LOL #2 Romantic Comedy Anthology - Volume 2 - Even More All-New Romance Stories by Bestselling Authors (LOL Romantic Comedy Anthology #2)

by Anthology

  She flipped me off, earning her a distressed tutting from her mother who entered the room at the same moment. I grinned at Lizzie’s flash of color—no matter how independent she got, I doubted she would ever be okay with her mom catching her in a moment of misbehavior. “You’re in a church,” I hissed, mock-scandalized. “What would God think?”

  “If you want to call this a church,” Maria, her oldest sister muttered under her breath, following my aunt into the room.

  Lizzie and I rolled our eyes in tandem. Maria had really come around in regards to Lizzie and Thomas’s relationship as of late, but there was no way she would let any opportunity pass her by to make her feelings known about Lizzie’s decision to get married in an Anglican church instead of a Catholic one.

  I had to give Maria some credit. A year ago it would have been unheard of that she would even attend a protestant wedding, family member or not. As inflexible as she might still seem, she had come a long way. That was another thing I was grateful for—Lizzie standing up to her family and insisting on continuing her relationship with Thomas had the surprising effect of actually chilling everyone out. Of course, our family would always be annoyingly up in each other’s business, that was just a fact of life. But prior to Lizzie’s uncharacteristic rebellion it would have been unthinkable for any of my cousins to move away from home—across the ocean, no less. By sticking to her guns she had instituted at least some change in the way our family typically judged each other.

  Just in time for me to become a single mother, I thought. How lucky for me.

  “Has anyone seen my heels?” Laura, my other cousin, asked, rooting around on the floor by Lizzie’s feet.

  “They’re next to your purse.” I pointed at the bag sitting on the counter only inches from Laura.

  She made a face at me shaking her head. “I’m such a ditz. I swear to God, having a baby makes you lose your damn mind, Sof. Be warned.”

  “Thank you.” I tried and failed to keep the sarcasm from my voice, but Laura didn’t seem to notice, instead responding to Callie’s inquiry about her new baby with a pleased expression as she whipped out her cell phone to show off the latest pictures.

  Lizzie again met my eyes across the room, shaking her head in sympathy. It was impossible to get through a day in this family without someone offering up some well-meaning pregnancy advice. Having babies seemed to be what our family did best, and every single one of my cousins, my aunts, my mother, even my own sister, thought it was their sworn duty to make sure I heard every little tidbit of wisdom they had accumulated.

  I had told Lizzie only yesterday that it might have been better if they had kept shunning me for being an unwed mother until I’d already had the baby. At least that way I could have done without the advice.

  “Ladies,” Lizzie’s brother Samuel called, peeking his head through the open door. He had a hand clapped over his eyes. “Everyone decent?”

  “Come in, you idiot,” Maria chided her little brother. “Do you think we would have left the door open if we weren’t decent?”

  “Good point.” Sam dropped his hand and entered the room, giving us his trademark charming grin. I wondered, not for the first time, why the guys in our family didn’t get the same pressure to couple up and get married that we girls did. Sam, like my other cousins, was totally gorgeous with his dark hair and strong features. And, like my other cousins, he totally knew it. The Medina boys were players and no one batted an eye.

  But then Sam’s gaze landed on Lizzie and my momentary annoyance dropped. His expression changed to something akin to awe as he took in his little—and favorite—sister in her wedding dress. “Wow, Lizzie,” he said, shaking his head. “You look beautiful.”

  I saw my own expression mirrored in the faces of my relatives and stifled a laugh. I was one to complain about the boys getting off easy—here I was melting at him being sweet just like any of our aunties would do.

  After Sam hugged Lizzie he turned to his mom. “The photographer is done taking shots of the groomsmen so he’s wondering if any of you are ready enough to head out for some pictures. It will save time after the ceremony.”

