A knock at his front door sounded, momentarily disrupting his morose thoughts. Juliet? he wondered, his heart giving a pathetic jolt. He bolted up from his chair and hurried to the door.
Keith, his former business partner, stood on his front porch. “Last person you expected to see, eh?” his old friend asked.
“Yes,” Gareth admitted, taken aback. Obviously, Keith had come here for a reason, so rather than press him, Gareth just waited.
Keith shifted uncomfortably. “Listen, man, I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about what happened with Courtney. I was a total ass, and a worse friend, and I just—” He smiled awkwardly. “I just wanted you to know that.”
Gareth nodded. “You still seeing her?”
“Er…no. Haven’t seen her in months.” He looked relieved about that, Gareth noted, feeling a bit vindicated.
“Look, this isn’t about me getting my job back,” he said. “I’m working. I just miss hanging out and talking football, shooting the shit, ya know?”
Gareth did know. He and Keith had always been close. A guy needed friends. Particularly when he’d just been so thoroughly dumped.
Keith’s gaze slid over him and he winced. “I know that I came here to apologize, and, well, this isn’t exactly in the right spirit of things…but you look like hell, man. You been hitting the Scotch?”
“I’ve had a drink or two,” Gareth admitted, opening the door wider to allow Keith inside. A silent gesture, one that indicated he was accepting the olive branch. Keith grinned. “You only break out the hard stuff when you’re having woman trouble,” he said, taking his usual seat in the other recliner. “Anyone I know?”
“Hell, no,” Gareth said, “And stay the hell away from her.”
Keith grimaced. “Is this going to become a frequent warning?”
Gareth glared at him.
“Because it’s cool if it is—I deserve it. I’d just like to know.”
“Not a frequent warning, no. I can’t warn you away from someone who’s ditched me, can I?”
Keith made a face. “Damn, man. That bites. What are you going to do?”
Gareth frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I know that we haven’t spoken in a few months, but I can read the signs here.” He gestured to the liquor. “You’ve polished off almost a full bottle of Scotch, you haven’t gone to bed and you haven’t bothered to turn on the television for any sports therapy.” He shrugged and helped himself to a swig from Gareth’s bottle. “That tells me all I need to know about this girl.” He grinned. “She’s done what no other woman has managed to do.”
“Really?” Gareth replied sarcastically, surprised at how easily they’d fallen back into their old routine. “And what the hell is that?”
Keith grinned. “She’s caught you.”
Gareth remained silent.
“Then thrown you back.” He shrugged, picked up the remote control and surfed channels until he found a college basketball game. “The old Gareth I knew wouldn’t have stood for that.”
Gareth sat there for a minute, absorbing Keith’s assessment. He blinked, stunned, and looked at his friend. Sweet God, he was right. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he sitting here like a pathetic lump? The woman he loved was sitting down at her parents’ table today—once again, without a date on Valentine’s Day—and he was here, halfway across town.
Hadn’t he just remembered she didn’t have any experience when it came to relationships? He was the one with the so-called Master’s degree. Letting her call the shots was the height of stupidity. She didn’t know that the hell she was doing.
Luckily for her, she had him to point out the flaw in her logic, Gareth decided.
He abruptly stood. “You’re right, Keith.”
His friend sighed happily. “I usually am.”
Gareth quirked a pointed brow.
“But not all the time,” Keith replied quickly.
“I’ll see you later,” Gareth said, heading for the shower. “I’ve got to go get caught again.” And if she wouldn’t listen to reason, then he’d just have to impress her again.
“JULIET, you’ve barely touched your chicken divan. What’s wrong? Are you ill? Are those infernal people at the Internet dating sites still bugging you?”
Juliet offered a wan smile to her mother. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m just not hungry.”
“But chicken divan is your favorite,” her mother persisted, unwilling to let it go.
“Leave her alone, Cecilia,” her father admonished. “She’s an adult. She’s allowed not to be hungry.”
