The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  If he hadn't rigged that contest and made sure his hometown friend was the winner, then he wouldn't have needed wedding planners. If Liz hadn’t confessed her feelings were a show for the camera and nothing more, he wouldn't have been at the wedding setup taking photos and trying to convince her to change her mind. And if he hadn't taken those photos, he never would have felt a rush of overpowering emotion when he'd stood hand in hand with Talia.

  He froze in the middle of the hall, realizing just what a twisted trail had led him to someone who affected him like no other girl he'd ever met.

  "Denver?"

  He flinched, looking up to see Talia staring back, her eyes studying him. He wondered what expression she'd seen there moments before.

  "Hello," he said softly, exhausted from so much reflection.

  "Hey," she answered with an adorable tilt of her head. A smile broke through the tense set of her lips. "I just wanted to talk to you briefly. I know this is a pretty strange situation we're in."

  "It is." Denver prepared to apologize, again feeling overwhelmed by the guilt of putting her through this charade mostly to save his image.

  "I just wanted to tell you thank you," she said.

  Denver hesitated, not having expected anything close to gratitude. He assumed she would resent him forever.

  "This whole situation is awkward, but I can't imagine how it must be for you, engaged and all." Her eyes hardened a little at the end, but there wasn't as much distrust as he'd seen there before. "I have no idea why you were undercover at your wedding setup, but that's not any of my business. I’ve been working to earn a get-away, and the ten thousand dollars will really help. So, just…thanks."

  "Oh." He looked into her deep brown eyes and decided to tell her. "Well, I appreciate that, but I don't deserve it." Her cheeks were tinted pink with surprise, and he wagered he'd never seen anything so beautiful. It only made his nerves worse. "There's something I need to tell you that no one else is aware of. Do you promise me you'll keep it between us? At least for now?"

  Her eyes were stunning, looking similar to a white-spotted fawn he'd seen once on the side of the road. It had skirted into the shrubs but not before casting the widest gaze with the darkest eyes he'd ever seen. Until now.

  "Sure, what's wrong?"

  She continued gazing. Denver swallowed, terrified of his next words. His breath seemed captive in his chest, and he released it in a sudden gust, sucking in another swallow of air just as quickly. "A couple of weeks ago—"

  "Denver!" Denver's father walked up behind him, slapping him on the shoulder. He draped an arm around each of them, directing them forward. "What a great week this will be."

  It wasn't until they'd turned the corner that Denver spotted the man with the camera. He lifted it with a questioning eye, to which Denver's dad nodded and paused their procession.

  They all smiled for the shot, although Denver could see Talia was a little stiff, and he wagered he matched her discomfort.

  "We've gotta run, Dad. See you tomorrow." He tried to feel comfortable and accustomed to the gesture when he took Talia's hand. She reacted a bit late, but a smile quickly formed on her face, and she walked with him, hand in hand. Denver's heart was nearly in his throat, beating wildly. It was all a game on the outside, but on the inside, there was nothing fake about it. She was someone he desperately wanted to get closer to.

  When they left the building, he caught a strange look from the receptionist in the lobby, but everyone else seemed perfectly unaware of the strange twist in his life and the rollercoaster his heart was on.

  "Okay, well." Talia hesitated, glancing around the street to see a few eyes on them. She stepped in and placed her arms around him briefly in the most fleeting hug he'd ever been given. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

  "Bye." Denver tried to imagine he'd known Talia for years, that they were friends and soon to be partners in life. If he couldn't play the part, the tabloids were bound to see through him. But it was nearly impossible with the way his pulse was raging. So, he stared after her, mesmerized.

  "See you tomorrow."

  Chapter 6

  It had been two days since the meeting in Mr. Caldon Sr.'s office, and Talia was finally able to relax. The small group of media and paparazzi outside her apartment building was down to only one bored-looking man. He perched atop the stone barrier around a palm tree, leaning against the rough bark and looking nearly asleep.