  Since we were done with hair and makeup, it was decided that all of the members of the family would go to get some shots out of the way while Callie finished helping Lizzie to get ready. I left my cousin somewhat unwillingly, feeling again like I might cry. I was her maid of honor, shouldn’t I be staying with her? But my mood changed swiftly—another lovely side effect of being pregnant—once I gathered with the other girls for pictures. Lizzie’s new sister-in-law, Bryony, was waiting for us in the hallway. And she had news.

  “Jackson Coles is here,” she whispered in my ear. “Can you believe it?”

  “Seriously?” My heart rate sped up and I and immediately felt silly. Jackson Coles was one of Thomas’s co-stars in the Darkness movies. Like most of the other girls I knew, I’d had a crush on him pretty much forever, long before Lizzie ever met Thomas in real life. And how could anyone blame me? With his messy, golden hair, heart-stoppingly blue eyes, and wicked little smile, I doubted there was a single woman under the age of fifty on either side of the pond that didn’t find him exceedingly hot. Except, of course, for Lizzie, who was disappointingly immune to the charms of celebrities for someone who was about to marry one.

  “I thought he was shooting a movie?” my cousin Laura asked, leaning across me to interrogate Bryony and rather proving my point; Laura was thirty, married, and had a kid, and she had still gone all breathless and red-faced at the thought of seeing Jackson tonight.

  “I guess he got the day off,” Bryony said, eyes wide. Though her older brother was a legitimate movie star, she apparently wasn’t any cooler than us when it came to running into other celebs.

  “Is he in a tux?” Laura asked hopefully.

  Bryony shook her head. “No, a dark suit. But he looks amazing.”

  I bet he does, I thought. But then again, he probably would have looked just as good in jeans and a T-shirt.

  For one brief moment I allowed myself to play out a little fantasy in my head. Jackson would brush against me in line at the bar, his eyes widening at the sight of my face. Immediately smitten, he would insist that we dance together and we would—

  What? I asked myself crossly. Spend the evening talking about my impending future of diaper changing? It was the stupidest fantasy I’d ever had. Besides, I would never meet Jackson in line for the bar—I couldn’t even drink.

  The photographer took shots of me and my cousins, my aunt and uncle, and each of the girls with their respective groomsmen partner. Since we were missing Lizzie and Callie, we held off on the full group shots and in very little time were heading back down to the dressing room.

  “Do you think he’ll dance?” Laura asked me in an undertone before breaking into a giggle. “Oh my God, listen to me. I’m a grown woman!”

  “He is spectacularly hot,” I told her. “I think you’re justified in getting a little silly.”

  “You should totally hook up with him,” she said, her eyes flashing. “One last fling before the baby comes.”

  I laughed, waving my hand around my belly. “Oh, for sure. I bet he’d be dying to get with all this.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You look awesome, Sof. That dress totally hides your bump—which is like, freakishly small anyhow.” She raised an eyebrow at my cleavage. “And your rack is insane.”

  I rolled my eyes. “One benefit of being knocked up, I guess.”

  Luckily, she dropped it before we got to the dressing room. I wasn’t sure I could handle the shaming that would radiate off of Maria if she overheard us talking about hookups and insane racks in the house of God—even if it was an Anglican God.

  Time seemed to kick into high gear after we got back to the room—Callie had finished with Lizzie’s makeup, put the final touches on her hair, and, according to my cousin, doused her entire head fully with hair spray. With everyone back in the room, the talking and giggling increased, an e
xcited buzz building as the ceremony grew ever closer.

  Finally, Lizzie asked her mom to help her with her veil, an impossibly gorgeous mantilla lace creation that had been passed down for several generations. Again I felt that same stirring of something close to jealousy. It had been my grandmother’s veil as well—would I ever get the chance to wear it? I couldn’t really picture it. I’d had a hard enough time finding a decent boyfriend before. How was I going to manage after my due date, once I had a tiny screaming infant attached to me at all times?

  Pushing away the depressing thought of never getting laid again, I put the final touches on my own makeup while Lizzie’s mom adjusted her veil. Then everyone was hugging her and I watched as she grinned around at the people she loved, the bud of jealousy changing swiftly (there were those hormonal mood swings again) to a strange little ache.

