something was off. He was holding her hand in a firm grip.

  “Is everything okay?” she whispered, pulling back just enough to see his face. His jaw was tight.

  “Why are you filling my sister’s head with things you know nothing about?” His voice was sharp, and Victorine pulled back even more.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Gama Astroplexia?” Charles replied. “Do you have any idea how complex that blood disease is? And I don’t mean whatever you read on Google.” Victorine felt a stab in her chest as his expression turned even more serious. “Writing books about stuff like that must be really fun for you, but treating kids with that disease is not fiction. So, if you want to use me for your research, go ahead, but my sister is off-limits.”

  Victorine swallowed the knot in her throat and stepped back. “I’m sorry I got entangled with your family. It won’t happen again.” She walked away with her chest so tight, she could hardly breathe. But maybe it was for the best.

  After all, ending sooner rather than later was always for the best.

  The moon was bright in the night sky, bathing the dark lake in a silvery glow.

  “Are you serious?” Michelle asked over the phone, and Victorine smiled as her bare feet dangled over the edge of the pier. It wasn’t often that Michelle got good news—especially regarding Ari’s treatments—so it felt good to tell her about the clinical trial.

  “Nothing has been approved yet, but she would like to take a look at Ari’s file. All of her tests and treatments and medications since she was born.”

  “Sure, I’ll get on that right away,” Michelle said, her spirits slightly lifted. “Thank you so much, Vicky. The universe has really been looking out for her. I heard today that someone has been anonymously paying for her stay here at the clinic.”

  Victorine thought about telling Michelle that she was the one who had been paying for those bills, but she was worried Michelle would want to either pay her back or stop her from helping. “Ari deserves that and more,” Victorine said.

  “Yes, she does.”

  “Is she awake?” Victorine asked.

  “No. Today wasn’t a good day for her. But at least she’ll get to go home next week until the next set of treatments.”

  “She’s gonna be fine, you know. We’re all looking out for her.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without you girls.”

  Victorine smiled. She felt the exact same way. “I’ll come by as soon as I get back in town. Tell her I say hello.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  “Good night.”

  After Victorine hung up the phone, she stared at the reflection of the moon mirroring on the lake. But then she noticed the shadow of a man coming up behind her and screamed, staggering to her feet.

  “It’s me!” Charles threw his hands up, dropping his jacket, and she grabbed his arm as she lost her balance on the edge of the pier. She fell back, pulling him with her, and they both hit the murky water with a loud splash.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, swimming toward the shallow. “You can’t sneak up on me like that!”

  “I didn’t know you startled so easily,” he replied, and she turned around with an are-you-kidding-me expression.

  “I write thrillers, Charles!”

  “Then shouldn’t you know better than to sit alone in the dark in the woods?”

  She let out a frustrated grunt as she found her footing. When she stood, the icy November chill engulfed her wet body, making her shiver.

  “I came to apologize,” Charles said, pushing himself to his feet. “I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

  “It’s fine.” She tried to pull away, but he touched her arm, and she stopped.

  “My sister told me about your niece,” he said, drawing closer to her. “I feel like a jerk.”

  “Yeah, well, you live and you learn.” She tried to pull away again, but he stepped in front of h
er.

  “I was just worried about my sister,” he said. “A few years ago, she came to me about having suicidal thoughts. She never acted on them, and she’s gotten a lot better since then, but getting involved with a clinical trial with sick kids… I was just afraid it would be too much for her.”

  Victorine turned to meet his eyes. “I had no idea.”

  “I know.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I should’ve talked about it with you instead of jumping to conclusions. I’m sorry. And about the things I said—”

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “No, it’s not.” He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes. “When you walked away from me earlier, my chest felt so tight, it was hard to breathe.”

  She touched the back of his hand, holding his gaze. “That’s exactly why we should end things here.”

  “I’m not afraid of getting hurt.”

  “But I am.” She removed his touch from her skin and stepped back. “I’m terrified. Last time I got my heart broken, I couldn’t write for a whole year. I tried but couldn’t even come up with one coherent sentence. It was terrifying. I didn’t think I would ever be able to write again. And I didn’t feel for him half of what I’ve already been feeling for you—”

  Charles’ lips were on hers before she could take another breath. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue was as hot as his wet clothes were cold against her skin. His hands were strong as they moved down her back, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around him. She needed to stop this glorious, all-consuming madness, but then her back was against the wooden beam with his body pressed against hers, and all of her senses were set ablaze. She moaned into his lips, and he let out a low grunt so sexy, she just about came undone.

  She tore her mouth from his, gripping her unzipped dress. “Charles.” The desire in his dark eyes stole what was left of her breath. “Yeah?” Flipping heck, she loved hearing him breathless. Loved it as much as she loved the hard press of his muscles all along her body as he held her so tightly that it felt like he would never let her go.

  We need to stop, she wanted to say. But instead, she spoke the next thought that came to her mind. “I’ve never felt this with anyone.”

  He sucked in a breath as he met her eyes. “I will never hurt you,” he whispered. “You have my word.”

  They laid on the grass under a blanket of stars, and when she snuggled deeper into his arms, he threw his jacket over her then kissed the top of her head.

  “Ready to go back to the house?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not. I already told you, not until everyone is gone.” He laughed, and she slapped him flirtingly. “It’s not funny! Libby already caught me flashing in the hot tub. I don’t need everyone else seeing my broken zipper and jumping to conclusions.”

  “It got caught on the wood.”

