Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

by Violet Duke

  She ran her thumb back and forth over Adrianne’s knuckles. “You know,” she said, turning in her seat to face Adrianne. “Mason and I have always had similar tastes in women. We both love blonds.”

  The stewardess stepped into the aisle to demonstrate the safety features of the plane. Adrianne tuned it out and focused on Lauren. She didn’t want to think about needing safety features of any kind. If they started going down, she was going to freak out, pass out and not know the difference anyway.

  Lauren reached up and fingered the curl of hair near Adrianne’s jaw. “Alex, my last girlfriend, was blond. Her hair was straight but about the same shade as yours.”

  Lauren’s eyes roamed over Adrianne’s face and Adrianne found herself riveted by how thick her eyelashes were.

  “Alex really liked my eyes,” Lauren said. “And she had great skin.” She ran her finger over Adrianne’s cheek. “So do you, but I think your best feature is your mouth. You’ve got great lips.”

  Adrianne held her breath as Lauren slid the pad of her index finger over her bottom lip. She had no idea how to react or what do say. Lauren was beautiful and confident and put off a very sensual vibe. She also smelled great. But Adrianne wasn’t into women. It had never even occurred to her. She’d never been hit on by one that she could recall, and the simple fact was she wasn’t interested.

  Lauren gave her a soft smile. “You’re very beautiful, Adrianne.”

  Though, wow, if anyone could make her consider trying something new, it might be Lauren. She practically oozed the promise of a good time.

  “I’m guessing Mason would say it’s your hips and butt—which are fantastic by the way—but for me it’s definitely your lips.”

  Then she leaned in and kissed Adrianne.

  Adrianne gasped at the soft, completely foreign texture of a woman’s lips, glazed with strawberry lip gloss, touching her own.

  It didn’t feel…bad. But it was certainly different.

  Lauren tipped her head, cupped the back of Adrianne’s, and increased the pressure, opening her lips slightly.

  Adrianne didn’t push her away, but she had no idea what to do. Kissing Lauren felt weird, and Adrianne had a suspicion that it was more about the fact that she didn’t want to kiss anyone but Mason than it was about Lauren being a woman. Though that was a little weird too.

  A moment later, Lauren pulled back and settled into her own seat again.

  Adrianne pressed her lips together, still tasting strawberry. Once Lauren shifted, Adrianne could see the guy in 3C was watching with wide eyes.

  Lauren glanced over at him.

  “Best seating arrangement ever,” he said with a grin.

  Lauren grinned back and then turned to Adrianne. “You okay?”

  “I’m…stunned. I’m flattered too, but…stunned.”

  Lauren reached for the People magazine she’d brought on board with her. “Relax. It was a diversionary tactic.”

  “The kiss? What?”

  “I was trying to distract you from the fact that you’re lifting off in an airplane,” she said as she flipped the cover open and perused the contents page. “I didn’t have time to get you drunk, so I had to improvise with what I do have.”

  “That would have definitely worked,” Adrianne admitted, slumping back in her chair and crossing her arms.

  “It did work,” Lauren said, pointing at Adrianne’s window.

  Adrianne looked out.

  Sure enough, they were airborne. Nearly at cruising altitude. She’d made it.

  She swung back to face Lauren. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, it’s not like it was a sacrifice,” Lauren said still looking at the magazine. She licked her lips as she turned a page. “Not at all.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MASON HAD BEEN to the lab on Tuesday when he’d returned to Chicago. He’d waited to go in until long after he knew everyone else would be gone, knowing that he would be horrible company and not convinced he could contribute anything meaningful to anything.

  He’d stayed for twenty minutes.

  He was so restless he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. The lab seemed to be mocking him—it was everything he’d done, worked for, accomplished. Everything he was known for. And he hated it all in those twenty minutes.

  This was keeping him from normal. This was what was in his way of having a normal life.

  If it wasn’t for this fucking lab, for the tests and trials and projects, he could have Adrianne. And Sapphire Falls and everything he wanted. He could golf and have coffee at the diner and go to the town festival without worrying about Haiti and Outreach America.

  If it wasn’t for this fucking lab, he wouldn’t have developed his seed project. Without that, Outreach America would have never been interested in talking with him. If they hadn’t talked to him, he’d know no more about Haiti than Drew or Tim or Steve. Without that knowledge, he could have been content to donate money to the Red Cross and know he’d done some good that way.

  But now he knew. He knew what was happening, he knew what was being done about it and he knew that he fit into that.

  Frustration welled up and he’d tried to throw a glass container of the almost-there-but-something-was-missing fertilizer against the wall. But he couldn’t even bring himself to do that. He’d never been the violent type and he’d worked hard on that mixture. It wasn’t perfect, but throwing it away didn’t make sense.

  It wasn’t like it would change anything.

  Nothing had changed.

  He’d gone to Washington with Lauren. He’d had the meeting with the vice president.

  That hadn’t changed anything either.