  This was really it. Lizzie was getting married, moving to London with her movie star husband. The pregnancy had not yet made me so emotional to think that I was losing her, but it would be different. We spent our whole lives together, only a few miles apart. We had spent countless hours talking, watching movies, shopping, having sleepovers. In all the craziness of our family, Lizzie was my calm place in the storm, my best friend from before the time I could talk. And now she would be starting her own family, taking her just a little bit farther away from the one we had shared since birth.

  She looked at me and I shook my head, sure I was about to cry, waving my hands around my face to keep the tears from coming. “I’ll burst into tears if I touch you,” I told her, embarrassed by the shake in my voice. “Blame the hormones.”

  But she only laughed and pulled me into the tightest hug. “I love you, chica,” she whispered. I tried not to think that this was the last time I would hug her as a Medina. Tried not to think of how many countless hugs we had shared over the years. Tried not to think that soon she would be married, and I would be a mother, and nothing was ever going to be the same.

  “See?” I cried, dabbing at my eyes as she pulled away, laughing. She moved onto Maria and I rushed to the mirror to fix my makeup, taking deep breaths. No more crying, I told myself firmly. This is a happy day. And you’re not a crier.

  I heard Laura sniffing loudly as we lined up for the processional and that was enough to get me under control—there were plenty of people to get weepy in our family, I certainly wasn’t going to be one of them.

  We were led down the hall to the chapel and I waited while my cousins, Callie, and Bryony walked in before me. As maid of honor it was my turn to go last, right before Lizzie. I had a brief moment of panic as I pictured walking through the doors. The church was packed and every eye would be on me, at least for a moment. Laura had been right about the dresses Lizzie had picked; wine-colored chiffon with Grecian draping, they were incredibly flattering to any figure, even a preggers one like mine. But the dress couldn’t hide the belly completely. How many of those people out there would notice the lack of ring on my hand? How many of them would be judging me?

  Feeling way more defensive than was probably called for, I jutted my chin forward and held my head up high as I entered the room, determined not to meet anyone’s eye. Ahead of me I saw Thomas smiling warmly and felt slightly better. And then there was a slight intake of breath as the music changed—Thomas’s eyes, and everyone else’s, I assumed—immediately snapped to the space behind me. Lizzie and her father must have entered the church. I sighed in relief, making my way to my spot before turning to watch her. Her eyes were on Thomas, her expression somehow even more radiant than it had been before.

  My uncle, finished with his job, joined my aunt in the front pew. I watched as he took her hand, as she leaned into him slightly, her eyes bright with tears, and found I had to blink back my own. But this time, I couldn’t bring myself to find any shame in the show of emotion. My Aunt Sofia, the woman for whom I was named, had nearly died after a burst aneurysm last spring. The fact that she was here with us, happy and healthy, to watch her youngest daughter get married felt like a gift. I may have prided myself on not being as emotional as the rest of the family, but my heart wasn’t completely stony.

  As the reverend began the ceremony, I let my eyes wander over the guests. By our family standards, the ceremony was positively tiny, with just over fifty guests. About half of them were members of our family, flown over from the States for the wedding. A few of my aunts and uncles, cousins, Lizzie’s nieces and nephew, my nieces and nephews. My parents were sitting in the second pew, right behind Lizzie’s. It took me a moment to realize that my mother’s eyes were not locked on the ceremony. Instead, her gaze seemed to flick back and forth between the couple and me. And the look on her face told me exactly what she was thinking.

  I immediately straightened, anger coursing through me. Could she be any more obvious? When I first told my parents about the baby they had reacted exactly the way I expected them to—they freaked the hell out. My mom had sobbed so hard you would have thought I was sick or something, not merely pregnant. And my dad had gone white-faced and silent, looking for all the world like I’d broken his heart.