  When a text showed up on her phone from Denver, she recognized the number as his, although she hadn't saved it to his name. It seemed too dangerous. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had no idea who the "Candy King" was. Meeting with his father had been much more intimidating than she would have guessed, and it left her with questions. Sure, their company creates some of the most delicious bits of chocolate and candy coating she'd ever tasted, but that didn't make them nice people. It didn't even make them honest people, and she definitely needed to figure that out. If it was just Denver she was studying, she wouldn't be concerned, but perhaps he was more like his father than he was letting on? Hard and cold, and ready to do whatever questionable thing it took to save face.

  She glanced at the screen on her phone again, typing out a reply. It was a relief that Denver wanted to stroll around the grocery store. She'd been hiding out from reporters for so long, her pantry was bare. Parting the curtain, she watched the bored man stroll away.

  The street was finally as it should be, people casually walking by on their way to work or headed to the park with a dog or two. She hadn't expected the calm to return so quickly—Mr. Caldon Sr. really knew his strategies. But now that Denver was on his way to pick her up, a buzz of nerves had found its way into her chest, bouncing around inside.

  He was engaged. Maybe they were just one of those exceptionally secure couples who smiled and hugged everyone in sight. But for Talia, it had felt like more than that. Her hands were sweating just remembering holding his.

  She wiped her palms on her jeans and took a breath, hurrying to the bathroom mirror and quickly running a brush through her hair. It was all she had time to do before the intercom buzzed in her apartment.

  "Talia?"

  His voice was a catalyst, sending her heart into a strange skipping beat. It throbbed in her chest as she pushed the button aside her door. "Hello, Denver." She took a deep breath, hoping to steady the tremor in her throat. "I'm on my way down."

  Never had three flights of stairs been so treacherous. One trip, two stubbed toes, and a missed stair later, she made it to the ground floor. But out the front doors, there was much more going on than she'd seen outside her window.

  Her doorman dipped his head respectfully. "Good luck, miss."

  She mumbled a thank you and trudged through. Denver was in front of a mass of people, both men and women, smiling and squinting, happy and intense. There were men with dark t-shirts stretched over their impressive biceps that she recognized as bodyguards, holding the commotion back. It was a scene she'd only witnessed on certain reality shows for famous actors and actresses.

  "I'm sorry to bring all this with me." Denver had glasses on and spoke with his head tilted down and his arm raised as if their audience were a hurricane and he meant to shield her.

  Talia took his arm and pulled him forward. "It's okay, let’s get going."

  There was a silver car parked along the street, and one of the dark T-shirt bodybuilders opened the back door.

  "Here you are, sir,"

  Denver stepped aside and ushered Talia forward, giving her time to step into the sleek car and scoot to the far side before he ducked inside. They exhaled together as the car pulled away from the curb. Talia hadn't expected the chauffer, and it must have shown on her face as she gazed into the front seat at the stranger. "I wanted to drive," Denver said, brushing one hand through his hair. A few unruly strands were twisted into natural curls, evading his touch and tumbling across his forehead. "But when the crowds are heavy like this, it's safer to have a driver.
I didn't expect them to follow me and go at us—sorry about that."

  "No, it's fine." Talia looked behind them to see a few cars cutting through traffic, following them. "I guess I've never thought about media attention quite like that. It gets pretty crazy."

  "I'm Anthony, nice to meet you."

  Talia caught the driver's eye in the rearview mirror and smiled. "Talia. Nice to meet you too." The eyes in the mirror crinkled with what she presumed was a smile. She turned back to Denver to see a more somber expression that before.

  "I spoke to Liz," he said, glancing down at his phone. "She said she understands and is going to lie low for the next week."

  "If you'd like a bit of advice, sir?" Anthony asked as he turned into the grocery store parking lot.

  "No, Anthony, thank you."

  Denver's curt response had Talia glancing back and forth between them, to the looks they were giving each other through the mirror. But there was no more conversation, and they pulled into a parking space in silence. Denver stepped out of the car without another word.