“I know she’s allowed,” her mother replied. “I just don’t like it. It makes me worry.”
“I can’t get over the difference that hairstyle makes on you, Juliet,” Portia said. “You look fabulous.”
“Thanks,” Juliet murmured, because a response was called for. If this is what doing the right thing felt like, then she would have been much happier being wrong.
If she’d ever been more miserable in her life, she couldn’t recall. What had she been thinking? Why had she thought breaking up with Gareth now rather than later would be better, when breaking up at all was still going to make her wretched?
She was an idiot.
He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her and she should have had sense enough to hang onto him and make more memories before he broke things off with her. Would he do that? Certainly. But at least she could have enjoyed his company and that lopsided smile and those haunting green eyes a little longer. She could have made love to him over and over again, enjoying every second of his touch.
Remembered heat stole through her limbs and settled in her sex and her lips tingled from that sweet, desperate kiss—one he’d hoped would change her mind, she realized now—last night when he’d walked her to her door.
A gentleman to the end.
Because that was just the sort of man he was. One who could make her laugh until her sides hurt, make her toes curl, make her want things she’d never dared to hope for before. One who would forgive a friend the greatest insult and chaperone a nephew’s prom to save the kid embarrassment.
A good one, Juliet realized, tears burning the backs of her eyes.
The doorbell chimed, announcing a visitor. Excellent, Juliet thought. She’d give up her chair and go home.
“I wonder who that could be,” her father mused. “Are we expecting anyone?” Her father’s gaze slid to her.
Both Portia and Bianca’s dates were present and accounted for. Juliet shook her head. “I’m not.”
Frowning, her mother stood and hurried to the door. She heard her mother’s startled hello, followed by a muffled greeting. “Er, yes, she’s here. Juliet, you say?”
Juliet’s head jerked up and her gaze darted to the dining-room door where Gareth suddenly appeared. Portia gasped and a look of confusion crossed her face. “Gareth?”
Juliet stood. “Er…what are you doing here?
Portia’s gaze darted to Juliet, then back to Gareth. Suddenly, her eyes widened and a huge smile split her face. “Oh,” she said significantly.
Her parents and Bianca looked suitably stunned.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Gareth said. “I didn’t like how things ended last night at the prom and—”
Her father’s bushy eyebrows rose. “The prom? But—”
“Hush, Warren,” her mother said. “Why don’t you and Gareth talk about this in the parlor, dear?” Cecilia suggested.
“Please, Juliet,” Gareth said.
Her heart hammering so loudly in her ears she was almost deaf, Juliet stood on virtually numb legs and made her way into the parlor. She turned and faced Gareth, wondering what on earth could have brought him here.
His woefully familiar gaze traced her face. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night and I’ve decided that I don’t agree.”
“What?”
“Look, Juliet, you’ve admitted that you don’t have a lot o
f experience with relationships, so I think you probably shouldn’t be the one making decisions about this one for us.”
She blinked, trying to decide whether she should be annoyed or overjoyed. “Are you saying that I shouldn’t have any say-so?”
“No, I’m saying that you apparently don’t recognize that we are perfect for each other and that I’m hopelessly in love with you. I can only chalk that up to your inexperience.” He sidled closer. “But don’t worry. I’m going to take charge now and fix everything.”
Warmth bubbled through her middle and again, that strange vision of Eros’s angel-wing earring flashed through her mind. “You’re going to fix everything?”
He nodded. “I am. And I’m going to start by refusing to let you dump me like yesterday’s garbage and ruin Valentine’s Day for both of us.” He withdrew something from his pocket and placed it in her palm. “Here,” he said. “I’ve got something for you.”
Tears blurring her vision, Juliet looked down and found two conversations hearts resting in her hand. Be Mine and I Love You.
A strangled laugh broke out of her throat and she threw her arms around him. “I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed. “I was just scared. I didn’t want to get hurt. Things like this don’t happen to me. Things like you don’t happen to me.”