  I left home to move in with Lizzie and Thomas that same day. I was freaked out enough by the unexpected motherhood without dealing with their drama. They begged me to come home for months, finally succeeding when we reconciled over Laura’s new baby. And they’d mostly been okay since I moved back in. They’d even changed my sister’s old room into a nursery for the baby, painted in yellow and white since I had decided against finding out the gender. They almost seemed excited for me.

  Yet here was my mom, looking longingly from me to my cousin, clearly mourning the fact that it was Lizzie standing there getting married instead of me.

  I clenched my fists around the stem of the bouquet, breathing through my nose, trying to calm down. You’re just being overly sensitive, I told myself, again blaming the pesky hormones. Maybe she was thinking about us as kids, and that’s why she was looking at both of us. But I knew it wasn’t true.

  For the rest of the ceremony I did my best not to look at my parents at all, focusing instead on the other side of the chapel. The groom’s side. It was a long time before I realized that one of the guests was looking back at me.

  I was so surprised I nearly dropped the flowers. Three pews from the back, right on the end, sat Jackson Coles, looking every bit as gorgeous as I could possibly imagine.

  And he was staring right at me.

  Chapter Two

  Bryony was right, I thought to myself as I picked over my wedding cake at the head table later that evening. Jackson Coles didn’t need to wear a tux. He was hot enough in his slim-cut black suit, like a picture from a fashion magazine. Which makes sense, I told myself, considering he has multiple endorsements and therefore models for fashion magazines on a regular basis. I had to bite back a giggle, feeling almost hysterical. From across the table Maria shot me an alarmed glance.

  I really didn’t need her to tell me I was acting like a crazy person. Believe me, I was well aware. The fact that Jackson Coles was in this building, looking unimaginably attractive, had nothing to do with me. And while I saw several females in the general area peering at him over their dessert plates and giggling with their friends, it didn’t appear as if any of them were suffering from quite the level of discomposure that I was.

  I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was like a homing beacon or something—every time I glanced up from my cake, my eyes automatically went in his direction. Of course, it didn’t help that he was seated directly in my line of sight. Or that his shock of golden hair was so distinctive in a room full of my dark-haired relatives. Regardless of the reasons, I found myself looking at him again and again over dinner and the subsequent cake.

  And he was looking back.

  No, that had to be my imagination. Or maybe he was only looking to see who the crazy staring girl was. But then why had he smiled at me a few moments ago? Had I imagined that? I must have. Gorgeous movie stars who make millions a ye
ar and date supermodels would not be smiling at bloated, pregnant commoners.

  Right?

  “Sofie,” Laura said at my side, and I immediately tore my gaze from the direction of Jackson’s table, a blush rushing to my face.

  “What?”

  She gave me a strange look, similar to the one Maria had given me a few moments earlier. “The waiter,” she said, as if it should have been obvious. Finally she pointed to the space over my shoulder. “Hello?”

  I looked in the direction she was pointing, finally realizing that there was a waiter at my side attempting to clear my plate. I slid back in my chair to give him room, feeling embarrassed—and more than a little disappointed that I’d been too distracted to enjoy my cake.

  “Are you okay?” Laura asked. “You’re acting all weird and jumpy.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, my eyes automatically straying back to Jackson. Once again he appeared to be looking at me—there! That was definitely a smile in my direction.

  Unfortunately, Laura saw it too.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Did Jackson Coles just smile at you?”

  I tried to laugh. “Oh, sure. I bet.”

  “He did! I saw him!”

  “He’s probably just being polite,” I said, my voice sounding high-pitched in my ears. For some reason, Laura confirming my suspicions was putting me into panic mode. It had been easier to fantasize about the possibility of him checking me out than it was to seriously consider the fact that he was.

  “You should go ask him to dance!”

  I choked on a laugh. “Yeah, Laura. I’ll do that.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue and I was relieved when Thomas stood up to lead Lizzie out onto the floor for their first dance. The first dance was followed by bouquet tossing, which I hid in the bathroom for—much to my mother’s despair. There was no way I was going to submit myself to the humiliation of being single and pregnant and vying for a bouquet with a bunch of teenage girls.