  "Thank you," Talia said, smiling at the back of his head again and stepping out as well. They took a few steps together before there were sounds of car doors closing, but Denver must have known they would follow. He signaled to an employee as they walked through the sliding doors, and the doors were secured behind them, locking out the few reporters who shouted questions at them.

  When they were sufficiently alone, Talia studied the sadness in his eyes. "So, what was that about?" she asked, keeping her voice low and hoping her question wasn't entirely personal. "Why didn't you want Anthony's help?"

  "Well…"

  He seemed to be avoiding her eyes and kept busy studying the isles of products instead.

  "He knows me well but sometimes tries to ignore the fact that I'm in a different situation because of my career and my family." His gaze fell on her and he smiled. "He wants me to just be a normal guy."

  Talia pulled some bread off a shelf, loading it in the cart. "He sounds nice." She glanced back at him, finding the same expression she'd seen on the yacht the night they'd met. It was a mix of admiration and awe, and if they really were engaged, it was a look that would have her falling deeper in love. If they were engaged, which they were not, so she wasn't.

  She reached for a bag of oranges, loading them up and glancing at the few people around them. "I'm glad you wanted this to be our first public date," she whispered. "There's not much left in my house except for some chocolate."

  "Really? What kind?" He grinned back at her, finally resembling the fun person she'd joked with at the sumo party.

  "I only ever buy Caldon chocolates," she said in the snobbiest voice she could manage.

  "Ha, we'll just see about that." He lifted an eyebrow, staring deep into her eyes. "Which ones are your favorites?"

  "The dark chocolate, caramel-filled squares, of course." She didn't back down from his gaze, feeling fully confident in her skills as a candy connoisseur. "But if I'm traveling, I like to have something with more crunch. The trail mix is a good option or the mint drops, those are nice too, even though they aren't technically chocolate. But that can be forgiven if the mint flavor is mild and the texture is buttery smooth."

  Denver stopped in his tracks, and Talia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his furrowed brows and half-grin. "Well," she fumbled, grabbing a bag of pasta, "you did ask."

  "You're right, I did." He reached for a jar of marinara sauce. "But now I'm thinking, of the two of us, you just might be the expert here."

  He propped one hand on the side of the cart, leaning against it and causing a firm edge of strength to appear along his bicep. Talia's eyes flickered to the impressive sight before she spun around and reached for whatever was closest, which happened to be a small jar of green, pimento-stuffed olives.

  Eww.

  She nodded decisively and set them in the cart, noticing the slight wrinkle in Denver's nose as well. At least he hadn't noticed her noticing him… That was the last thing they needed. It was awkward enough pretending to be engaged to an already engaged man. But it would be worse if he knew she was crushing on him. And she was, there was no way around it. Her heart was a sellout, and she had to admit it. She was hooked on his heartbreaker smile and perfect humor, his kindness and pleasant manner—so much more than she'd realized.

  "You want me?"

  Talia's heart sunk to her toes as she turned to him with her thoughts spinning. "What?" She couldn't force a fake smile or even conjure up a nervous laugh. There was only surprise coursing through her. He met her gaze and his smile fell, leaving them in an awkward standoff as she racked her brain for what she'd said or done to tip him off to her inner struggle.

  "Want me to help?"

  They were standing at the register with customers waiting, and Talia hadn't even noticed.

  "With the groceries?" Denver reached for some items from the cart. "Is everything okay?"

  "Oh, right. Yes." She snatched as many bags as she could, dumping them on the conveyor belt. "I've just got this headache and wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything. I guess I wasn't paying attention. Sorry about that."

  "It's no problem, Tal—Liz,"

  He corrected himself at the last minute, catching her eye just as he pulled the last few items from the cart. They stepped up to pay at the same time, both with a bank card in their hands. Denver held her wrist gently, lowering her hand. "I got this."

  "No, I can—"

  "It's fine, you can pay next time." His voice was playful, and he hugged her from the side, casting a heart-stopping wink in her direction.