  The truth was, from here on out everything he’d worked for—even if it all went perfectly—wouldn’t be quite enough.

  He’d finally found a woman who understood and admired what he was doing in Haiti—so much that she shut him out of her life so he’d go do it.

  She wasn’t returning his calls, she wasn’t responding to texts or emails. Phoebe and Hailey weren’t even calling him back. And Drew and Tim—no surprise—weren’t a hell of a lot of help.

  It was now Friday and he was back at the lab.

  Adrianne wanted him here. She believed in his work. Maybe those thoughts would make being here tolerable. Or at least he could get this fucking project going, get to Haiti, launch the project and then head back to Sapphire Falls. He’d be needed in Haiti again, of course, but he was going to see Adrianne before that happened.

  He needed to see her, hear her, touch her—reassure himself that she was healthy and well and…happy. Even if it was without him.

  “Dr. Riley!”

  He was immediately greeted by the three lab assistants. Spencer was a grad student working on his PhD in agricultural engineering like Mason. Nadia had finished her master’s degree and was starting her PhD program that fall. Todd was in his last year of his undergraduate degree in microbiology and was fascinated by the work Mason and Lauren were doing. He’d begged for a position in the lab and had been a huge asset. All three were accompanying them to Haiti.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Nadia told him, giving him a big smile. “I’ve been dying to bounce some ideas off of you but didn’t want to bother you while you were on vacation.”

  “I’ve got some seedlings going from that tomato crop we were playing around with,” Todd said from across the room. “You have to see this.”

  Mason took a deep breath. Damn. This was like being greeted by the guys at the coffee shop times ten.

  He felt like a rock star.

  “I’ve started packing some of the seeds,” Spencer said. “Bu
t I wanted you to check the boxes.”

  These kids were excited. They were ready to take the challenges and make the world a better place. And they looked up to him—nerd tendencies and all.

  The least he could do was try to pull it together enough for them.

  “I DON’T THINK I can do this,” Adrianne whispered to Lauren as she smoothed the front of her skirt and licked her lips.

  She’d had to buy the suit she now wore—the weight she’d gained in Sapphire Falls meant that none of her previous work suits fit anymore.

  She liked the black skirt and the red and black jacket. She hadn’t missed heels though.

  “You can do this,” Lauren said confidently. “You’re a natural.”

  Adrianne looked at the woman sitting in the leather wingback chair adjacent to hers, flipping the pages of a People magazine. “Thank you. I think.”

  Lauren smiled. “You know how to sell and you believe in our product. Secretary Williams is going to be eating out of your hand.”

  Adrianne felt her pulse slow and she took a calming breath. She was fine. She’d even enjoyed the flight—Lauren had booked them in first class, which certainly helped—and the five-star hotel last night. She hadn’t been in bed with five-hundred-thread-count sheets in a long time. She’d swum, had an egg-white omelet and fruit for breakfast and had on a new pair of Gucci heels. All in all, she had nothing to complain about. Money made it easier to travel healthy—if she wanted to put in the effort.

  Today she did.

  “This product isn’t exactly like a box of candy,” she told Lauren.

  “No,” Lauren agreed. “It’s something you feel even more passionately about than candy.” She flipped the page on her magazine.

  Watching her, it was hard to believe this woman was one of the foremost authorities on water and soil conservation in the United States.

  She looked like a fashion model. It would be easy to underestimate her. Adrianne needed to keep that in mind.

  Adrianne pulled her notes out of her bag. She was here to do a job. This was essentially a sales meeting. She was convincing someone to take a chance on her product. She’d been in this position hundreds of times.

  In this case, it was a little different product. Today she was selling Mason Riley. To the Vice President of the United States. Well, to one of his advisors anyway. Still, this was the chance to help them understand the best way to get what everyone wanted and needed.

  “Dr. Davis, Ms. Scott? Mr. Gavin will see you now.”

  “It should be the White House’s priority, from a PR perspective at least, to keep the best interests of the people of Haiti in mind,” Adrianne said twenty minutes later. “And I can assure you, Dr. Mason Riley is the Haitian people’s best interest.”

  Daniel Gavin made a final note and then met her eyes. “I’m meeting with the vice president later this afternoon. But I do want to say that I believe it’s in everyone’s best interest to have you remain in charge of Dr. Riley’s PR, Ms. Scott.”

  He rose, shook their hands and escorted her and Lauren to the front office. “I’ll be in touch, Dr. Davis. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Scott.”

  They were in a cab before either woman spoke.

  Lauren let out a long breath. “You were amazing.”

  Adrianne finally let her smile go. “That went very well.” She slipped her shoes off and leaned her head against the back of the seat. “I think they’ll give Mason everything he wants. And they won’t expect PR from him.” She sighed happily. She was great at reading body language and other nonverbal cues. She’d impressed Daniel Gavin today.

  Lauren laughed. “He won’t need to do anything more than show up and point to what he wants after that meeting, Adrianne.”