  “Yeah, like they’ll believe that. You, mister...” She poked him on his chest. “Are ruining my reputation.”

  “Am I?” He rolled on top of her, and she suddenly forgot what she was saying. “We could just spend the night here, you know?”

  “Now, that’s tempting.” She kissed him softly, then felt his hand move up her thigh. She slapped it playfully, and he pulled back with a smirk.

  “I’m trying to seduce you,” he teased.

  “Not in this filthy grass, you won’t.”

  He laughed, rolling to his back and pulling her into his arms. “Fine, then tell me more about you.”

  She laid her head back on his chest. “What do you wanna know?”

  “At dinner, you avoided talking about your parents. Why is that?”

  She felt a numbness in her heart at the thought of her parents. “There’s not much to say. They died when I was five, and I went into the foster system. Changed homes every year—except for when I found my sisters. We stayed in the same home for two years together. But then everything changed again and we had to go our separate ways.” Her heart ached a bit with that memory. “It was soon after that I started writing.”

  “Did you miss it?” he asked. “The homes you left behind, I mean?”

  “Not really,” she confessed. “I mean, even if I did miss some of them, I’ve always been pretty good at detaching myself from things I left behind.”

  “And how did you manage that?” he asked.

  “I would just make myself believe I didn’t want it anyway,” she explained. “If I could kill those feelings, then I wouldn’t miss it. And it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

  “But you didn’t do that with your sisters?”

  “Oh, I tried…” she confessed. “But it hurt more to forget them then it did to miss them.”

  “That’s interesting,” he mumbled, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

  “What is?”

  “The timing of when you started writing,” he said. “It may explain why you kill your characters.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well…” He shrugged. “It would just be a theory, of course.”

  “Tell me.”

  He adjusted his position then looked up at the stars again. “It seems that growing up, you had to leave many lives behind. And it was painful, so the only way to move forward was to stop the pain. But the only way to stop the pain was to kill it—every thought, every feeling connected to your old life. Get rid of all of it. Then, and only then, would you allow yourself to move forward.”

  “So, what does that have to do with my sisters?” she asked, and he brushed her cheek with his finger.

  “It could be that you projected that pattern onto your books because although you didn’t want to get rid of your sisters, you still needed to get rid of something in order to keep moving forward.”

  “My characters…” Victorine mumbled in disbelief. “You really think so?”

  “Like I said, it’s just a theory,” he said.

  “What about Emily, though?” she asked, intrigued. “Do you have a theory on that?”

  “All I can think of is that you want to give Emily a happy ending, you just don’t know how.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “How to write a happy ending?”

  “How to move forward from it.”

  Victorine sat up at the sudden realization and looked toward the lake. “So… I’ve killed my characters because I needed a sense of finality in order to move on?” When Charles didn’t respond, she let out a chuckle. “And here I thought I just liked thrillers.”

  “Hey…” He sat up and brushed her cheek. “That was just a theory.”

  “But a very good one,” she said, meeting his eyes. “And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”

  “They’re fictional characters, Victorine.”

  “But look at what it says about me.” She thought about Daniel, and how strong his love for Emily was. “I kept my characters from their happy endings because I didn’t want them to go on living without me. How selfish is that?”

  “We all have different ways of coping,” he whispered. “You used your books as a means of escape to cope with your feelings—your emptiness. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Charles, I’ve been using my books as a crutch not to deal with my feelings…” She stood, and when an icy chill blew between them, she wrapped her arms around herself. Moving to the edge of the water, she stared at the silvery lake for a long time. When she felt Charles behind her, she leaned back into his chest. “I’ve been hiding behind my books like a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward,” he said, nuzzling the top of her head. “You were just never taught to deal with your feelings. That’s more common than you think.”

  When she shook her head, he turned her around and framed her face with his hands. “You’ve lost more in your life than most people have in a lifetime. And yet, here you are. Still standing strong.” He peered into her eyes, and her heart beckoned for him. “That’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s something to fall in love with.”

  Her
heart jolted as her mind echoed the word “love” over and over again.

  “Sorry.” He pulled back with a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t mean to freak you out—”

  She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his with such a strong desire, she couldn’t even think straight. And when he squeezed her tight, she felt his strength in her soul. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and when he did, she wanted nothing more than to feel his strength everywhere else.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, Victorine woke up in bed with her head resting on a strong chest. She smiled as memories of the night before flooded her mind, causing an explosion of fireworks in her stomach. Cuddling with Charles made her feel light and carefree as never before, and she lifted her head, eager to melt in his deep blues. But she spotted a pair of green eyes staring back at her.

  Daniel!

  She jolted back and fell off the bed.

  “Good morning, love,” he greeted in a teasing tone, rolling on his side to face her. “Quite a breakthrough last night, huh?”

  She rose to her knees with a grumble. “I should’ve written you with a bell.”

  “Woulda, coulda, shoulda. Let’s just get right to business, shall we?” He held up an envelope. “What is this?”

  “Where did you get that?”

  When she tried reaching for it, he pulled it away. “To all characters I’ve killed before,” he read aloud. “What’s this all about?”

  “Charles suggested it.” She finally snatched it from his hand then crawled back into bed. “But it’s not for you, so don’t worry about it.”

  “What are you hoping to accomplish with that?”

  Victorine looked at the letter in her hand. “Closure, I guess.”

  “Is Emily in that letter?”

  “No, she’s not.” Victorine turned to look at him. “What are you, anyway? A figment of my imagination? A representation of my subconscious?”