  She glanced around them, realizing as she met a half dozen unfamiliar eyes that they were on stage at this moment, acting out an engaged couple.

  And he was doing a great job.

  Chapter 7

  Talia's mood never recovered, sinking to some sub-surface tomb deep below the earth. Fine. Let it stay there. She was in hell, anyway.

  A man who walked and talked and laughed like perfection was actually real, and they might as well be miles apart. Because he was engaged to not her.

  Get that through your thick head!

  Denver parked along the street next to her apartment and turned off the ignition. "I can help you carry these up. Sorry you're not feeling well." He smiled with a sympathy in his eyes that had her heart swelling, even with the pinch of guilt at having lied to him. Her head was fine.

  "It's okay." She stepped out into the heat of an Arizona summer. "I can get them if you need to be going. I'm sure the media got some good shots of us, anyway."

  He flinched, standing and looking back at her with smoldering disapproval on his face. "No, that's not what I meant. I'd genuinely like to help you out, fake engagement or not." He shrugged. "I wouldn't leave you here with a dozen bags to carry up on your own. C'mon, now, you don't think that's me, do you?" His lips stretched into a tight grin.

  Talia's mood lifted. "I would hope it's not, but to tell you the truth, I don't know." She tangled the straps of a few bags around one wrist, but when she reached for more bags, Denver grabbed her left hand, holding it in his.

  "Speaking of which… You're missing something."

  He slid a ring onto her third finger. It felt cool and smooth and much too heavy. Talia's eyes dropped to the dazzling stone on her finger, and she gasped. Everything told her that this was a real gem, as much as she hoped it was fake. It glittered and shone, giving her hand a beauty she'd missed.

  When Shaun had given her a ring, she'd counted on it as the commitment it was supposed to be. Every time she'd had doubts, she would gaze at her ring and convince herself otherwise.

  Now, there was another ring on her hand, but it meant even less than the one before.

  Her throat felt suddenly swollen. "Thank you," she said, hearing the rough tones in her voice. It was no use, she just needed to get on with it. Once Denver left, she could take the ring off and not think of it again.

  "I got these.
" He had the rest of the bags looped around his wrists and managed to close the trunk of his car with an elbow. "Thank you, Anthony," he called, just as the door swung open to her building.

  Anthony waved and Talia lifted her free arm in reply, stunned at the glittering it caused. She tried to ignore it as she led the way to the stairs.

  "You don't want to take the elevator?" Denver asked, having pushed the button. He looked unbalanced, stepping toward the elevator doors while leaning back in her direction.

  "Oh." Talia glanced back and forth between the two doors, wondering what he would think of her if he knew her aversion to elevators. "Yeah, we can take it up. It's fine." She joined him just as the doors parted, and they stepped in the tiny room together. It wasn't exactly a phobia anyway, more of a dislike, which was completely manageable.

  "Are you one of those ultra-healthy people who intentionally take the stairs every time?" Denver winked. "Because so am I."

  "Well, not really." Talia tried to laugh, but it was a nervous, shaky attempt. "I mean, I don't mind stairs." She adjusted the plastic bags around her wrist. "It's just that I really hate elevators if I'm being honest."

  The small metal chamber they were in jolted like a giant hand had jerked on the cables, making Talia gasp. Her body became rigid, but she hoped it didn't show. "If you think about it…" She hoped to provide a little light to what, on its own, sounded like a childish fear. "You're placing your life in the hands of whoever maintains these things. I don't know about you, but I haven't seen that happening every day. Plus, I hate feeling out of control. If I'm going to be in danger, I don't want to be helpless about it, ya know?"

  She hoped desperately that he wasn't trying to hold back his laughter, or that he hadn't begun wondering if she was completely well. But when she turned to him, he was nodding respectfully.

  "No, I know what you mean." His voice was contemplative and soft as if he was combing through similar memories. "I can't stand that feeling, that desperate, out-of-control panic. It's like you've given over the keys to the car, and the person who was supposed to keep you safe just shifted it into neutral and bailed out."