Gareth drew back and stared down at her, his green eyes bright and sincere. “Juliet, things like you never happen to me. And I’m not letting you go without a fight.”
Her chest bursting with joy, Juliet twined her arms around his neck and offered her lips up for a kiss. “I surrender,” she said.
A whoop of delight sounded from just beyond the doorway and she heard her mother’s feet retreating down the hall, muttering something about setting another plate.
“Do you have a grotto at your place?” Juliet asked, warmth rushing to her core.
He chuckled. “Not yet. But I’ve got a bed.”
That would do, Juliet thought. “I think I need you to impress me,” she murmured, sliding a kiss along his jaw. “And the sooner the better.”
And They Lived Happily Ever After…
AND SO IT WENT that Juliet and Gareth married on a bright June morning. The bride, no longer laboring under the misapprehension that she was an ugly duckling, glided with swan-like grace down the aisle in a simple white dress. The groom, resplendent in a black tux, waited impatiently in front of the minister.
They built a beautiful house on a lovely little parcel of land which overlooked a small lake. On moonlit nights they could be seen walking along its shore or paddling quietly across its smooth surface in a cozy little canoe. Occasionally, Juliet would peer over the side and study her own reflection. The confident woman who smiled contentedly back at her never failed to make her heart swell with an inner, private joy.
Though life would never be entirely pretty, dear Juliet had learned a very valuable lesson—true beauty comes from within and true love deserves respect.
Juliet painted, and word of Gareth’s talent with sex grottos spread throughout the South like kudzu. He made his fortune creating other private paradises like Highgrove’s, but never one so special—or so used—as the one he built for them.
Because it’s not a happy ending without a lot of great sex!
Epilogue
February 15
LB KICKED his feet up onto his desk, laced his fingers behind his head and happily puffed on a Cuban cigar. The first fingers of dawn rose in beautiful pink and amber hues over the Chicago skyline, and from his vantage point in the sleek downtown high-rise, the world was looking pretty damned good.
The preliminary numbers were in and they rocked.
His office space and his ass were both safe.
Another peek at the spreadsheet confirmed that Love, while technically not running neck and neck with Sex, was at least on the rise. Baby steps, LB, told himself. Steady growth. That’s what they needed. And if he had to put a more personal hand into things—he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing about Shay, Scarlett and Juliet’s changes of heart—then so be it. Hell it had been fun. He’d spent so much time stuck behind this damned desk, he’d forgotten how great it could be to be back in the trenches, so to speak.
Without bothering to knock—as if she’d ever need to—Venus strolled into his office. LB scrambled to put his feet on the floor and hurriedly extinguished the cigar. His mother didn’t approve of the habit.
“You need to e-mail those haters at that Web site and tell them to update their homepage,” his mother said. “I hope they’ll be as quick with the new information as they were with the old, unflattering variety.”
LB nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ve taken a look at the new numbers.” To his vast relief, she nodded approvingly and the faintest hint of a smile shaped her mouth. “Well done.”
Relief washed through him. “Thanks, I—”
“I liked your initiative, darling. I think you’re finally beginning to understand how significant love truly is. That’s what it’s all about.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Pack your things. You’re moving up. Corner unit, fourteenth floor.”
LB felt his eyes widen. The fourteenth floor? The Holy Grail of Office Space? Finally? “Seriously?”
Venus grinned. “Seriously.”
Hot damn, LB thought. Love was on the rise. And it looked as if he was, too.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2748-8
BLAZING BEDTIME STORIES
Copyright © 2009 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
ONCE UPON A BITE
Copyright © 2009 by Kimberly Raye Groff.
MY, WHAT A BIG…YOU HAVE!
Copyright © 2009 by Leslie Kelly.
SEXILY EVER AFTER
Copyright © 2009 by Rhonda Nelson.
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