  She rolled her head to look at Lauren. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Lauren shifted in her seat to face Adrianne fully. “So let’s talk business here with you. What can I do to keep you around? Our company could use you doing PR. Not marketing—we don’t have to sell ourselves to customers. But public relations could help us. Not just with government and agencies, but there are people in the public who don’t understand what we do. They worry about us mutating seeds, messing with the natural order of things, messing with the environment. We could use a front person, a face, who’s not a scientist but who gets it, believes in it and can explain it in lay terms.”

  Adrianne stared at Lauren, aware of her heart thumping crazily—but not in a bad way.

  She’d be perfect for that job.

  Lauren’s cell rang before Adrianne said anything.

  “This is Dr. Davis.” She paused and then glanced at Adrianne. “Okay, that’s not a problem.” She disconnected and leaned toward the driver. “We need to go back.”

  “Back?” Adrianne said. “To see Mr. Gavin?”

  “No,” Lauren answered. “To the West Wing.”

  VICE PRESIDENT FORRESTER was shorter than Adrianne expected. That was all she had time to register before they were ushered into seats around a conference table and the vice president pinned her with a direct stare.

  “Dr. Riley makes me nervous,” he said.

  Adrianne nodded. “From a PR perspective, I can understand that. But from the perspective of what you need him to do, there’s absolutely nothing to be worried about. There’s no one better to lead this project, I can assure you.”

  He looked at Lauren, who simply smiled, and then back to Adrianne. “I understand his expertise is the science, the hands-on work, but it’s important that this project be presented to the media and the public a certain way. My advisors insist that the American public would find this story encouraging and interesting.”

  “And I understand the White House wanting to be connected to something encouraging and interesting,” Adrianne said. “As a member of the American public, I can guarantee you that’s true. Not only is it something hopeful happening in a part of the world we’re used to seeing beaten down and devastated, but it’s something everyone can understand. Planting crops, the heartland of our country going to the heart of theirs. Beautiful.” She took a breath and leaned her arms onto the table, meeting the vice president’s eyes. “The White House needs to think big here, sir. You could develop a program that could go into grade schools and talk about the science behind this project. The water and soil conservation focus will inspire conservation here. The human interest stories alone will be—”

  “I told you she was good.” Daniel Gavin pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning. The vice president was looking at her with grudging admiration.

  “Dr. Davis,” he said, rising from his chair. “We’ll want a preliminary team to go in two days. This has already been pushed back enough that we need to do some fast PR.”

  “I don’t think there’s any way—” Lauren began.

  Adrianne cut her off. “That’s a good idea. It will take a few weeks to get everything in place, but sending you and Mason over with a few reporters will kick things off, satisfy the media and the White House and then leave things quieter for the full team’s arrival in a few weeks.”

  Vice President Forrester nodded. “Fine. We’ll do our part.” He started for the door but turned back after a few steps. “As long as she keeps Dr. Riley on a short leash in front of the reporters.” He headed for the door that Daniel Gavin held open for him but he paused at the threshold. “Dr. Riley’s lucky,” he said to Adrianne.

  She took a deep breath and a chance. “Mr. Vice President?”

  He turned back. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Riley is a brilliant scientist and a wonderful person with a huge heart and a hell of a lot of
passion for what he does. He’s not lucky. You are.”

  Michael Forrester looked at her for several seconds. Then he gave her a nod. “Agreed. But I was referring to him being lucky to have you.”

  The door swung shut behind him as Adrianne stared at the dark wood. Slowly, she smiled.

  “See, even the VP knows you love him,” Lauren said.

  Adrianne’s smile grew. “Evidently.”

  “How’s your heart doing?”

  “Never better.”

  MASON FROWNED AT the back of Ryan McDonald’s head as the White House Press Secretary was running down what was going to happen at the press conference in ten minutes. The man took fourteen paragraphs to explain the simplest thing.

  They were standing on the tarmac outside the hanger where the private plane was housed that would take them to Haiti the next morning.

  The Secretary of State and Secretary of Agriculture would each make a statement—something along the lines of how great this project was to bring two countries together and challenge the United States to use their vast resources to blah, blah, blah. Mason and Lauren were available for questions for fifteen minutes. Then they would be getting their team ready for the trip. Which is what they should be doing. That was the important part.

  He was only here because of the fucking PR consultant.

  He didn’t need a fucking PR consultant. He didn’t need anyone telling him that insulting the vice president of the United States was a bad idea. But Lauren had hired someone to do it anyway. And thanks to that person, he was now getting ready to speak at a press conference.

  Wonderful.

  And he was paying this person. Quite well according to Lauren.

  Even better.

  Mason rolled his head and shoulders, listening to the pops and cracks. He was tense. He knew it. He didn’t need a health consultant to tell him that—or that it was lack of sleep, lack of exercise, lack of giving a fuck about anything that was doing it to him.

  Instead of tense, he should be excited. He should want this trip to Haiti. He’d wanted it for months, years really. He’d been working for it for a long damned time.